Every day, I wonder what I'm going to find when I get home. I wonder what kind of mess there will be, whether my husband will be where he is supposed to be, whether he is working, whether he is lying, whether he is using, whether he is high, whether I will ever see him again.Part of me seems to be getting so strong, and part of me is just crumbling. Sometimes, I feel like I've reigned in all of myself, withdrawn into myself and away from him. Other times, I feel still so vulnerable, so exposed to the damage he can do, and that he will do if he keeps using. He doesn't leave me out of it.
It hurts me that he's so careless with me, with my safety and my sanity. I think that's what hurts the most.
And it bothers me that I must have such low self esteem. Some part of me must believe that I deserve the chaos, the insecurity, and to be someone's doormat.
There's a meeting tonight. It's a speaker meeting, and I haven't been to one of those yet. I kind of wish it weren't a speaker meeting because I really feel like I need to bitch, a lot. But maybe it will be good. I enjoy speaking at meetings--it feels somewhat cathartic--but I think I get the most out of hearing others tell their stories. I'm sure I'll get something out of it.
I'm exhausted.
1 comment:
Before I was mother to a 26 year old addict, I was wife to a husband who was an addict. I'm convinced they are connected - the nature/nurture thing. I got the kids away from their birth father at young ages (daughter 7, son 2). And yet son has so many of the same characteristics that he could't have inherited by imitation, having not seen his birth father since he was 4.
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