I think it is time for a change. Not sure where this blog will go, but I would like to bring it back from the dead. I’ve been away from writing for too long….


1, 2, 3, It’s not about me…

I’ve started listening to AA talks online. I thought maybe if I could understand alcoholism, maybe I could gain some compassion. Maybe I could hang on to hope. What I am experiencing though is a loss of hope. The more stories I listen to, the more I believe that there is no hope. V isn’t working a program. He feigns a program. I’ve gotten really good at knowing when he’s drunk. I don’t ask anymore. I am trying to practice my own program to the best of my ability right now. I hardly speak at home. It’s all I can do to avoid asking if he drank, did he go to a meeting, did he call his sponsor. I also know that asking will only start a fight and I can’t believe a word he says anymore anyway.

I’m so incredibly lonely in my own home. I feel like I live with a stranger. Thank god I don’t live with violence. Although, truthfully, I think if I continued to badger him with questions, that’s what it would come to.

I keep reminding myself, he didn’t ask for your opinion or your help, just shut up.

I keep practicing steps 1, 2, 3, and 11. I can’t, He can, I think I’ll let him. I started a mantra 1, 2, 3, it’s not about me to remind myself that his actions have nothing to do with me. It’s hard not to take things personally.

I think about hurting myself a lot. More than any one knows. I think about suicide and leaving him a letter saying how it’s his fault. If only he would have gotten sober…

And they say the alcoholics are the sick ones…

What an ugly disease indeed…

I’m slowly learning to separate you from I. We are not one being. I used to think you were a reflection of me. After all, I chose you as a partner. So wouldn’t it be the case that your actions are a reflection of my choice? 

The simple answer is no. 

You have a right to act however you so choose, as foolishly or as gentlemanly as you like. 

Sure, there will be people who shake their heads and whisper, but that is a reflection of their shallowness. A shallowness I am learning to let go of. 

Your drinking is a reflection of you, not me. I am learning to let you go. Not that I ever truly had you to begin with. I am learning how to focus on my own life, to put me first.

I deserve to be treated well, and that has to come from me first. 

One day at a time, I am actively, painfully, gritting-my-teeth-through choosing not to participate in the craziness.

It’s been a lesson three years in the making.

And al-anon has been there all along.

Dear God,

Where are you… I can’t find you. I feel so alone here. I feel so angry. I feel like my life is spinning out of control and I am sick. I have knots upon knots of wondering what the day will bring. I thought you were supposed to be here. I thought you were supposed to make things okay. Nothing feels okay. What I want to be okay, isn’t. I can’t fix it. I am so tired of being hurt.

Why won’t you fix it? Why can’t I have a relationship full of trust. I feel so alone.

Nothing Rational

There is no rationalizing with an alcoholic. Last Friday, V got himself kicked out of rehab. He’s been staying with me, but I have three rules.

  1. Don’t drink
  2. Don’t lie
  3. Don’t pawn

He pawned something today. The same b.s. behavior I’ve been dealing with for 3 years. I told him when I set the rules that he would need to leave if he broke my rules. I begged him not to put me in this position, and yet….

I was beyond upset. We argued. His argument made no sense. He called me a fucking bitch because he claimed he pawned the microphone for me…

He said he did it because he needed to contribute. I’ve never asked for anything. All I wanted was those three things.

He said a lot of other things that seemed like a huge deflection to owning his behavior. It was hurtful.

It seemed pretty obvious that he holds a lot of resentments toward me.

He said his parents turned their back on him today. I don’t know if that’s true, but I don’t blame them. He has alienated himself from everyone with his poor choices.

He needs to grow up and today, all I saw was a very broken child throwing a tantrum.

He swears he is sober. I don’t believe him, but it really doesn’t matter.

I’m scared for his mental health and his life. He kept talking about suicide. Tomorrow I am terrified of what I will come home to. He said he is going to talk to a sober-living housing unit. I’m scared he will be  gone by the time I get home.

I think if he leaves, he will use and die.

He should have been in rehab… I keep kicking myself because all of this goes back to one incident. If I had just kept my mouth shut, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe he would still be somewhere safe. Maybe I would have kept my sanity just a little while longer.

Regardless, here we are.