-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
title
Told my husband he has to choose, either booze or me.
Black or white. It's an either / or situation.
And he doesn't like that.
Just the fact that he has to think about it is a sign that it's just hopelessly over.
Now he's sulking around like a baby that lost it's security blanket. Off to the woods to throw a fit.
I refuse to be caregiver to a drunk.
I will tolerate mental illness, no matter how totally severe it is. Schizophrenia. Disassociative Identity Fugue Disorder. PTSD. Mood disorder. Seizure Disorder.
OK. These things are not his fault.
I even put up with addiction. On many levels.
I didn't expect to have to be taking care of someone so totally fucked in the head, but that's life. I never expected to be this fucked in the head, either, but I try every day to keep it together.
But, adding alcohol to this just makes everything worse. And he refuses to admit that, still. I am sick of him defending his DOC like it's a woman whose honor has been threatened.
He thinks he can handle his booze, but he can't. He says he's angry because I am forcing him to quit because I have a problem. He has just a big of an addiction problem as I do. More so. And what if I am? What is wrong with helping your supposed loved one through a very dark time?
I kept my mouth shut when he would come home falling down drunk, acting like an idiot. I tried to say, well, it's his body and his life. Bottle up my true emotions in order to keep the peace.
I am a very nice person, no matter what this asshole might say about me. I don't know anyone who would put up with his shit for as long as I have.
And maybe I shouldn't have.
I am willing to keep trying. For now. Give someone a second chance, but not a third? How about give someone two hundred chances, and get fucked over.
That's more accurate.
I don't think I am being unreasonable. Not drinking is the hardest thing I've ever done. I do not need anyone in my life who is just going to make that harder.
Just the fact that he will not allow himself to see how much harder he is making it for me by continuing to drink shows me that he cares about me only as much as his own addictions are not involved.
I fucking nursed him off meth, and what the fuck do I get for it?
Sorrow. That's all I ever get.
I should have let that motherfucker die instead of dragging his overdosed ass down the stairs and resuscitating him.
Live and learn, I guess.
He says I am always angry and it makes him not want to be around me.
Yeah, I'm fucking angry. If he can't see why, he needs more help than I do.
I'm too angry to continue.
3:26 PM - Monday, Aug. 27, 2018
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------