Verbal Abuse Via Text. Another Crazy Exchange with Rob the Great Alcoholicc

Here is my latest column via Divorced Moms. Happy Labor Day weekend, my dear readers!

Lizzy

Alcoholism Hell. A Text "Conversation" With My Drunk Abusive Ex Hubby
By Lizzy Smith                   

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September 05, 2016

During my marriage to Rob the Great (Alcoholic), I was often left scratching my head on how we could be getting along one minute and the next – bam! – we would get in the biggest arguments one could imagine. Of course, looking back on my life married to a drunk, it was the alcoholic. Unstable, mean, makes no sense at all, world of alcoholism.

Flash forward to today, I am happily divorced from The Drunk and have rebuilt my life. I still struggle with my health (myeloma, a blood cancer) and try to be a good mom (even though I too often fail). But at least I’m away from the severe abuse that accompanies an addict.

And so after four years of not speaking, texting or emailing Rob, and his total abandonment of two daughters, he reappeared in February, texting and calling the girls on a regular basis. I was happy and relieved. I prayed often begging God that he would stick around this time. I was hopeful. He invited Mo (our 16 year old) out to San Diego to spend five days with him, he bought her a plane ticket. This was happening!

About a week before “Mo’s” scheduled departure, I got a text from Rob. My heart stopped. Because his communications would often send me into anxiety attacks. They could be so brutally mean and awful. And going back and reading this exchange, I had proof right in front of me that perfectly illustrates my point that Rob was and still is explosive and unpredictable. And a drunk (his many promises to quit drinking have not happened—he is as awful as ever). Words are powerful, especially in the written form, because you can come back to them. And here it goes snippets of our text exchange… (some edits were made to get rid of typos)

August 3, 11:02 AM from Rob to me (Rob is likely sober at this time of day)

Sorry to hear [you are sick]. I did not know [that]. Take care.

My note: Back when I was diagnosed with Stage III multiple myeloma, I told Rob about my diagnosis. He filed outrageous documents with Family Court saying that I wasn’t sick, that I needed to get back to work, and I was making this all up to get sympathy from people. I filed letters from my oncologist – letters that Rob received copies of letters from my oncologist that detailed my health status. Still, Rob denied I was sick, and told mutual friends and his family that I was just trying to get his money. It was disgusting.

From me to Rob
“I’ve been sick for 4.5 years! And I’m in Washington, DC often in a clinical trial at NIH. You know I’ve been sick.

From Rob to me
I didn’t mean to upset you. Last I read about it. You were in remission. That was years ago. I don’t go on social media and only know what I last saw. Now I know. I’m hopeful the trials go well and you recover. Take care.

My note: Maybe there is hope that Rob and I can get along. Maybe he has grown a soul. Cross fingers, crossing fingers. Pray.

It is now 4:19 PM when Rob reappears via text. By now, he has likely been at a bar for over an hour. He often leaves work really super early, takes his work phone and answers emails so his boss and coworkers think he’s still “working.” Instead, he is typically getting wasted. Seriously, some of his “best friends” are bartenders and cocktail waitresses. It’s so sad. Luckily, he works for a utility company and it’s nearly impossible to get fired. The most incompetent employees get promoted or shuttled off to another department so he becomes someone else’s problem.

4:19 PM text from Rob to me
Where is the new dad? (Referring to my husband of about a year)

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Bully me? Ok, TRY IT!

I haven't written in awhile because: 1) my kids are out of school for the summer and I didn't have time; 2) my myeloma relapsed and I've been in more doctor's offices than I can count and is it ever time consuming; 3) I was trying to make peace with my ex husband, Rob the Great (Alcoholic). But I am back! Mostly because Rob has given me so much fresh content and it's so unbelievable crazy that I have to share. Trust me, living among an alcoholic is one of the most AWFUL experiences one can imagine. And the things an alcoholic is capable of doing is stunning and limitless. So here's to writing again, sharing my story, and hopefully letting others out there know that they are not alone.


Open Letter To The Biggest Asshole on the Planet, My Ex Husband
By Lizzy Smith
                   

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August 28, 2016

Many women think their ex is Satan. And maybe he is. But my ex is a special evil kind of man. The lowest of the low. A liar. A bully. And a drunk.

When I got a cancer diagnosis, he literally spit in my face. He is so disgusting, there are truly no words.

When my ex (Rob the Great [Alcoholic]) and I split, he vanished from our two daughters' lives. I mean, he totally disappeared-- no birthday cards, phone calls or texts. He literally shattered their hearts. They didn't understand why. They blamed themselves. It was HORRIBLE. For four years, silence. He blamed it on my blog but this man vanished from their lives some 10 months before I wrote a single word about him.

And then, out of the blue, in February he started calling and texting the girls almost every day. We were all stunned. Why now? What was his motive? My oldest was very guarded in her communication with him, terrified he would just vanish again. Eventually, though, they started warming up to him. A few months later, he invited our oldest daughter, "Mo", to visit him for five days in San Diego and he offered to pay her flight and all their activities. It was a scary but an exciting invite so we said yes. I was truly supportive of their rebuilding their relationship.

About a week before Mo's departure, Rob started texting me with all kinds of bizarre demands, which I will detail later. All of these demands included "if you don't do xyz, I will cut the girls out of my life again." One "request" included my putting in writing that I would end my friendship with his ex wife, Tina (we are great friends), and his two daughters until HE decided I could have a relationship with them again.

Say what? What are we, ten years old? Hell no, I would NOT agree to that because The Drunk does NOT dictate my adult friendships. Another request required Mo helping perpetuate a Big Huge Myth of Rob's real living situation. Those details I will write about later, too. I told Mo that we don't lie or help others lie- ever - and she could say and do anything that was in her good judgement regardless of what Rob was demanding.

All this aside, I was as nice and accommodating with Rob as I could be. I thanked him. I told him how happy Mo was. I did not want to trigger a Rob explosion because, trust me, they are bizarre and frightening. I even fantasized that maybe Rob and I could maintain a decent relationship for the girls' sake. Maybe this was a whole new dynamic and we could do this. We could be adults, move forward. Rainbows and flowers. One could hope, right?

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Adults who throw epic temper-tantrums. It's a mental disorder. Can it be fixed?

Early this morning, I came across this article on CBS New York. I post it below in its entirety because I know that there are many of my readers who are suffering in abusive marriages that include the bizarre adult tempter-tantrum. You'd think this ends around the age of four or five when children better develop their language skills. Throwing themselves on the ground, screaming, putting holes in walls, or worse, are done. But they're too often not-- some adults continue this pattern at the horror of those privy to watch it. And there's nothing cute or funny about it. It is scary, volatile, and dangerous. Many women (and men) are paralyzed to leave their husband, or desperately wanting to but fear and other factors keep them staying. Some have left men like this but continue to be bullied, harassed and abused. And they can still find themselves victimized by the adult temper-tantrum.


My former marriage was as described. Four years later and remarried to a man who never yells or screams at me (or anyone else, for that matter), I nonetheless will experience flashbacks from my prior life. Sometimes I have nightmares. And when that happens, I feel those raw emotions of anger and sadness surface. I have a sign above my rearview mirror that reads: "This is God. I will be handling all your problems today." I read it many times per day and it reminds me that I am not capable of handling all the curveballs thrown my way without His help. I then turn things over to Him. "I can't deal with this today," I say. "You take this one." And I am able to feel peace, calm, and love.

Anyway, for my readers who contact me and share their pain and duress, this is for you. Maybe it will give you hope, empathy, and understanding, too. Now what to do with it is another story.

Much love,

Lizzy

Adults Throwing Temper Tantrums

NEW YORK (CBSNewYork) — People usually associate temper-tantrums with children, but adults are being caught now pitching a fit.

CBS2’s Dick Brennan reported that more and more adults are being caught on tape throwing temper-tantrums. They kick, scream, fall to the floor, and throw things — and it doesn’t take much to set them off.

Adults throwing tantrums are also being caught on video thanks to today’s technology. But could there be something more going on?

“Most of us are able to get angry, and express our frustration in a constructive way,” therapist Diane Kolodzinski said.

But for others, Kolodzinski said something as simple as spilled milk is literally enough to send them over the edge.

“They go zero to 100 really fast,” she said. These adults who throw these temper-tantrums could be suffering from a condition called intermittent explosive disorder.

“The people who have this disorder cause a lot of suffering,” Dr. Igor Galynker, a psychiatrist, said. “They themselves suffer, and they make a lot of other people suffer when these people are subject to aggression.”

Galynker said as many as one in 20 people now suffer from the disorder.

“A person who has intermittent explosive disorder feel they don’t have control,” Galynker explained.
Experts said what differentiates the disorder from a bad temper is the disproportionate response.

“Yelling, screaming, throwing things, hitting the wall,” Kolodzinski detailed. “They could hit the other person or push them.”

Cursing at someone who cuts you off while driving is pretty typical, but chasing the car down and ramming it could be the behavior of someone suffering from the disorder.

One man, who started a vlog about living with the disorder, said he was relieved to finally find out the root of his overreactions, and even more comforted to learn it’s treatable.

“When I got a grip on the illness, I started to work hard to do something about it,” he said.

Experts said treatment typically includes therapy and learning techniques to self-soothe.

“There is definitely hope out there and help out there, if you reach out,” Kolodzinski said.

Experts said those with the disorder may also experience a sense of relief after an episode, followed by remorse or embarrassment.

To view the complete article, click here.

Purging my old life, one piece of furniture at a time

Today's Divorced Mom's article.

It's Just Stuff-- And Getting Rid of It Feels... Ok
By Lizzy Smith                    

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March 05, 2016

When I walked out of my abusive marriage and moved from San Diego to Utah, I initially took very few items with me. After all, I had almost zero time to prepare for that move. I literally learned I had cancer and moved days later. Finally, my bad marriage was over-- I was out of there. I threw things the girls and I would need in trash bags and loaded up our Jeep Commander with as much as it could hold. Just the essentials-- my daughters, the cat, winter clothes and toothbrushes, basically.

My then-husband, Rob the Great (Alcoholic) threatened to throw everything I left behind in the street if I didn't get my ass back home within days. Who cares that I had chemo appointments, Rob the Great (Alcoholic) had different needs (like drinking all night long). A quick call from my attorney to his nixed his plan-- my items would stay in OUR home until I was good and ready to retrieve them (and had my oncologist's permission to travel).

Some six months later, when I felt a little better after my first stem cell transplant, my dad and I drove to San Diego. I knew that Rob was out of the country so there would be no drama with him. He tried to arrange a date for me to come out when it was convenient for him. But there was not a chance in Hell that in my fragile mental and emotional health that I was going to face my abuser. I could envision it all too well-- a drunk Rob screaming in my face and a call to the police to help. So I waited until he was gone, met up with professional movers, and meticulously had my things packed up. I placed many of my favorite items in our bedrooms in my parents' home-- beds, dressers, artwork, the Kitchen Aid mixer and linens. The rest went into a storage unit.

It's been four years and it's time to purge a whole lot of that furniture. We moved into our new home and we have no need for most of it. So I've started selling things, one at a time. I have to admit, it is really painful. I look at, say, a dresser that I sold yesterday. I originally purchased it to place in my step-daughter's bedroom. Nicky took it out of its original box and spent hours putting it together. After she moved out, the dresser went into the guest room, then my daughter, Morgan's bedroom, and when we moved, Siena inherited it. I loved that dresser-- pale yellow, kind of shabby chic, solid wood. I sold it to a woman who was getting a divorce and whose husband got their dresser. I nearly teared up as we loaded it into her van. "Enjoy it!" I called out to her. "And best of luck in your new life." She would need blessings and support in the months ahead. And for me? I parted with a tangible piece of my past, a memory that was actually a good one, filled with hope for our new family and decorating our new home.

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Why should you journal your relationship? Clarity, my friends

From Divorced Moms a few days ago as I try to catch up.

Finding Clarity: The Importance of Documenting Your Relationships
by Lizzy Smith                    

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March 03, 2016

Here's one of my biggest pieces of advice to those of you in difficult relationships: Write yourself letters. Keep a journal. Document it. You should never forget or confuse your painful reality.

There were times in my highly abusive marriage that I thought I would explode in anger, sadness and frustration. One day, I started writing myself emails as a reminder that I was living in Hell. I did not want to have another makeup session with my husband and "forget" how horrible things really were.

You see, life can be really confusing when you are living a life of volatility. There are good times and then - bam! - things turn horrible and ugly in an instant. And then there's a period of calm and peace until - bam! - again, another terrible episode. During those "good" times (I use this term loosely because when one is walking on eggshells, nothing is ever good-- you know that life will become ugly and frightening again, you're just not sure when), I needed something I could refer back to that reminded me of my true reality. Something I could read and remember, and could use to smack myself upside the head and say "Lizzy, your Hell is REAL. This whole 'he's being such a great guy right now' is a fallacy."

Sometimes instead of writing myself an email, I'd draw pictures. One night, my husband, Rob the Great (Alcoholic) came home drunk, screamed at me, and passed out. It was early, like 7 pm. I sat on the floor not far from our bed, watching him breathe and I loathed him. I took out a piece of paper and drew a picture of a volcano exploding. I wrote notes that said things like: Rob is happy (that was near the bottom of the volcano when the lava was nowhere near the top), and then the smoke coming out of the top (Rob is about ready to scream at me), then spewing volcano with a stick figure of me covering my head in fear. I filed it away so I could pull it out at any time and remind myself that somewhere in that picture of a volcano was Rob's behavior-- either calm or exploding. One thing that was a given-- Rob would cycle through my volcano picture: calm, seething, exploding. Repeat. Because of the uncertainty of when any of this would happen, life was truly scary for me Every.Single.Day. Dreadful, really.

My emails, writings, and diagrams have helped me. There are times even to this day when I will start remembering only our good times and wonder if maybe I overreacted. And then all I need to do is refer back to my trusty file and read and remember. No, Lizzy, you were right. Things were bad, very bad. As tempting as it can be to romanticize a former relationship, this can be extremely dangerous, especially if you are trying to escape, or are escaping, an abusive relationship. You must never, ever forget reality.

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Want to know what truy hitting rock bottom is? Here's one powerful story...

Tonight I'm up rather late and can't sleep. So I've decided to write and get caught up a bit. I wrote my latest Divorced Moms column (see below) and in a few hours, I'm going skydiving. Afterwards, William is cooking dinner for the whole family (it's my brother's birthday) while I pack up the girls and me. You see, on Monday morning, I am entering a five day hospital stay as part of a new clinical trial I've embarked on (details will come next week). I am having another auto stem cell transplant. This means four days of non-stop chemo in a bag, which my insurance company is requiring that I do as in-patient. So I am packing up delicious smelling shampoos, cute but comfy clothes (no reason I can't walk around the facility and, weather permitting) sitting outside in the lovely gardens and canyons, laptop, book and latest Vanity Fair. I can't remember how awful I feel during my 4-day chemo in a bag but if I need to sleep and rest a lot, I will. On Friday (my birthday, I get to go home to recover). If my numbers are where they need to be, I'll be doing the transplant a few weeks later. If not, I'll do another stink of chemo in a bag in-patient, followed by the transplant. The entire regiment will be done by Christmas, most of it I'll be home so lots of down time.

Last time I did this, I was far sicker, we had to harvest my stem cell transplants, and I had to do two back-to-back transplants, which is all far harder. Still (knock on wood), I came sailing through both. I did the big Amtrak trip across the country between the two, took up long walks and yoga, hung out with the kids at the pool. It was a touch, weak recovery, but I LIVED and I found time and energy to enjoy life. I hope the same is the case here.

So yesterday, we had a fun all-day Halloween fest. Nothing big or huge but it was fun to stay dressed up all day, do some shopping, get some lunch, and allow the girls to hook up with friends and trick or treat. They have today only the option of letting me buy their candy for $20 and I throw it all out. They've always taken me up on that offer-- pick a few pieces of their favorites then get cash. I hope they do this time, too, because, eeew, all that sugar.

So I am heading into transplant with a BIG HUGE BANG of jumping out of a plane. Let's see how resilient I feel coming out of the other side of this thing. Oh, and after my transplant, I will likely head to NIH in Washington, DC to get follow up Car-T cell therapy. It's free because it's run by NIH and there is a travel stipend to help with air and accommodations. Plus, this treatment is potentially curative and groundbreaking. Thing is, I have to get my markers down first, hence this dreaded transplant. Say prayers for me! And enjoy my latest blog post.

When An Addict Bottoms Out. A Powerful Journey Down Redemption Road
by Lizzy Smith for Divorced Moms                    

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November 01, 2015                

This is what hitting rock bottom might look like when you are married to an addict. Because an addict will never start the long, painful, lonely journey to health without hitting bottom first. When I thought I saw my now-ex hit rock bottom a few times during our marriage, when things got so unspeakably horrible between us, I thought, FINALLY, he'll start turning his life around! I was wrong, it was all a ruse, lack of will power, lies, you name it.

But sometimes, you hear stories from others and you think, “Now how does it get worse than this?” And when it really can’t, and there is nowhere left to go, the addict begins doing something different because life has truly become unsustainable for them and everyone else.

Such is the story of my friends “Wilma” and “Barney”, who I knew way back from our college days together. They were young and in love and I saw love and adoration in Wilma’s eyes every time she gazed at Barney. She acquiesced to everything he wanted and simply adored (even worshiped him). I knew they were destined for marriage and just days after they both graduated from college with degrees in hand, they had a big huge elaborate wedding and three adorable little boys, one after the next. They bought a house with a pool out in the Southern California suburbs. Wilma started a pretty successful homebased business while Barney found a solid job in Corporate America. They got a dog, Joe, a big huge golden retriever, and two cats, Fluffers and Buttercup, that sat on Joe’s back and gave him endless back massages. They were a sweet family and it was fun to go hang out over there. They were achieving the perfect American dream: frequent get-away cruises from the nearby terminals in Long Beach, family parties at their house, nice cars, cute boys, and a boat to go fishing in--quite the enviable life, right?

Wrong.

Barney started drinking with guys at work—they had a lot of privacy on the docks and many were also dabbling in drugs. To our knowledge, Barney didn’t do drugs but he loved his beer. Lots of it. And on his way home, the co-workers stopped for happy hours. And by the time Barney did make it home, he was stumbling, mumbling drunk. Wilma was sick with worry. He was going to get arrested. Worse yet, he was going to kill someone while drinking and barely able to get out of his car by the time he made it home. Wilma considered calling the police to report his drunk driving but she was frozen in fear. In California, it was a mandatory find, huge increase to get car insurance, and time spent in the slammer. He could get fired. They could get sued. She was numb, hopeless and beginning to feel that horrible emotion- contempt. And rage. And revulsion.

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The road to Hell: What it's like living with an addict

My children are out of school for five days for Fall Break. So far, it's been awesome. But it's also been super busy. So I'll write more about that, perhaps tomorrow. William has been out of town and I'm on my way to the airport to pick him up shortly. Happy weekend!

What It's Like Living With An Addict: The Road to Hell
by Lizzy Smith for Divorced Moms                    

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October 17, 2015

A close friend of mine, “Kate”, is on a trip to visit her sister, “Alice”, perhaps the last time she will see her alive. Though Alice is just 60-years old, she is an alcoholic and her liver is failing. She actually quit drinking a decade prior but the damage was done. Also permanently damaged was the relationship she had with her husband (after 15 years of hell, he left), children whom she has not seen in years, and siblings. Most of the family had to “cut her off” because they were tired of the endless excuses, theft, lies, and more.

As I’ve written numerous times, if you are married to an addict, or if you are dating one, you need to seriously consider what they hell you are doing to yourself and your children. Because you likely will never heal him but there is probably time to save yourself and children from the pain and trauma you will experience for decades and, likely, forever. I tell my story of life with an alcoholic frequently on this blog but what is the impact of addiction to the countless other families who struggle with these terrible affects every day? Here are some universal traits. If you've ever lived with an addict, I’ll bet you can see your own life in most of these.

-Secrets and lies: First, the addict lies to himself that he has a problem at all. IF he admits to it, he will go through periods where he will blame you for his addiction and other times when he will tell you he really isn’t sick at all, it’s all in your head. You will begin to doubt your own sanity. He will lie to you where he is at and where he has been, and what he is drinking. I remember too well Rob carrying around a soda until I would have a sip and realize that it was a lot of alcohol with a splash of root beer. He will deny and accuse. He will vanish for hours in the guise of “running errands,” which, in reality, means he is out feeding his cravings.

-Laziness: Expect an addict to not pull his own weight, or any weight, around the house (at least not consistently). After binging, it’s amazing how much rest, relaxation, retreats and vacations an addict needs. Most of the home’s chores will rest on your shoulders.

-You will stop recognizing yourself. Many partners of addicts become codependent or more isolated from people they love. They dread making plans (who knows if the addict will be emotionally well enough for anything), and the thought of unannounced visitors can be frightening. You will drown yourself in your partner's endless needs and drama.

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From Divorced Moms: The pleasure principle, hedonism and why, if you're with an addict, it's not getting better

I have learned so much about addiction, the personality disorders that cause them, the likelihood of improvement, and the devastating consequences it can have on the victims. I have become a HUGE advocate for those suffering life with an addict and often vocally encourage, BEG, people to GET OUT NOW. Here is my latest. Read and learn.

The Pleasure Principle, Hedonism & The Mind of an Addict
by Lizzy Smith for Divorced Moms                    

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October 14, 2015

I have learned quite a lot about addiction over the years and the pathology that leads to those who can become addicts. Addictions aren’t limited to drugs and alcohol-- it can be shopping, gambling, pornography, sex, food… But the mindset of the addict is remarkably similar. And being in a relationship with one is a never-ending hell for you, I promise. There are a few addicts who can get help and truly change their lives. It happens every day and each is a reason to celebrate. But for the rest of us who are living with an addict who is not in full recovery and commitment mode, it is not a fun place for anyone to be—not for you, your children, your family or friends. It is embarrassing, painful and humiliating.

In my own marriage, my husband was an alcoholic. It was a never-ending nightmare of promises to get well, resenting and blaming me for the periods he went dry, wanting a drink, having too many drinks—whatever the combination, alcohol drove everything he did.

At one point, he entered therapy at Kaiser and I, as his wife, was invited to many of those sessions. I liked Rob’s therapist and after one horrible fight between Rob and me, I couldn’t get to our appointment fast enough. Rob was drinking in full glory. To the surprise of no one, Rob didn’t show up. But on my way to the appointment, he called me screaming that he wasn’t even an alcoholic and that his therapist had told him so. He was only telling me this line of shit to try and gain my sympathy so I wouldn’t leave him.

So when I finally spoke with his counselor, it was the first thing I told her. “Rob may not be an alcoholic, but I can tell you that he has an alcohol problem and it is horrible.”

“Wait a minute, I never told Rob he wasn’t an alcoholic. Lizzy, he is most certainly an alcoholic,” she corrected me.

“But why would he lie about it?”

“Because addicts lie,” she said. “And Rob is no exception.”

Of course she was right. He lied about how much alcohol he consumed. He blamed missing wine bottles on his oldest daughter and her friends. He lied about where he was (not at work, really at a bar; not at an AA meeting, really at a bar…). Why was a surprised?

“We got in a really huge fight tonight and he wasn’t drinking, though,” I said. I was confused. “And he can go months without a drink.” Or could he? I would never know because I would never know how much he was actually drinking because he hid it and, you guessed it, lied about it.

“Just because Rob’s not drinking at that moment doesn’t make him a great guy all of a sudden. Alcohol drives everything he does, every decision he makes. Even when he isn’t drinking, he is a dry alcoholic. He wants to drink. For Rob to ever get well, it will take years of non-stop therapy. Besides, he emotionally stopped developing around 13. He has one coping skill—alcohol. If you take that one coping skill he has away from him, he has no coping skills. He has to rebuild it and he will become much less likable in the interim.”

Less likeable? Impossible, I thought. Oh my gosh, I thought next.

And then she introduced me to the “pleasure principle.” “You hear about someone who goes to prison for getting in a car drunk or on drugs and killing someone and then they serve their time and get out. And the next day, they are arrested for drinking and driving again. How is that possible? Because addicts have the pleasure principle going in full force. They will sacrifice anything to have pleasure at that moment. They’ll deal with consequences later but they want the pleasure right now.”

This principle has fascinated me since then. Freud actually introduced the concept as a person that seeks immediate gratification of their own needs right now. Nothing else matters but their pursuit of what they want. Children generally operate on this principle, which is to be expected. What is frightening is that adults should outgrow this and learn about delayed gratification. When an adult hasn’t learned this critical life skill, the consequences are devastating to them and all of those around them. This is when many become addicts—they want the instant pleasure of the drink, drug, sex, shopping high… You get it. The pleasure seeker needs primal gratification this second and if he doesn’t get it, there is an inappropriate outburst of anger, anxiety and tension. Consequences be damned. Boy oh boy did I see this—the wild bursts of screaming, pounding on tables, jumping up and down—classic childlike immature and impulsive behavior. I often wonder what trauma happened in Rob’s life when he was younger that prevented him from learning adult behavior, which is the concept of “delayed gratification.”

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Can someone with cancer date & find love again?

My latest via Divorced Moms. Happy weekend, dear readers.

Lizzy

Dating With Cancer. Can The Chronically Ill Find New Love?

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October 09, 2015

When I first started dating after fleeing an abusive alcoholic husband in the wake of getting diagnosed with cancer, I wanted to do things right. If I was ever going to attempt dating again, I wanted to make sure I never ended up with a guy similar to my ex.

...But wait a minute. I wasn't exactly at the top of my game. I was sick. I was bald, even though I had great wigs and I looked healthy. I was still in the midst of treatment. In fact, in one of the texts that my estranged husband, Rob the Great (Alcoholic) sent me, he reminded me of the fact. "I'm a great guy! I'll have no problem finding another girlfriend in no time. You just don't appreciate me. You, on the other hand, will never find anyone as fabulous as me. You're a single mom living in your basement surviving on disability." He always had a way with words.  

Was he right? Could I date? What kind of guy would I attract? What information did I owe him about my illness? 

The more I thought about it, I didn't really care if I found another husband. I knew I would much rather be single than end up with a guy like Rob. But I was very curious as to what the dating scene for someone like me would look like.

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Do our parental duties ever end? I say no, especially when abuse is concerned

My latest via Divorced Moms. This is a topic I think about often. Not to be a helicopter parent forever, but there are times when it is appropriate that we intervene in our children's lives, I don't care how old they are. My personal story of life with alcoholism continues.

Moms: If Your Adult Child Is A Screw-up, Do You Intervene?

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October 01, 2015

BY LIZZY SMITH for Divorced Moms

Recently I wrote an article about when we, as moms, ought to warn our adult child’s new love interest about potential warning flags that come from our own beloved children. When I asked my readers what they thought, the overwhelming response was that warning the new love was appropriate, especially if our adult child had an addiction, was prone to violence, had a mental illness, or other severe mental disorders or troubles. And if the new love had minor children, our duty to warn was even greater.

Which leads me to today’s question… When do we owe it to our adult child to try and step into their life to intervene? For example, is it our duty to, say, stage an intervention, cut them out of an inheritance, or perhaps withdraw emotional and financial support if he or she fails to try and get professional help? Or should we moms simply ignore their behavior, act as if all is well, and smile a lot? Hey, they’re an adult, our job is done (hooray!) and let them be everyone else’s problem.

When I was still married to Rob the Great (Alcoholic), I attended every survivor’s therapy support group I could find, included Alanon and one offered by Kaiser Permanente. One evening, I was sitting in a group and we took turns sharing our individual stories of life with an addict. I listened with horror as parents, partners, children and spouses talked about their personal hell. It included their addict stealing money, claiming they had money they never had, passing out drunk in the front yard, failing to show up for work, fits of rage, breaking items in the home, lies, infidelity, police, physical violence and emotional abuse. I almost fell out of my chair a few times, the stories were so awful and extreme. And then some hit so close to home, I could swear they were talking about me.

Like this…

“No one believes me when I tell them my husband is an alcoholic. He is so nice to everyone,” said one woman.

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Should the hubby's family warned me about his addiction? My readers say YES.

Moms: When Should You Warn Your Adult Child's New Love Interest?

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BY LIZZY SMITH for Divorced Moms

September 28, 2015

I have written many times about life with my alcoholic husband. I made a huge mistake marrying Rob the Great (Alcoholic). I was naïve about addiction and failed to see the signs that Rob was an alcoholic. I also made a huge mistake dating a guy when I was on a major rebound with my ex-boyfriend, "the one who got away", Tom. I should never have re-entered the dating pool at that point in my life, but I did. And, lastly, I should never have allowed Rob to set the speed of our dating. Before I knew it, Rob had asked for a commitment and I gave it to him in order to keep me strong in not going back to Tom. Before I knew it, Rob and I purchased a home together and, since the damage was done, I went ahead and married him. After a total of six months. That is right-- who gets remarried after just six months? That would be Stupid Dumb Idiotic Me.

So, it is my fault that I married Rob. But what obligation did Rob's family owe me with a warning that he was an alcoholic? They all knew it. It had ended his first marriage and that was well known, too.

As parents, when our adult children have major character flaws, should we keep our mouths shut and let the adults work it out among themselves? Or are we morally obligated to speak up and save everyone more heartache?

Since I have my own opinion and experience, I decided to ask divorced women readers in a private forum. It is a most unscientific poll but it was 10 to 1 SPEAK UP. When there are minor children, it was more like 20 to 1 to speak up if there are major issues, like abuse, addiction or violence. I thought the comments were interesting and I think you will, too. I am posting them below with almost no editing, just for style and typos.

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