Today my husband and I sat side by side holding hands at our son's basketball game. I looked at him and asked him if he knew that today was an anniversary for us. He was caught off guard, and his eyes said what his mind was thinking. Oh crap. What did I forget? He thought for a moment and said he could not remember what the anniversary was. He knew that we had started dating during football season, that we got engaged during Christmas, and that we got married on St. Patrick's Day (I love his strategy for remembering the important dates.) I urged him to remember. When he could not, I told him that the event must have had more of an impact on me than it did on him. He finally said, "Just tell me what today is the anniversary of!" I replied, "A year ago today, you kicked me out of our home."

January 30th, 2015 found me, once again, sitting in a treatment facility, away from my family. Chad had dropped me and my suitcases at the door of this place on January 12th, in the pouring rain, with barely a good-bye. He had made mention of me needing to move out of our home when I was released, but I thought he was bluffing, as he often did. I went about the next couple of weeks thinking that things would go exactly as I planned for them to. I would complete a 37 day program, get myself put back together, then go home like nothing had ever happened.

A year ago today, however, I sat in a dark room and received the information (through my counselor) that Chad meant business about kicking me out. He stated that even if I did complete the program, I needed to find somewhere else to live, that he and the kids could no longer be put through this. Furthermore, he and the kids would not be visiting me this time around. I instantly felt afraid, lost, betrayed, angry, and crushed. I had never lived on my own a single day in my life, and I had always depended on Chad to take care of me. I remember looking at my counselor and saying, "I would rather die than leave my house and have to live on my own. I will kill myself before that happens." Probably not the right thing to say to a counselor as I then had to sign a No-Harm Agreement. Luckily, I ended up working through all of those feelings and things turned out more than okay, but that's a story for another day.

What went through my mind today, thinking back to one year ago, was how I did not understand at the time why Chad was doing this. To be honest, I absolutely hated him when I heard this news. That hatred dissipated into denial, while I secretly planned how I would manipulate him into changing his mind. So many things continually ran through my head. I wondered if he ever really loved me anyway. After all, I was pretty hard to love. I thought he was selfish, and I wanted to remind him of the vows he took with me before God. He had promised to love me through anything and to never leave me. Now, he was turning his back on me while I was at the lowest point of my life...the time when I needed him most. I really just wanted to chase him down and throat-punch him (all in the name of Jesus, of course.)

Fast forward 365 days, and this is what I now believe. I believe that his decision to demand that I move out saved my life. I believe that it opened my eyes to how serious my addiction had become and how it was no longer affecting just me. My whole family was being forced to participate in my insanity. I believe that having very little contact with him during my second course of treatment forced me to fully rely on my Higher Power, God, and allow Him to do a complete work in me, while also allowing the people around me (staff, counselors, pastors, and other residents) to walk this journey with me and to support me. Consequences are absolutely no fun, especially when it requires doing the thing we are most fearful of. For me, that was being on my own...fending for myself.

To those who are still held captive by addiction, I want to remind you that sometimes the people who love us most are forced to temporarily turn their backs on us. What I have learned is that this does not mean they hate us because of what our addiction has done to us and to them; on the contrary, it means that they love us in spite of what our addiction has done to us and to them. They are willing to risk their relationship with us if it means saving our lives.

To those who love someone caught in the snares of addiction, thank you for doing what is hard, for doing what is almost unnatural, for holding us accountable and stepping back to let us learn for ourselves. Thank you for standing firm and telling us 'no', even though you have to quickly hang up the phone so you can run to the bathroom, shut the door, and cry. Thank you for refusing to allow this evil beast to further tear apart your family. Thank you for firmly taking a stand...to us, and to it. Because, even though we may feel like you have turned your backs on us, one thing is for sure...your hearts never moved.

One year ago today, you could not have paid me to believe I would ever be thankful for the news I had just received. But, I am. As strange as it may sound, being kicked out of my home was one of the best things that ever happened to me. So, excuse me for a moment, while I go chase my husband down. Not to throat punch him (at least not today!), but to give him a big kiss on the cheek and thank him for saving my life...for turning his back on me when I needed it the most.

To read about the day my husband took me to rehab, click here