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~ Life With An Alcoholic Husband

QuietRagingWaters

Monthly Archives: July 2017

The Bliss, The Pressure Of Nothing

22 Saturday Jul 2017

Posted by quietragingwaters in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Funny how the lyrics of a song can reflect one’s emotions so clearly while the video is miles off. I’m hardly at the young and fearless age – and we won’t even consider what I’d look like from behind skateboarding in a bikini – but the words in this song are spot on when it comes to what I want in life.

What I feel is missing.

My husband is away this weekend and so this morning I was left with the task of getting four kids up and out the door to four different places.

Starting at 6 am! (Who schedules these sporting events?!) As you can imagine, the children for whom rising out of their cozzy beds was due to their sibling’s needs, were none to happy about it. And more than willing to be vocal about it. But as I got whinny or sleepy or whinny and sleeping children up and directed out the door, something magical was happening.

Nothing.

As is no yelling, no tension, no snapping at one another.

It’s shocking – in the most painful way – how much him simply being present negatively affects everyone in the household. And I’m probably the most reactive.

My friend deals with the opposite in her alcoholic husband.

This past weekend he called his children vulgar names and threatend to “beat the shit out of everyone.” This is no small thing to be living with and so I know – I know, I know, I know – that the nothingness which I shoulder everyday may seem like a cake walk when compared to the other alcoholic husband options. But as I told my friend (or did I already write it here?):

It’s not that one of our situations is “better” than another. It’s just the difference between having nothing to eat and only having garbage to eat.

Either way you’re starving.

Why Do We Do It?

07 Friday Jul 2017

Posted by quietragingwaters in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

My husband is turning 50 in September and I am in the middle of planning a birthday party for him. Nothing huge, certainly not a surprise party but a nice party none-the-less.

A friend of mine friend spent nearly $500 for baseball tickets and his favorite player’s jersey for her husband’s birthday.

Another friend organized a big family trip to Ireland in celebration of their wedding anniversary.

These two friends are also married to alcoholics.

These two friends live with the same uncertainty, the same vitriol, the same anger and moodiness. The same hostility, erratic behavior, verbal assaults and compulsive drinking we all do as wives of alcoholics.

So why do we do it?

Why do we plan nice things and orchestrate nice outings and create nice memories for husbands that are, shall I just say it, not really deserving of such?

Is it for them?

Is it for our children?

Is it for ourselves?

Or is it we just can’t help ourselves?

I think we just can’t help ourselves.

I don’t think we’re door mats or enablers.

I don’t think we’re weak or co-dependent.

I certainly don’t think we are stupid nor do I think doing nice things for someone who isn’t very nice should be viewed in an unfavorable light.

Quite the opposite.

I think that fact that we still do nice things, that we try to stay true to OUR values and OUR beliefs is commendable.

Not condemn-able.

We do it, I suppose, because that’s how we want to live life.

Why I Finally Feel Ready To Leave

03 Monday Jul 2017

Posted by quietragingwaters in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

alcoholic father, alcoholic husband, live life, married to alcoholic, wife of an alcoholic

People in the “outside” world seem to be befuddled by the fact that the wives of alcoholics don’t simply run for the door the first time they trip over a pile of “empties.” They think drinking problem = marriage dissolution. No questions asked. No doubt. No remorse or hesitation. If only it was that simple.

Or easy.

Or painless.

No, leaving our alcoholic husbands is never simply, easy and certainly not painless though that seems to befuddle the outside world as well. Why would we grieve leaving some “no-good drunk” of a husband?

Well, for lots of reasons I won’t go into right now. What I will go into is why I finally (finally?) feel ready to leave. Ironically, it has nothing to do with his drinking, per say.

I asked my husband if he wanted to take a vacation this summer.

“We can’t afford it.”

“Who is going to watch the dog?”

“I don’t know if I can get off work.”

No sooner did he finish his last objection thent I realized,

“Oh my God! I have been listening to these excuses for 20 years!”

Everything – EVERY! THING! I have ever – EVER! – presented to my husband in terms of our lives, direction we might take, dreams we might pursue, adventures we might create has always – ALWAYS – been met with the same – SAME – reasons why we CAN’T.

First and foremost is the steadfast,

“We can’t afford it.”

I don’t care if I was suggesting planting a willow tree in the backyard or taking an overnight trip to the lake.

“We can’t affort that.”

It’s his go-to, his safety, his stand-by.

Then, depending on the situation, he has his alternates.

The dog is a popular one for any sort of trip.

“What are we going to do with the dog?”

When I suggested we be foster parents (this was LONG ago, when I would even dare suggest such an idea), I guess since money is hardly an issue there, he had to pull out the,

“We don’t have room for that.”

There is also his all encompassing,

“That will never work.”

So when he said we “can’t afford” a vacation this summer, it hardly seemded the sort of thing that would cause a deep revelation within me. But that’s the thing with “revelations;” they may seem sudden, like a volcano erupting, but really they have been a long time coming. Like a volcano after all. The energy brewing and percolating beneath the surface, “undetected” until the day…

And so last night when my husband began with his litany of “can’ts,” it hit me,

“He will never want to do anything.”

His excuses are just that. Excuses. The real “excuse” is he doesn’t want to or can’t leave his comfort zone. He wants to work, come home, drink only to wake up and do it all again the next day. Now I by no means think he’s happy or fulfilled. No, I know he is quite unhappy but he’s not going to challenge that. He’s not going to work to Be happy. He’s just going to sit in our house, worrying and yelling about about money until the day he dies.

And THAT is why I finally feel ready to leave.

Because I want to LIVE…

Until the day I die.

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