25 Years with an Addict

Growing up in an abusive home, I always dreamed of what my family would be like when I got grew up and got married. Certainly would never treat my children like "this", nor my husband. I would use time outs, and talks, not screams, scolding and the spanks. But I failed.

Everyone always said you'll marry someone like your father, but I said they were wrong. I wouldn't be married to an abusive drunk and I definitely wanted to break the mold that seemed to be in my family genes. But I didn't.

I met him while I was working at a pageant, of course, 2 strangers catch eyes, the shock, the instant attraction that drew him right to me. I was going from table to table picking up tickets and as he handed me his, he said his name and that he thought "I might want to know it". And I did.

And so it began, one of his friends knew who I was and gave him my number, he called. I knew by the same feeling the night we met that it was him, the man who gave me his name. I was giddy with butterflies that he had called, not sure how he got my number. But he did.

And so it started, he had just gotten out of rehab. Plus! Two things off my list for the perfect husband, he didn't drink or do drugs! He was sweet and attentive, cards and flowers. Liked to spend time alone with me, we talked about everything, Until we didn't.

After 14 years of marriage he quit coming home on time. I noticed the changes immediately, his words got harsher, touches not so much. I thought he was cheating, because he kept blaming me for cheating, and I heard that's often a sign. And he was.

All of the sudden he was distant and he treated me like I had the plague. Our life became not about the things I was doing right, but what I was doing wrong. The verbal abuse many. Cutting me down. Making me feel worthless and that I couldn't be wanted by anyone else. I told him I wanted a divorce. He didn't.

Of course he straightened up, promised it would be better. And it was for awhile. Then came him starting arguments with me so he'd have an excuse to leave, knowing I wouldn't go anywhere with him while we were arguing. So he went.

I started hiding once I smelled the alcohol on his breath, in my bedroom self isolating to avoid the conflict. But I also self isolated myself from our children. I didn't think it was hurting them, because then we weren't arguing in front of them. But it did.

Once the physical abuse started, I left. Moved out. But he always came to see the children and stayed. Then I moved back, because, well... because he was trying again. Trying to go back to where we were. He loved me and I still loved him and we had the kids. I didn't want them in a broken family. And I didn't realize that we were broken. Because we were.

I woke up one morning thinking, I love this man, but I don't like him. I couldn't really stand the sight of him and I hated being his babysitter when he was drunk. Because it always seemed... he was.

I started doing things on my own and with the kids. Didn't sit at home waiting and wondering if he was going to be on time for dinner. He never was. I quit waiting for him, living for him. I started living for myself and each day got a little stronger, not worrying about him nor... what he does.

My kids and I seemed happier, I started smiling again. And then I noticed my children as they got older were becoming his sitter. Making sure dad was okay. Making sure to help him when he passed out drunk, while I was I in my bedroom avoiding conflict. I thought I was doing good, but I wasn't.

They didn't want us to divorce, so I stayed longer, miserable, so they wouldn't be separated from this man that they loved, but I hated. I stayed until they graduated. Now we're separated.

He still loves me. I still love him and he wants me back. But those last few years of self isolation taught me to start loving myself again. I love him, but still hate him at the same time. I still think about how many smiles were wasted for tears. How many years I lost being happy, when I could have been with someone else who made those smiles widen. Because I could have.

I look at him now and feel sorry for him. Feel sorry for the person I knew when he was sober for 14 years, because the last 11 have been hell for me.

But my children were somewhat happier having us together. But if I could do it all over again, I'd have left at the first sign of trouble. It's not worth losing your sanity and withdrawing from the world. There are too many things to be missed, too many smiles to be wasted...