my anniversary
Sitting here ruminating on my five years with J. 99% has been sheer hell, between hospital visits for alcohol poisoning and other things. He refuses to go back to rehab. When I called him this morning he was 'gone' that way and then three hours later still pretty much soaked. He 'generously' gave me 100 dollars because I was bouncing at the bank. Pretty hard to make any money with all that leave without pay and my stress about mom and dad and me and joe and now my nephew whom has finally admitted that he has a real problem with alcohol. I wish I could just take him and hold him and make it go away, but I weep because alcoholism doesn't work that way--I know by both hands. His girlfriend says she's leaving him and moving back to Texas, and he's determined to go with her. I wonder if it is because of love (he's doing very very well here with his job) or because of her false id with which she provides the booze. D's problem is that he, like I, becomes nasty and mean when drunk. Nobody who hasn't been in the grip of alcohol, that hideous beast that controls every thought every waking and sleeping moment, can understand what it's like being completely out of control because your genes are screwed up.
I sat for a long time on my bed this morning writing what i would need from J if we divorced or separated. He'd never agree to it, or would constantly be making me take him back to court. He lives in the bottle all the time and lies and lies and lies that it isn't happening. I must reclaim my life one way or another. I need another source of income, so I must throw myself into my writing for all I'm worth--or work at Walmart, or both. Then just let J die. He gets sicker and sicker with every binge and resembles the man i met, who told me he had cancer back then. he has some skin cancers but nothing else. Yet with rehab came a couple cigarette packs a day so cancer must be right around the corner. He is avoiding me because I have no doubt he looks like shit and very ill. I don't care. i have much to do around here. Heading outside to mow the back 40 since mom picked up the dog poop. She is snoozing in the chair at my side and dad is in the bedroom.
Higher power, you who send miracles, send one to my dear nephew now. I don't know if you as my higher power can do much until humility takes him and he asks himself, but if you can, please try. I love him so much and feel such helplessness as I watch him swept away in the muddy river of addiction.
I sat for a long time on my bed this morning writing what i would need from J if we divorced or separated. He'd never agree to it, or would constantly be making me take him back to court. He lives in the bottle all the time and lies and lies and lies that it isn't happening. I must reclaim my life one way or another. I need another source of income, so I must throw myself into my writing for all I'm worth--or work at Walmart, or both. Then just let J die. He gets sicker and sicker with every binge and resembles the man i met, who told me he had cancer back then. he has some skin cancers but nothing else. Yet with rehab came a couple cigarette packs a day so cancer must be right around the corner. He is avoiding me because I have no doubt he looks like shit and very ill. I don't care. i have much to do around here. Heading outside to mow the back 40 since mom picked up the dog poop. She is snoozing in the chair at my side and dad is in the bedroom.
Higher power, you who send miracles, send one to my dear nephew now. I don't know if you as my higher power can do much until humility takes him and he asks himself, but if you can, please try. I love him so much and feel such helplessness as I watch him swept away in the muddy river of addiction.