timetogo

So tonight, my daughter told me she wanted to have a bunch of friends overnight next week. She said that she talked to her dad (who is still here but has things packed and claims he is moving into his new apartment on March 1) and he said it was ok with him, he has the key to his apartment and he will stay there that night.

I know that March 1 hasn't come yet and that I will believe he is going when he is gone. But it is what I asked him to do -- and what he said he is willing to do. He has only been paying the mortgage for about 2 months now (no other household bills) which puts quite a bit of money in his pocket. I was convinced he didn't have it in him to save it (not use or drink) and do what he said, which is leave.

So now, why am I panicking? I am questioning myself and wondering if this is the right thing to do. I have lived alone once since I was 16 (now 43). I can't even decide if I should go to the store or not most days, let alone ending my 27 year relationship. I am so full of anxiety right now that I can hardly stand it. I know all the things that will make me feel better (being here is one of them) but in the end, I feel like a failure, defeated, used, unloved and worst of all, alone.

I know I have to go "through this" but how? I feel so defeated.

Glenna9802

I am proud of you for having the guts to take a stand and stick to it. That is a quality that I haven't found yet, but I'm working on it.

My first marriage lasted 17 years, and then one night my husband told me he had been cheating and was moving out. I remember calling my best friend crying and filled with anxiety because the kids had to get up for school the next day, and I had to get them ready by myself because he wouldn't be there. I had never done it on my own before, because he had always taken care of everything (that says a lot right there, I guess).

Anyway, she told me that since I didn't have a choice but to get the boys ready and take them to school, I should just plow right through and do it. She told me it didn't have to be pretty and, in fact, would probably be pretty ugly, but that I would feel 100 times better after I did it. And she was right. The boys got to school just fine and undamaged, and I felt like I had accomplished something huge and was able to do more from there. I never forgot that.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's okay to feel the way that you feel right now. Let yourself feel those feelings and plow through anyway, because you will feel so much better on the other side having stuck to what you know is right. And it doesn't have to be pretty either. Trust yourself and stick with that!!!

I will be thinking of you

ToughChoices

Alone.
That is a powerful word.

Perhaps it would be helpful to think about this in different terms. From where I stand you will most certainly not be living alone - you've got a house FULL of teenage girls and their friends!

However, it sounds as though you will, for a time, be living without a romantic partner.
I'm doing that very thing right this minute. And I'm OK.

Actually, living in an alcoholic relationship is decent practice for living without a romantic partner - I was well accustomed to emotional distance, loneliness, and lack of spousal support well before I changed my physical address.

So what did I have to lose?

Living without an alcoholic partner means I get to live in a clean, sober, no-one-walking-on-eggshells, decorated-the-way-I-want-it house. I get to go to sleep when I'm tired and wake up as early as I please. I get to pursue my dreams every day. I get to be selfish. And, if, in time, a kind and interesting man wanders in my direction, I am free to explore the possibilities of another romantic relationship - one that, I dare say, may contain some emotional maturity and mutual support.

That was wordy.

Here's the rundown: You remember him being great, but TODAY he's not great for you. You won't be alone, you'll just be free of the burden of that "not great" guy. You are loved. You are triumphant. You are strong.


-TC

mca00

I am working on having a higher power in my life so that I am never without it-- never alone-- even when I am very often by myself.

LaTeeDa

It took me a long time to get past the notion that divorce=failure. It was ingrained in me from an early age. All my role models growing up were women who stayed no matter how bad it got, who professed that love was the most important thing of all, and could overcome alcoholism, abuse, infidelity, and neglect. Being a grown woman without a man was possibly the worst fate of all and it was to be avoided at all costs.

I learned through therapy and much reading that even though all these ideas were completely opposite of what I believed on an intellectual level, they permeated my emotions due to the constant presence of them in my childhood. I truly believed in my mind that I was an independent, liberated, modern woman. But my psyche had other beliefs.

There is still some disparity between my thoughts and my emotions. But I am aware of the paradox now and able to feel the emotions without doing something stupid. I am learning to accept and nurture my shadow rather than always trying to keep it under wraps. There are parts of me that I am not particularly fond of, but I'm now okay with that because I know that who I am is unique and wonderful, even the "ugly" parts.

L

Daisy30

I know the feeling exactly http://www.soberrecovery.com/forums/...me-breath.html

It gets better. It really does. My first night away I had to fight everything in my body to not go back. I am so glad I didn't! It is peceful here.

felicidade

I remember the first morning I was without him in the house. The night before, I cried and fought it in my head. I didn't want to admit to defeat either. I was terrified of it.

The sun rose. I woke up. Kids were watching TV downstairs. No Alex (I'm not going to lie - I did think about him first thing). I waited in bed, just taking it in.

Then, I started hearing the breakfast requests, and I seriously needed coffee. No choice but to get up and get going.

The house was exactly the same. Sesame Street sounded the same. But, I didn't feel defeated, actually. I felt like me, a little shocked but also a little lighter.

The acute loneliness of living with and longing for the man who shared my home and my bed but not my dreams and my heart was GONE.

It hasn't always been easy; but, every single day, my hope is greater and my gratitude deeper for the peace and love and strength that houses my children and and protects me from the pain of living with my AH.