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.

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