Dear Michael,
Last night as you
prepared to put the baby to bed you stopped in the hallway and said to me, “You
haven’t said a word to me all day.” I told you I had nothing to say to you and when
you asked why I finally cracked and responded with, “Michael, I could smell it
on you when you passed out this afternoon.”
You looked away and I was prepared for you to deny it again, for you to
tell me that it was nothing and that my anxiety was getting to me again. Surprisingly, you looked at me and said, “I
drank today.”
“It’s not just today, Michael…”
“No….”
“I love you and I’m not going to
fight with you over this, but you owe me the truth. I deserve that much at the very least.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“We can talk, but we aren’t going
to fight.”
So, we put the
kids to bed and sat outside and had what I thought was one of our most productive
talks. You were honest when I asked how
many days now. I knew it was four. I
always know. You opened up about work
triggering the desire to drink. I assumed that much, but I let you tell your
truth.
What bothered me
the most this time was that I had to do some shopping about an hour away from
home yesterday and I stupidly assumed you wouldn’t be drinking until the night
came which is your usual routine. So, I
had left the boys at home with you. You
got drunk with our children in the house.
I expressed to you how angry this makes me. What would have happened if the baby who is too
brave on the stairs had missed his footing and fallen down them? What would
have happened if our oldest had been hurt in some way? You wouldn’t have been
able to care for them properly because of your inebriation. I won’t be leaving them alone with you
again. It’s not something to be proud of
when you can’t be left alone with your own children.
I’m not happy
about your relapse. But this time when I noticed you were drinking again, I chose
to take a different path. I’m tired of
pressuring you until you come clean.
Tired of the raised voices and the threat of divorce. I chose to distance
myself emotionally and do what I needed to protect myself and the
children. Not to protect us from
physical abuse. We are lucky in the way you have never laid a hand on us when
you have been drinking. Your style is more verbal, but that can be just as
painful. I protected us in the sense
that I limited the exposure to the children.
I chose not to fight so that they would not have to hear their parents screaming
at each other with hurtful words, powerless to stop it. I began to understand that your drinking is
not my fault. It’s not my choice and
therefore I needed to get out of the house and create positive, happy memories
with our children, instead of dwelling on the negative and painful.
Your drunken
stupor caused you to miss out on some beautiful moments though. You missed our 21-month-old
pushing a heavy bowling ball down the lane and then turning around screeching
and clapping his chubby hands together in excitement before the ball had even struck
any pins, running to the ball return to try to pick up a 14-lb ball by himself to
go again. Our oldest had a good time too, thrilled to find he was winning with
a score of 98, and overjoyed that mommy allowed him to have orange soda and pizza
for dinner.
You won’t remember
those simple joyful memories, because by 3 pm on a Saturday you were already passed
out, reeking of liquor. For me, the memory
of that evening at the bowling alley will be tainted with the knowledge that
you missed it because you were too drunk…again.
But what matters is that the children will have those fun memories of a
good night bowling with mommy. A special
day just for us. That is how I protected
them.
I was surprised to find you conscious
when we got home. I don’t think you liked
being left out. Who knows, maybe that’s
why you finally opened up as we put the kids to bed.
You thanked me for
my approach this time and claimed you would start going to AA again. We will see.
For now, we’ll count today as day 1 sober. As always, the hope is there that you will
remain sober, but I’m not holding my breath.
I’m just going to continue to grow in my own way. To learn how to deal with you and to be a fantastic
“single” mother when you force me into that position.
Love
V--
Comments
Post a Comment