Relapsed. Can't say I didn't see this coming.
RAH relapsed. Some red flags have been flying for a month or so, but I wasn't certain so I decided to wait and see what happened. He worked late tonight. I came in from running errands with the kids and he was sitting at the counter eating and in a great mood. He smelled like vodka. It was unmistakable.
There wasn't really a confrontation. Out of earshot from the kids, I calmly asked when he started again, and he denied it, so I calmly asked again, and he denied it. He went away for a few minutes and came back with a story about having bought a couple of airline bottles a few weeks ago and just drank one tonight. That's one quack he's told me before. The boundary has long been that if he's drinking, he can't be with me and the kids. So he packed a bag. I suggested that he might fess up to his parents so he had a place to stay and call his sponsor and go to work in the morning. He decided to go to a roach motel instead, which is his relapse pattern. He also tends to relapse around holidays, which I've always found to be an extra insult on top of injury. We just celebrated a happy anniversary together, and this week is our son's birthday. How ****** it is for DS to go through this on his birthday.
The thing is, I don't feel much about it. I'm disappointed, sure, but I also saw this coming. He wasn't seeing his therapist, wasn't calling his sponsor, wasn't going to meetings. He was avoiding being near me, avoiding kissing me, and sleeping on the couch again, which is what he used to do when he wanted to get loaded in secret after I went to bed.
My heart was broken last year, and since then I've been trying to give him space to figure things out and figure out how to work a program (he didn't) and accepting his help around the house and whatever income he was bringing in. This time gave me the space to do my own recovery program and get my head together. I'm grateful that I've been doing the personal work I have. I had a nice rest of the evening with the kids, did some laundry and dishes, and I'm about to go to bed. No tears, no dramatic confrontations, just acceptance. This is what it is. I'm sorry about it, but it was out of my hands.
He texted me with reassurances that he's in this motel with no booze. I'm not responding. I think I'm done. I don't know how things are going to play out in the future, and I'm really trying not to future-trip myself into living with my parents again (which is likely), but I'm done. There are more silver linings here than finally having permission from yourself to step away from the alcoholic, and I'm going to find them.
I would really appreciate your support and wisdom right now. Be gentle.