brokenheartfool

After much confusion and frustration on my part on me and my exah discombobulated communcation, I figured it out.

He's trying to get sober. Maybe for the first time in his life. He didn't tell me. He has a LOT of pride. But a few conversations with he's "working on himself" and things to that nature, it's clear. He was sober on the phone the last few times, and hasn't called me drunk in awhile, although I do know through the grapevine that he was sloshed this month at least one day.

So great. He's working on it! It's what I always wanted, right? A sober him?

I DON'T KNOW THIS PERSON.
And we're recently divorced. And he's creating a new self image.

I suddenly realized I'm to take the back seat again. Before, to alcohol. Now, to sobriety. Not quite ever the priority, and even less now than ever.
NOT GOOD ENOUGH. I thought he was wanting to reconnect with me!

I'm pissed. Really pissed, and not the british kind, the American angry kind.
I feel as if I'm being used to gain insight into his life, our divorce, and to use me as a memory bank for the times he was drunk, to figure out his life and why it didn't work.
But I know I'm not a priority. That is hard to take, that's the bitter pill to swallow.

But mostly, I'm a mess here, all by myself, an ex wife becoming a fading distant memory each day as he forms the new sober to be proud of himself image. He is fixing himself, and I am left wounded to fend for myself.

My head is messed up. My logic was messed with for years, as to what reality is, what sanity is, what normal behavior is, you name it.
That had a very strong destructive effect on me, and I don't even get a blue ribbon for enduring it all. I get nothing. Just exwife status and my own messed up head.
I've read all about this. I know what to expect. It's happening right now. The usual he's getting sober, and she's left with the wounds of the path of destruction.
I don't know how to work on me. All those years of insanity, all those years of pain, all those years of bad friend and family relationships because of shame, pain, anger, pain, anger, codependency, depression, you name it.
But no recognition for what we endured. No blue ribbon. Just wounded and thrown to the curb while he forms his squeaky clean new life.

For him, it's simple. Don't drink. Figure it out. Rational thoughts will come.

For me, it ain't simple. I'm left with no alcohol to blame, no new sober thoughts, no easy way to create the squeaky clean new life. Just the mess. I feel like while he partied, I went through the war, and he can't even remember the war, as he was drunk. So a lot less bad memories for him! Lucky him to have been checked out all that time.

I know some of you have fixed yourselves. Pointers please? No 12 step slogans, they don't do it for me.
I'm angry and I want validation and it isn't coming, ever.