No.

My husband had a fantastic outburst of his addict today, and it seems the root of the evil was that I wouldn't buy him a soda because I wasn't sure if I had enough money in my account. I'm down to pennies until I get paid, and that makes my husband MAD.

It made him so mad that he realized he's only been going to these AA meetings to make me happy. It's just something he's doing to please me because he loves me, and also because I'm controlling. And it's good for him, but he's only doing it for me. And he never agreed to get a sponsor. And he's been wasting his time. He should be going to church or looking for a job instead of attending all these meetings I make him go to, even though he understands I make him go because I love him and it's good for him. It doesn't matter anyway, though, because God has cured him of addiction, and the AA people don't understand that God can cure you of anything if He wants to, and God has taken away his desire to use drugs. And he could quit methadone if he wanted to, but he won't because he told me that he wouldn't, so it's just another way I'm keeping him from achieving his full potential. I'm holding him back spiritually.

He said all these things REALLY LOUD.

I pointed out that there was still some time left in his busy day of doing nothing, and that I'd be glad to give him a ride to church if he wanted to go. He'd gotten some phone numbers about his church's addiction treatment program the last time he attended, and he'd never called them back. I also suggested that he might have some time to look for a job in the 23 hours each day when he's not in a meeting.

It was VERY bitchy of me to have noticed that there are 23 other hours in the days that he goes to meetings, which isn't even every day. He doesn't understand how I can go to my meetings and buy into the "program" language about how addiction is a disease and have so little compassion for him. He's sick, he has a disease, and he can't be expected to go to meetings and attend church and get a job all at the same time.

It was at this point in his rant that things became clearer for me. He'd just told me he was cured of his addiction, but now, he was back to being very, very sick in his addiction, and somehow, all of it was my fault for not understanding. I realized that I was trying to understand and empathize with his desire to wear a tinfoil hat, and that I needed to stop and back out of the situation. I left and went to yoga.

The worst part, though, is that he failed to use any of the tools he's been acquiring in all these meetings. He didn't call his sponsor. He didn't pray. He didn't call a program friend. He called his mom, and he's spending the night with his parents. While I am glad to have him out of the house for the evening, I am sad that he made a choice that will likely result in him using. Maybe it won't, but based on his behavior today, it seems way, way likely.

I wasn't happy being separated from him, but I was doing it, and I was getting more and more comfortable as time passed. I'm so sad that he's coming unglued now, and I wish that it wouldn't happen. I got a lot of hope out of the month that he put together of really, really working on himself, and I don't want to move backwards.

We have a marriage counseling appointment tomorrow, and I hope he shows up. If he does, we'll certainly have a lot to talk about. I need to get clear for myself on what I need, what is my baseline. I can't live like that anymore.

I Can't.

"I can't do it. I'm not doing this," he said. I'd just gotten home from work, and I was boiling water to make a box of macaroni and cheese. It was 10:30 at night.

You might think he was talking about detoxing from methadone cold turkey, but you'd be wrong. I'm going to steal a play from MPJ's book and send you to read the rest at The Second Road.

His Present Obsession.

My husband's most recent obsession is with a weight bench. I'm pleased with him obsessing and compulsing over things that aren't heroin, and working out is certainly a good alternative. We had a falling out this morning, however, about his desperate, life-or-death need for weights.

He's found a weight bench on the side of the road, and he dragged it home. Next, he finagled his sister into purchasing a bar to accompany his bench. The only thing he needs to complete his set is the actual weight, so he's done a pretty good job of scavenging it together.

He called me today and told me that he was going to get his aunt to take him to buy weights for the bar today, but he needed me to tell his aunt that it's ok. He thought he'd found a remarkable shortcut to avoiding paying bills. His aunt deposits the money that she owes him directly into my account because she doesn't like handing him cash, and I've told him that I won't take any money out of my account for "toys" for him until he has deposited enough money to pay his bills for the week. His loophole was to ask his aunt to take him directly to the store and purchase the item for him, and he seemed dreadfully confused at first why I would say that his idea wasn't good. Then, he became angry when I refused to tell his aunt that it was ok with me for her to spend money that he should be giving me to pay bills on weights. And then he yelled a lot.

I've been at work all day, so I didn't think much about it. Now, I'm between my day job and my night job, and I'm furious. I thought it might do me some good to write about it, to kind of quell the rising obsession. I don't want to go home to an unpleasant husband, so I'm starting to dread the time of night when I head that way.

I hate that feeling.