Hitting the very bottom

I'm sharing this because I know there are many spouses of addicts struggling to keep their families, their marriages and themselves together. I'm no expert, but I have been through some bumps, some with failure and some with success, and have reaped a few lessons along the way. If for no one else than this is for my own therapy and reflection. Throughout my marriage, sometimes I've been able to catch my husband in his addiction, either by finding paraphernalia or catching him in a lie, but unless I had that hard evidence, what was I to do when I felt like something was wrong but couldn't "prove it" and could easily be talked out of my suspicions by my addict husband. At one point, I finally had decided I needed to get out of the awful situation I was in. No one around me understood the thick mess I was in. I didn't have any hard evidence and my husband was so sneaky and had everyone convinced that he was such a great guy and I was the crazy one. So the only thing I could think of to do was fake like I was suicidal and get checked into a psych unit so I could have some time to get away from the sick situation I was in and think with a clear head. After being in there for several days I realized I needed to leave my husband. Regardless of whether or not I could convince anyone else and regardless of whether I understood it or not, my gut feeling told me that something was very wrong. The day before I was to get out, I learned that my husband needed to have his 2nd open heart surgery in the next week. How could I leave him when he was going to have open heart surgery? I'd finally gotten the courage to leave and now this! What a blow! I went home and demanded that we make an appointment with the bishop. I felt like I'd gained enough confidence to explain to the bishop my impressions of what was wrong and that we'd get the help me needed. So we went. The bishop totally sided with my husband! Now I really felt crazy. NO ONE would listen to me. I felt like  was in a sound proof box everywhere I turned. It was real bad and it was my lowest point. That night I tried coping. I'd lost my faith, I'd never felt so alone. I went to an old coping habit and went and bought a pack of cigarettes and sat and smoked a few of them by the fireplace downstairs. I felt worse but not frantic, I just felt hopeless, absolutely hopeless. So then calmly as can be I went upstairs and swallowed a whole bottle of Depakote and just as calmly went downstairs to smoke some more and wait until I fell asleep. And I did, I fell asleep. I shouldn't have woken back up. But then a voice, not in my head and clear as can be said "Melinda, if you want to live you need to go upstairs RIGHT NOW and tell Mandon what you did." I couldn't find it in myself to walk so I crawled upstairs and knocked on our locked bedroom door and told Mandon what I had done. That is the last thing I remember. I woke up the next morning in the hospital and with Mandon gone. His family had convinced him that he needed to focus on his heart surgery the next day and not worry about me who was just crazy. Several members of my family just looked at me like I was a freak. No one knew what was really wrong and no one knew what to say. After getting out of the hospital, my dearest friends came and stayed with me that day. They were trying to convince me to forget about Mandon and let him go, but I couldn't. I knew I couldn't. I didn't know how or what we were going to have trudge through but I knew I needed to. That was my lowest point and after that day, I knew I was NEVER going to let  myself get there again. Mandon had his surgery the next day, I stayed by him. And at the end of his hospital stay, I tried talking to him about what was wrong and he had me kicked out of his room by security and had his parents come and pick him up. I went home broken hearted and discouraged but still with my vigor. I knew I needed to cleave to my Savior like never before and he would show me how. So I learned through this that even when I felt discouraged and alone and completely misunderstood by everyone I knew, that my Savior loves me and has a special plan just for me. He picked me up that night off the basement floor and opened my eyes to a higher calling. I now know that he had prepared me both in this life and before this life to do something important. That was one of many times that my life had been spared. But one of the most awakening for me. He also taught me that without a doubt I needed to trust my intuition, that my intuition was a gift. I wouldn't always have hard evidence and I wouldn't always have an honest husband and I wouldn't always have people that believed me, but that he would make sure I would always know as much as I needed to know. I learned through this experience the 2 most important lessons of my life. 1-To always trust my Savior. He knows me and understands me and loves me in a way that no one on this Earth ever could and 2-To always trust my intuition. It is a divine gift to help bring about his purpose and to help bring his sheep home.