He's killing himself
and today I'm sad about it. I can't do anything, not one thing, to stop it. I can see the toll it's taking and the more I detach the more sadness there is. I guess fighting to control him/it keeps me angry instead of that sadness that comes with acceptance.
Part of the problem is the lives I've already lost to addiction.
I usually just let it go easily and get on with my life. But today I'm so sad. I can picture myself at his deathbed. It might take 5 or 50 years, but it's coming. We never know. His mother died from alcoholism in 2001, right after the birth of our second son. She stopped eating, was in a home for "dementia," but everyone knew it was later stages of alcoholism.
The ravages of alcoholism are like self inflicted dementia. He struggles with it, talks to me about it. I've had the kids for three days and he's been off work, so today he said, "well I've drank enough for awhile." He looks awful. He seems so small right now but I know after a few days of drying out he'll be robust and bigger.
It's also hard for me to face my life, the life I'm building-free of his negative beliefs about me. I think Naive's poem to me in an earlier post about how I need to let go of him has shaken my sense of safety in denial. Safety through denial! We're in the business!
you are like a running river and he's like a big rock.
you are on the move and he's static.
he is old and you are new.
he's complainig and you are questioning the very meaining of Life.
he's drinking and you are doing birkam yoga.
he's falling down and you are getting up from your knees.
he's f**king the deli girl and you are asking your HP for guidance.
he's a drunk and you are a super star!
Sure, these things make us smile at first, but this also makes me very sad. Yes, it's his choice to destroy his life. That's what we tell ourselves and each other. But is it? If his drive to destroy his life through drinking is anything like my drive to try to control him and his drinking,