I am nothing but passionate about this man.

I feel the need to express positive things about the man I am so passionate about, today.  If, as I'm sure will be the case, I have need to be reminded of why I choose to continue to battle the disease of addiction in myself and my husband.  Why do I choose to battle with no weapons and no armor?

He is a good man who makes horrible decisions at all the wrong times.
If I give up on him before the miracle of recovery happens, who will be there as witness?
I don't owe him a damn thing!
I owe it to myself to be able to say that I did everything I could, within my power, before I leave him to his own devices.
He has never, ever made the decision to give up on me.  (but again, I owe him nothing)
I can NOT work a program of recovery FOR him.  I can only show him how I  work for my own recovery.
There are a great many things that I feel passionate about, but none of them are as great as him.
His moments of clarity and connection are beautiful, powerful, and all that I have ever wanted to share with him.   They are the stuff my dreams are made of.

Today, I have strength and love, hope and faith in the universe. But there will be days ahead that I will need to read this again and again and remember the feeling behind this decision that I get to make every day.


I want...

I want you to feel my pain.
to be the best reason for you to wake-up in the morning
to be a perfect reason to not stick another needle in your arm.
to see me and look upon me with love in your eyes again.
to be grateful for the gifts of my love and suffering, and recovery.
I want to be perfectly honest with you and tell you how much you are killing me and how much I cannot let you go into the dark night alone without me by your side to fend off the nightmares that haunt your precious mind that I love so dearly.
I would have you hold me again and again and again if you could just help me with this pain that is so heavy and palpable but slips through my fingers with every grasp.
I can not do this alone without you but I keep waking up to you not here in spirit leaving me with your body to do it anyway.
I am so lost in the sea of emotions that I so newly born to.

I had another nightmare.

Do you know what I dream of anymore? This, exactly this horror of heartbreak that you are okay with living out right in front of my eyes.  The chains I see around you, pulling tighter and further away from me.  I have nightmares of you using and then I wake up and you are one step further away from me, closer to death. I cannot stop you or say the right words to help you stop yourself. I fell asleep crying. I cried in my sleep.  I am awake, crying.  The pain of watching your dance, such a beautifully designed tragedy,  unfolding before my eyes is killing what is left of my heart.  You asked me if I was okay this morning.  I could barely whisper, "I am in pain." I just want to make it all stop.  Stop the world's endless spinning and yours.  I have to go... and sooner than you can be ready for.


This is going to hurt.

I am hurting again.  He has chosen to use again.  I try to sleep with all of my might but the pain comes with stillness. I have been busy all day to keep from my wicked mind that torments me with could've, should've, would've and why aren't you's. I am losing the battle to win the war but it feels like utter defeat.  I hear the words that say his decision is not a reflection of me or him but only of the disease.  I have no power.  The only thing that holds sway in his mind are the chemicals that he thinks he needs to be okay.  I dislike telling you but I have given him a proposal, go back to treatment or I leave.  I will not accept a life of the hell you create for yourself.  I can't.  Even now, the medicine dulls the panic but I'm not okay.  I am solid in my truth though.  There will be no more tears, no yelling or fighting, no begging or pleading, I have nothing left to offer but quiet resolve.  And it is then,  when I am so powerless that I am so powerful.


I am not doing well

So, I'm not doing what I am supposed to do.  I have forgotten about refilling my antidepressants yet again.  I have missed all of the doses I was supposed to take since Sunday night.  I am finally starting to feel the effects of these missed meds.  This is what happens when I think everything is getting better.  I self sabotage and pick up the same old bat and beat me up again.  I think I'm my own worst abuser.  Never have I ever,  let someone else treat me like I treat myself.  Never have I ever,  let someone else say the things that I say to me.  Never have I ever,  let anyone or anything defeat me like I defeat myself.  I'm tired of the inner struggle with me and my own will to die.   Where is my will to live? Why does it not show itself until I have given up on me for the hundredth time? I'm not done fighting, but I am just so tired of it.