It is a gorgeous spring day, although winter's coming back for the weekend. I find it's best to have low expectations for March weather, then you enjoy the good days instead of ranting about the bad. Although I do that too...
It's been over 6 months now since I asked my alcohol dependent husband to move out. I really thought he'd get his own place, get on a wait list for treatment, and be back by now. Instead, he moved onto a friend's couch, drank like a fish and ended up in hospital after drinking a bottle of cough syrup. Does he think he's a rapper?
The hospital incident did seem to have gotten through to him, he was exploring rehab, and ended up going to see a counselor regularly. She is very good, as far as I can tell, given that my total experience of counseling is seeing her 2 1/2 times.
But but but - we were supposed to go together - and he showed up drunk. He drove there, too. It's probably a lapse, not a relapse, but this feeling of something is horribly wrong and I must cry just won't go away.
I think the uncertainty is getting harder to deal with. I can have certainty if I divorce him, but I'm not sure I want to do that, and given the agony and expense of the d-word, it's not something to do if you're not sure. I am sure, however, that I am not even close to ready to have him back.
What's next, then? Well, as it has been for 6 months, the ball's in his court. He needs to act to deal with his addiction, and replace his alcohol use with a life. Then maybe we can rebuild a life together. And maybe we can't. Either way, it'll be better for him and our kids than things are now.