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.