Rollerfuckingcoaster...
I got home from work last night, and the house was spotless. My husband had cleaned the house, cooked a wonderful dinner, and had $80 deposited into my bank account. It was like a fog had lifted off of him, the fog that had been keeping me from coming home over the last few weeks.
I'm confused about this up and down behavior, as it's not typical of him. If he's using, usually, it gets bad, and then it gets worse, and then it's a crisis, and then he's in bed detoxing for 2 weeks, and then he's really sorry, and then it gradually builds up to a better place. This new kind of rapid spiraling and upswing is different.
One thing that I thought might explain what's happening at my house is that he is gradually lowering his methadone dose. Every time he goes down a notch, he's shitty for a few days, and then he levels out. He's not gone down for a week or so, and maybe...just maybe...that's all that is going on.
Yuck. I'm not going to think about what's going on. All I know is that I'm looking forward to going home this evening to an orderly house with no allegorical turds, a loving, lovely husband (who even asked if I'd pick him up for the meeting tonight), and hope. Hope is nice, and the prospect of a nice evening is nice, and spending time with my husband while he's on an upswing is my favorite thing in the world.
