[EllaBella]

“Doubt can be a bond as powerful and sustaining as certainty. When you are lost, you are not alone” - Father Brendan Flynn, Doubt


So here I am. Day 19. Just coming back from what supposed to be a relaxing 3 day break. Oh my poor stressed body and brains. Can’t even be bothered with yearning for a drink. I knew from the beginning that the idea of having romance with a married man wasn’t one of my greatest. I knew that three years ago, but I did not listen to my wise self. Three years ago I rarely listened to anyone. I am still not sure what actually holds this relationship, if I may call it so, together. Well, it use to be our binge nights, getting ****** on booze and coke, getting ****** in bed. Now I am sober. He doesn’t drink when I don’t drink. Sex is barely existent, not that it actually bothers me. I struggle everyday with keeping it straight. No more lies, excuses, no more drink. Trying to make each day as productive as possible. Trying to please his expectations, make it ’simple’, make it ‘nice’, ******* desperate housewife. The man comes home. Toilet paper folded clockwise instead of counterclockwise, I dared to drink directly from a juice box and his socks ain’t ironed… well, more or less. Tired.com… Stress-o-holic and Alcoholic on one shaky wagon.

After these 3 relaxing days I am exhausted, I just want to curl in bed and cosy up to my sweet dreams of freedom. The situation that I’m in gets more and more tangled every day. Do I love him? Question is, do I still remember how love should feel? ‘Being’ with someone that makes you want to cry eighty percent of the time, is not the best addition to my attempt on recovery. Oh, blimey. Choices…

Is this what happens when you start seeing your life, not as a blurry alcoholic’s vision? Life is grey, and yet I can see a rainbow hiding behind a mountain. I must cross this mountain, must clear it of all the crap barehanded. My fingernails will get dirty, I’ll tore my skin apart, I’ll tore his heart. The deed must be done. Through the darkness towards light, like an old man with a lantern walking through the 19th century London, lighting up the dark alleys. Step by step. Day by day. I am watching clouds now, they’re passing by, some are interwoven with violets. It’s good to be able to see violets again.