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September 8, 2013

I used too much of too much tonight to really type quickly or get to the point. But I will try.

It was one of those nights. Where you know you’ve gone back into the ravine before you’re really there. You know it, as you grab your clothes. As you put on your make-up. As you grab your purse and check your cell phone -just in case. It’s gaping in front of you, but you deny it. Don’t even feel it, it’s not there. If you pretend it’s not there, it will be, and that’s ultimately what you want.

I have been applying for jobs and going to job interviews, like a good girl. But I’ll have to hear back from them. I’m waiting for the most brainless ones, so I can keep my free time for myself and go to my job without needing to give fucks. That’d be nice.
I want to wake up early-ish in the morning, go to a job that is entirely void of meaning, and go home at a given time, sag down on the couch like a potato and watch tv. That’s all I want, and need.

I wish I could die without the pain it would inflict on others. Just die inside so I can function sufficiently to keep everybody happy -my life goal/curse forever and ever- but not have to feel. Perfection. Is there anything that does tha- Oh, yeah.

 

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Woman

August 3, 2013

I’m going to write this post because I think some of these thoughts could be helpful to others. My boyfriend doesn’t like it when I write on here without talking to him, because he wants us to communicate directly. Which is surprisingly demanding on his part. Writing here is often the only way I can let my emotions float freely. I should probably create a blog somewhere else, where he can’t read it.

I am just. So. Angry. At everything. At life. At things going the way they’re going. At him, for asking me if I’m “getting some good rest”, what do you think you fucking moron. At myself for not being stronger or better adapted to the situation. At him, at him, at him. He’s usually my source of comfort, but right now my voice is actually suffocated by anger. I can barely breathe anymore from all this fucking disappointment, anger and sadness that I’ve been swallowing, munching and forgiving.
It’s like a disgusting worm of pent up shit that is wriggling its way back up my throat, digging a hole in my chest.

I’m so angry that I’ve bent over backwards to be dependable, reliable and responsible, to always make sure paperwork, tickets, flights were well taken care of, to prepare things for when he would be here. And I never got that in return, never. I’m angry that I’ve read countless blogs, books and websites, committed to learning about alcoholism and how to be the best partner for him. I’m angry that even now, I’m angry at myself for being obviously codependent and therefore the only real culprit for my feeling this way. I’m angry that I’ve felt completely alone in all this.

sarcasm

He’s the alcoholic on his throne, anyone who can’t deal with that, is just codependent. Nobody can ask or expect him to never drink again, he’s the poor alcoholic, isn’t he? You can’t wait for that promise, you silly goose. He will drink again, and you should be prepared for that, as a good wife! And you will be supportive, and calm, and you will forgive him, because he’s a drunk and he can’t be held accountable for this! You can’t stress out about material shit, and you can’t lay too much on him, because it will stress him out! You must be FLAWLESS! Prepared to give him space when he needs it, but be close when he needs comfort! You must be patient, not expect his sobriety IN THE LEAST and BE INDEPENDENTLY HAPPY. When he’s passed out drunk in a dark alley, at any mugger’s mercy, you should NOT CALL 911. That’s your cue to take a nice hot bath and have a careless, 10 hour sleep!
His only priority is to go to AA and work on his sobriety, you as a wife are just a CRUTCH -especially your cooking skills. You should be prepared to raise children on your own, and to let him be the FUN PARENT who plays dangerous games with them while you’re not looking!
He will lie to you regularly, but you will STILL trust him inherently! Your own honesty will not be rewarded or acknowledged, it will be taken for granted every single day. In fact, everything will revolve around his AMAZING accomplishment of not having drunk for 24 hours, and EVERYTHING YOU DO will PALE IN COMPARISON NO MATTER WHAT. Besides the exhausting life of the alcoholic’s partner, which entails emotional sensors, x-ray fucking vision into his thoughts and chameleon-like abilities to adapt to his waves, you will also have a JOB AND CAREER because he won’t always be able to work or keep a job. You will NEVER FAIL to work your job consistently, but he will flutter from job to job, occasionally fucking up lifetime opportunities. SUCH IS LIFE.
Don’t expect empathy for your role in the relationship from him, either. Never forget that HE IS THE VICTIM OF THE DISEASE. When you get angry, he will counter it with excellent quotations from the big book and you will have to admit YOUR OWN WRONGS. It sucks! But for the marriage to work, YOU will have to do all the work. Many nights you will feel alone, hurt and tired, but none of it will matter if HE is having an amazing day! He will fucking mesmerize you with convoluted mindgames until you’re involved in some kind of fun activity he came up with! It’s GREAT!
Whenever you do something UNEXPECTED as a reaction to his drinking, he will suck up ALL YOUR SPACE and DEMAND that you reaffirm your love for him. But, never forget, YOU are NOT allowed to take his drinking personally. YOU are just the crutch, and you should just KNOW your place even if he gives you no reassurance.

This is your life now. You are that woman.

Settled

August 2, 2013

Things have finally settled down. It feels like I worked through it, the anger is gone and I’m working on the forgiveness part. Which isn’t really something I have to ‘muster’ like a lot of people say. When you love someone, it kind of comes on its own as soon as you realize it’s just not worth it.

Do I want to be angry and feel miserable? No. Do I want to make him feel worse? No. Do I want us to fight, to have endless discussions, to say harsh things? No.

Codependency is such a sneaky, invisible thing. I never even thought I was codependent until it started to hurt me and I was willing to look closer into what I was doing. Maybe every partner is a little codependent. You’re barely in a relationship if you’re not, right? I still want him to give me a heads up about where he’s going, that won’t just go away. It’s not about control over him, it’s about me knowing how I can get to him if I need to. 
For some reason, when our relationship is ok, we almost melt together. I feel completely overwhelmed, because I’m crazy about him and I can’t seem to function separately from that notion. He has the same thing though, I know he loves me very much and can’t live without me. It feels really good, we’re in this pool of absolute and unconditional adoration for each other and exchange information that wouldn’t make sense to an outsider.
But then there are these sources that say that’s not healthy. We’re both addicts, and maybe we’re still really extreme in this.

Food for thought.

Greyhound

July 29, 2013

Day 1 of keeping my distance. Last night I sent him a very gentle e-mail, explaining how it’s probably important that I take a step back and take care of myself now for a few days. Unfortunately, he probably took it like he was supposed to do the same. In fact, I have no idea where he is, or what he’s doing. Last I heard he was at the airport, met some kids at an AA meeting nearby and was going to watch a movie with them.

We’ve had the “please keep me posted”-conversation so many times, I’m giving up on it. This is something I need to get ready for, and learn how to handle. He won’t keep me posted. I won’t know where he is and I will have to go to sleep alone. That’s how he is, how he’s always been. Nobody was ever interested where he was before, this is not something he’s ever had to learn.

Or maybe that’s not entirely true. His sister has been messaging me continuously asking for news. His roommate did the same. His dad was probably kept posted through his sister mostly, but I know they’ve all been messaging my boyfriend directly as well. He barely replied, he barely acknowledged their worry (which is code for their love).
People have always wanted news from him. As a teenager, falling off the face of the earth was probably his comfort zone, because they wanted news. A way to escape the shame, the guilt, his responsibilities. As crappily as family can respond sometimes (“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS” etc), as an adult you still have to own up to what you did.

When he disappeared in the past, their worry would double. Where could he be, what was he up to? Coming home everyone would be so relieved he was okay, the repercussions of his childish behavior wouldn’t seem so big.
Today he probably takes their worry largely as an insult. He’s almost 30, he doesn’t need anyone to worry or look out for him. The more people worry and fire “where are you?” messages at him, the more he regresses in that strange disconnected zone, where he will take the space he’s got and kick everyone else out of it. This is the point where he turns off his cell phone, disappears and enjoys the anonymity of a new town. There’s another 10 days before I arrive there, and he will use those days to vanish.

He’s always done tiny roadtrips when he was younger, escaping. Nobody knew him there, he could just be an innocent visitor, nobody would judge him. The bottom line being that he likes to avoid his past.

Soon we are to be married. He could use this time to go back home and make some additional preparations. Prepare the house, look for nice places for us to go. But he won’t. I’m going to arrive and I don’t even know if anyone will be there to pick me up. Luckily I know there’s Greyhound buses from the airport to where he- “we” live, so I can always go that route.

I know I will be fine. And that’s all I need to be concerned with. If he’s not, that’s his problem. Not mine. Not anymore. I won’t lie for him, or cover for him. I will inform people of what he does, to my knowledge, and fuck ‘being in each others corner’. He’s not even in mine. For the first time in days, I feel like I can breathe.

Pool

July 28, 2013

I feel I have a lot to vomit now. This blog comes alive as I sink inside my own pool of confusion.

When my boyfriend relapsed this weekend, a week of very intensive contact preceded it. He was stuck at an airport, and I felt obliged to keep him company through Skype. After all, it was for me, for us, that he was sitting there, sacrificing time and sleep. My self esteem is actually low enough that that made me feel guilty. Looking back now, I’m disgusted by my own lack of character, my weakness. I really am so, so weak.
What I should have done, was to live on. Take my mind off things, relax and enjoy the Summer. Maybe he wouldn’t have relapsed at all then.

This relationship will absolutely destroy me if things stay the same. But there is no way out of it. Some days I think maybe there could be, maybe I could learn to mourn it and survive it being over. Maybe I could meet someone else, someone who wouldn’t endanger me. My essence. Someone who isn’t an alcoholic, who would just love me. Not because of a desperate cling to life, to salvation, not because he sees in me some kind of sign. Just because he likes me, and grows fond of me, and eventually wants to be with me and respect me.
But it is what it is. I did fall insanely in love with him. So now all that’s left for me to do, is work on myself so I don’t die from it.

Sometimes I don’t know if his love for me isn’t an incredibly selfish claim he lays upon me. If it isn’t his own needs who dictated this relationship to ever come to exist. A big part of that probably being my own fault.
I’m much, much too easy. Once I left him, early on, but I don’t think I could ever find that strength back.

My needs are… My needs are for him to be reliable. For him to be dependable and responsible, and constantly too. My needs are small, and often maybe materialistic, but they are necessary for all the rest. It feels like I’m the only one paying attention to reality. My needs are also the ones who are ignored, and I am left helpless to find out how to change that feeling. Because I’m the one who isn’t communicating, I’m the one who lets him determine the mood. I’m the one compromising my own wishes for his sake, because he has to be okay.
But how do I stop doing that? How do I put my foot down and grow independent from his mood? He will suck all the air out of my lungs if he needs it, and I will probably willingly exhale.

He’s an addict, he will always be that way. I have to be the force that resists. But I need a force like that myself, and he will never be that for me. He will randomly, and without notice fail me. He gets to do that.
So maybe I’m expecting too much. He shouldn’t be my rock, my thermometer. He’s just a man.

It’s time to grow up and resist him. Because he will always ask for more, he will always try to grab what he can get, and he will never be able to consider my capacity while doing so.