Ever since my marriage (and world) fell apart, and I essentially moved out of our apartment, going “home” causes quite an array of emotions. Some times when I go home I immediately feel as though I don’t belong there, like I am detached from that life, and am anxious to leave. Other times it hurts so intensely that all I can do is lay down in “our” bed and sob.
Today I went home for 5 minutes and the resulting emotions were sadness and disappointment. I walked in the room and instantly saw it, the plastic shopping bag full of empty cans sitting in the middle of my bed…He is drinking again, and if he is drinking again that means he is most likely getting high again too…
I don’t know what to say about that, I don’t know what to feel about it. I’m not going to lie, I am surprised he lasted this long (4 months)…but I am also so incredibly sad that he made the choice to start again. As much as I kept telling myself not to, I was holding out just a little bit of hope that losing me and his entire world falling apart would be enough to make him realize that he needs to fix himself.
I knew better, I knew better, I knew better.
And yet here I am, disappointed again. I can’t tell you how many times I have felt like this. I’m sick of it.
I’m sick of being hurt and disappointed. Sick of sitting around waiting for him to screw up again. Sick.
I guess it’s just more proof that I made the right decision; I told myself when I left that just because he was sober then did not mean he would stay that way, and lo and behold, I was right! I did sort of need an “oh yeah, THIS is why I left” reminder this week…I guess I got it…
I love him, and I genuinely want him to make himself better, for HIM. It doesn’t affect me anymore, his life is his own to screw up, but I just really don’t want him to screw it up.