Monday, February 2, 2009


My husband and I have finally gotten over the stupid hump from last week, which is a good thing. Having the same fight again and again makes me really, really tired and bored.

I am stewing over new things, though. There is an interminable project that he hasn't finished yet that he's been working on for six months. He'll get a decent amount of money when he finishes it. The last two days have been beautiful, and he's not gone to work on the project.

I'm trying to let it go and detach from the outcome. If he doesn't want to work, he won't have methadone money. The problem, though, is that he's choosing not to work at a time when we could really use the money for bills. I don't have any freelance work right now, and I don't know how I'm going to make it. He just yelled down at me from the bed, where he's napping, that it's going to rain this afternoon, so he can't work. I know, though, that all he has left to do on this project is to paint the interior part of a screened porch, and he's said several times that he could paint it even on a rainy day.

I hate these situations where it's mine, but it's not mine. I want to detach and let him deal with his consequences, but the consequences aren't just his.

I'm also impatient with myself. He's doing well with recovery, and being a grown-up financially is one of the last areas recovery touches (or so I hear). It's all new, and I can't expect him to fix all his character defects in a few months. I'm just so very tired of carrying all this weight by myself, and I can't seem to get heard about how dire the financial situation is. He seems to be expecting me to take care of it, like I always do, and honestly, I think I'm out of options. I've stretched everything as far as it can go, and now there isn't much left. I don't know what's going to happen, and I'm afraid.

I also know that at some point, my self-esteem is going to improve to a degree that I won't be willing to support a grown man who is capable of supporting himself anymore. It makes me unhappy with myself to keep taking care of him. I don't enjoy it, and it makes me lose respect for him. He can find another way, and he won't. He insists that he's looking for a job, but at the same time, he's not looked at all in a few months. He's open to the idea of a job, if one were to come to our house and get him, but he's not actively pursuing it.

I don't want to feel like I'm in this thing alone, and if I am in it alone, then I'd rather not carry dead weight. It's not a deal breaker today, but it's not going to be long before it will be. It makes me sad to see what's on the horizon and to know it's so preventable.