Callalily

...and my life has changed completely - no exaggeration.

It did take me a year-and-a-half to get to this point, and there were a few relapses along the way, but they became less and less frequent, and far shorter, thank God. I can honestly say I have no desire to drink. The obsession has been lifted.

The change I mention is extreme, in a good way, of course. I have been lucky enough to get an amazing job in my field (which has been incredibly stressful, but also rewarding). I have lost more than forty pounds, and am in the best shape of my life (again, not an exaggeration). Cutting out the booze took at least ten years off my appearance. I have seen my parents for the first time in three years, and the visit was actually pleasant and drama-free. I have moved into a new place that I love. Old friendships have been reestablished, and I have made some new ones. I feel stronger than I ever did, and found strength I didn't know I had. I have a terrific therapist, who has helped me recover from so much of the emotional pain I masked with drinking. My marriage, which had been poisoned by booze to the point of breakdown, has healed, or so I thought.

The last part is what I'm writing about. I'm not here to brag or pat myself on the back, although I do think it is worth emphasizing that there REALLY IS hope, and that things really do get sooooo much better. I thought I was a lost cause.

The main reason I'm writing is to ask if perhaps anyone out there can relate to the following. And if so, maybe has some advice.

My husband, who is the absolute love of my life, and who has been so incredibly kind and supportive throughout my recovery, seems to be increasingly negative the healthier I get.

He's just left for the weekend, and on the way out, we got into a bit of a quarrel over well...nothing, really. But this seems to be happening more and more often. Maybe my job stress is adding to the friction, but I can't help but feel he seems...I don't know, really snappy at me lately.

The strange thing is, we hardly ever fought or even bickered when I was deep in recovery. When he was almost literally having to hold me up.

As he was leaving, he told me "I needed to get to a meeting". Which crushed me. Not because I have anything against meetings, per se, it's just that drinking was the last thing on my mind, and I felt as though he was dismissing any of my progress.

Of course, as soon as he left, I almost felt like a drink. Which is not going to happen, but it's the first 'dark thought' that I've had in ages.

I am so grateful to him, and I do love him so, but right now, I'm so confused and angry. Does he not want me to recover?

Sorry for rambling. Feeling very blue, and almost hopeless like old times, and I guess I just needed to share. All advice welcomed. But please don't just say 'get to a meeting'.