If I was an addict, I'd have help in under 24 hours!

I got married to Hubby 8 months ago after a 3 year relationship. We fell madly in love when we first met, and he basically moved in at that time. Six weeks ago, after all the clues I previously ignored, I found his crack paraphernalia and admitted that I was married to an addict. Yeah, he's also an alcoholic, and I knew that, and I still married him. Well short story, I did an intervention & he agreed to go to a 90 day program - and he left it yesterday after 28 days. Says he's going to stay with his brother since I told him I'm "not ready for him to come home."

I was unable to seek help for me for the first two weeks because I was so busy planning the intervention (organizing grown men is harder than getting chickens to walk in a straight line!)and because I was still in shock. But I had received two names of therapists from the interventionist, and I did set up appointments with both of them. I met the first one, a "licensed & certified social worker"(LCSW) one week after Hubby left. What a disaster! She was openly appalled that I had taken out a second mortgage to pay for his rehab "thirty thousand dollars is an awful lot of money to spend on someone else," told me to talk to a divorce lawyer because "when drugs are involved you can get a divorce in 30 days," and of course what bad therapy session would be complete without the inevitable "why do you think that is?" I at least had the presence of mind to tell her that I could get all this 'tsk,tsk' advice from my girlfriends without having to pay $95. Basically, I believe she pre-categorized me before she ever met me, and she certainly did not bother to ask me why I was seeking therapy. But I did not get to that realization until I woke up at 3AM that night sobbing uncontrollably. And I did not stop for four days.

The appointment with the other referral was a week and a half away, she was also not on my insurance and would cost $125. I began trying to wade through my insurance provider list to get something sooner. All this time I have been attending Alanon, and I began to realize that all the anger, sadness, distrust and love I was feeling towards my Hubby did not require a "family of the addicted" specialist. But the provider list might as well have been in German. I finally figured out that I should look under "Behavioral Health" but then I had to chose from categories that had no definition, and when I called member services, even they could not tell me what the difference in treatment was between a CRN, Master's Prepared Therapist, Social Worker, Psychology, or Psychiatry/Neurology. So I just started calling offices. One program, which is the largest in my area, said they were not accepting any new patients at this time. That knocked about one third of the providers off my list. The second largest in the area said they were in the process of moving their headquarters and that I should call out-of-state to see if any of their offices could take me sooner than three months. By this time I was calling individual providers and the answer was always the same - there is a wait list minimum of three months. It didn't matter if I called them crying, or if I had myself together enough to explain my situation rationally - I was going to have to tough it out alone until their schedule allowed for me.

Well, I've never been one to quit (even if I do have a hard time asking for help sometimes), so I decided to try getting help through my primary doctor. This was on my fourth straight day of sobbing while driving to work, at work, while driving home, while walking the dogs, while doing anything, and not sleeping or eating. So I called his office sobbing and believing I was having a nervous breakdown, and they had me in to see him the next day. He prescribed Lexapro & Xanax for me, and got me a psychiatrist appointment for two weeks out. The Lexapro helped a lot, but it was too strong for me & I hated the fuzzy feeling so I stopped taking it after a week. I foolishly cancelled the $125 therapist. And kept looking forward to my shrink appointment.

That appointment was this past Thursday, a mere six weeks since my ordeal began. When I saw the office I already had misgivings. In a lousy neighborhood with trash in front of the building. When I walked in I felt like I was in the NYC unemployment office (yes I have been there too). I had arrived at 3PM for a 3:30PM appointment figuring there was paperwork to fill out. As I waited until 5PM to see the shrink I repeatedly heard the receptionist tell everyone on the phone that they "typically run about an hour behind schedule." I started to feel sorry for myself (again) while sitting on hard back chairs in a cold waiting room with no reading materials and court-ordered patients coming in, and out, before me. But I was desperate for help, any kind of one-on-one help! After all I had been going it alone for six weeks, my husband had already been in rehab for almost a month, and I was still struggling to get a damn therapy session! I only had 90 days total with him gone to work on me, and the health system has wasted 30 of them.

Finally I get in and, of course, start sobbing again as we go over the basics. Much to my surprise, the shrink says, "I think therapy would be good for you. Would you like to do therapy?" I told her that I thought she was going to be therapy. "Oh no, I just oversee medications." I am very proud that I did not leap over the desk and throttle that woman. And when I explained that I needed to start therapy yesterday she didn't help, and my appointment is another two weeks out. And she actually was asking ME what sort of medication I'd like to be on and how many MILLIGRAMS I wanted!!!!!!!!!!! I am still debating reporting her. What if I'd been a drug seeker?

So here it is 29 days after Hubby left for rehab. He quit the program yesterday. Today I was determined to get help this week. I'll be damned (literally) if I'm going to patiently wait for the system to fit me in when I know Hubby will be knocking on my door this week! So today I called those same providers again and refused to take no for an answer. I got dramatic and I cried. And I have a therapy session TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I just pray it's not like the shrink visit that wasn't. But finally I'll be able to start working on me instead of just reacting to his life. And not a second too soon. At least while he was out of state I could control how much interaction I wanted to have with him. Now I want to prevent myself from being a victim of his needs. Wish me luck!