The Water Bottle
Sharing, because I don't think I'll ever fully get over the paranoia.
My RAH is in his 5th year of recovery and all signs are that everything is going well. We've rebonded, life is good, blah blah blah.
Our college student son was home for Christmas break and went back to school in late January. Unless he's home, no one uses the basement. He spends a lot of time down there with his friends, playing video games, and just hanging out. There has been a half-filled water bottle on the coffee table since he left. I see it when I pass through to go to the laundry room. I just walked by every time because when I see a water bottle I just assume it's filled with vodka because that was my husband's M.O. I used to find water bottles all over the house, and would open them, sniff them, and then freak out over and over and over again. Although I know better, I just couldn't rid myself of the thought that there was vodka in the bottle and I had something to worry about. I was afraid to open it because I just didn't want to know.
The other day I finally said something to my husband about it. He opened it, sniffed it, smiled and said, "just water." And then I relaxed, until the next time I run across a dreaded bottle of water.