When is the Right Time to Leave an Addict? (Part Two)

When is the Right Time to Leave an Addict? (Part Two)

Last week, we talked about making the decision to leave or kick out a loved one struggling with addiction. One of the hard, cold realities of addiction is that doing so is sometimes necessary not only for our own survival but for their overall well-being.  

Allowing someone to hurt in order to help them doesn't seem like a very Godly thing to do. It hurts us to see our loved ones hurting (most of the time, that is! Somedays, it's more like, "Ah! That's it! You're getting what you deserve- maybe it'll make you change!").

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My First Panic Attack and the Day My Husband Left

My First Panic Attack and the Day My Husband Left

Everything was getting blurry. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

My chest was so heavy. it felt like someone was crushing my chest. It was as if the hand of the enemy was pushing me down. 

I remembered once I had read that if you put your arms up over your head it will help you breath better. I put my arms up as high as I could and went down on my knees. No, it wasn’t helping. I stood up, arms reaching high, maybe I was supposed to be standing? No, that didn’t work either. I sat down, maybe I was supposed to be sitting? It seemed to be getting worse. 

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He's Just Not That Into You[r Marriage]

He's Just Not That Into You[r Marriage]

“So I read this thing the other day…”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. It was about marriage and it sounded like ours.”

“Mm-hmm.” (eye roll)

“Don’t roll your eyes. It said there are men who avoid intimacy. Intimate conversations, intimate moments, everything to do with intimacy.”

“What? I don’t avoid intimacy, you sexy thing.”

“Sex is a surface thing, that doesn’t count.”

“Hm. Well, I think so. Yes, it’s a surface thing, I guess…” (not listening)

“Gah. Never mind.”

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The Day the Lord Set Me Free from My Marriage

The Day the Lord Set Me Free from My Marriage

Some might think that title is scandalous.  I know that my own fear of divorce kept me from escaping a narcissistic abuser for fourteen years.  Now, seventeen years out from that disaster, my regrets center around not leaving far earlier.  I lived in a lot of denial for years.  One has to cultivate denial in order to survive, much less stay, in a marriage that was as abusive as mine.  And just how abusive it was, did not fully dawn on me until I disclosed, ten years later, details of the torment to my counselor.  The look of horror and grief on her face showed me just how far from normal my first marriage had strayed.

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