Yeah, yeah I know I’m stealing Sonny and Cher’s words, maybe I should say, meanwhile back at the Dude Ranch, but that is stealing from someone else, uh, can’t say I know who.
I have me orders to write even if it is a little tiny paragraph. Loving thanks to you who encourage me and don’t let me give up. You all know who you are……….
My last writing was more in the form of an “outburst” as one friend put it. So true. Let’s see I was threatening to throw my S.O.B. husband over the bridge as I remember and maybe follow him. But I have not. Might be easier if I did, but I have not. Not only have I not done so, but won’t. Hell I won’t even go so far as to throw him out.
I have accepted over the years, that I made my choice in staying with him and we are growing old together. Sometimes together, sometimes not so “together”. Things are shaky these days.
I find myself the “sole bread-winner” in the household, while his union fights for his job. I am not sure that he deserves it back. But by golly, he gave it the best shot any drug addict ever did. He poured his heart and soul in that damned job while pouring drugs down his throat, and up his nose with straws and little glass pipes. He stole from his job, pawned their equipment, and cleaned up their crap doing a fine job of it along the way. Yes, he was a great worker, excellent in his field. In his mind that probably overshadows any wrong doing.
He has detoxed by himself, on his own and is over the illness part of it. But it is not over. Yesterday he felt sorry for himself, said he could “bite a nail”. He felt sorry for the loss of chance with his son and his grandson. I really don’t know what he expected. What should one expect? I am not sure where the idea of no consequences was born to him, if it is just him or all addicts.
I do know that right now, the goofy, fairly easy to get along with addict has been replaced with the biggest meanest asshole I have ever met in my life. For some reason I find that harder to take.
I realize for the hundredth time that I have had this delusion that if the drugs were gone, everything will be okay. The drugs will be replaced with possibly alcohol, or mood changes or meanness or something else that I can’t live with either.
I say to myself in complete and utter anguish, “It is never over”………………..