After last night, I knew I could never sleep in the same house while he was still in it. It was just too hard. So back to my Mother's, back to the pillow full of my tears, back to the dark room and back to picking up the pieces. I had to start to become determined again. The way I was before he expressed any remorse or willingness to get sober.
I had to remind myself of all his wrongdoings. Remind myself that his decision has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with his alcoholism. Just how he is powerless to alcohol, I am powerless to the decisions he makes due to the disease.
My Mom, sober for 15 years, has become somewhat of a pillar of support. Her getting fed up with his chosen path to sobriety was beginning to catch up with mine. She was starting to see the signs of his half-assed commitment. His wanting to do it his way, gentle, subtle and slow. I, on the other hand, was done.
He kept texting me, telling me he missed me, how hard it is to be in our house without me. But I was having none of it. I told him unless he moves in a sober house, there is nothing to speak about except his moving out. I told him to stop contacting me, stop hurting me and let me move on. Because I am finally ready and I have finally come to terms with the finality and there is nothing more to discuss.
Today was just another day of emptiness, sorrow and pain. Nothing more to articulate other than the feelings of finality, the indefinite end and the mourning of the loss of hope. I have no more and this time I have let go. And I am starting to loosen my grasp. It's really over.
No comments:
Post a Comment