So we find ourselves in the hottest of summers, and my husband has a new job. But it works him all day every day… At first I guess we both thought it a good thing… but he is exhausted. He never has time anymore to play music or video games or any of the things that he used to do to relieve stress.
And my husband, who was an art major, is working those long hours as a mechanic… not the life of an artist his mother had planned for him when he was young, and certainly not what he wanted for himself either. Not that I am doing much better. I am feeling very much a career failure at 44, just having applied for my unemployment and looking for what he calls a “proper” job.
However, I was able to buy our groceries yesterday with money from the sale of my artwork, which is suddenly getting some local interest. I have never sold my art before. I am happy and feeling accomplished for the first time in a long time. He, on the other hand, is not happy. He isn’t happy for me, or happy about anything else.
Sometimes when he talks about cocaine, he seems like it was the best thing he ever did… like it is a friend he misses, but is forbidden to see. He talks about coke with the same glow as I get when discussing childbirth. When I ask him, “would using really make you happy?” he doesn’t seem to know the answer. And that is sad.
Back in June, on our son’s 19th birthday, I woke up and he was gone. Before I was out of the bed, I knew. And I was right. Even though our nephews were here spending the night, he could not stop himself from getting so high that I thought he was going to have a heart attack. Our son and oldest nephew saw him red-faced, sweating and disoriented in our front yard. Then I literally passed out at one point… I feeling so overwhelmed, not believing that he would or could do this in front of all the boys, that he would risk whatever credibility he had left with our son. I felt hot and suddenly I went from standing in the hall to lying on the den sofa… and of course, they all heard us yelling at each other. This, while we are trying to be a port in a completely different storm, to our nephews.
He cannot comprehend, I think, what he has done.
Things had been going pretty well and that caught me off guard… but it also reminded me that as long as I am with him, I can never let that guard down. Never. And I hate living this way. My son hates it. My husband hates it. He does not want to deal with my suspicions, or why I feel the way I do. He will not admit he contributed to it at all. He constantly makes it clear how sore, tired, and miserable he is. He rarely speaks to me or our son otherwise. He is too exhausted for much of anything. It is a recipe for the perfect storm. I feel another relapse coming any minute.
If I could financially afford to start over, at this point, I would. Having a disabled son who isn’t working means I would have to support two people. Right now, I cannot do it. Right now, I cannot even afford life insurance on my husband. We lost our health insurance in April and I live in a constant state of worry and fear. I wish he had let me go years ago when he started using… when he discovered that he wasn’t happy and that it was necessary to lie to me. God knows where my son and I would be now if he had. If only…
I have a friend who tells me to go meet someone, get my mind off this, to treat myself, forget it, ignore it, and move on. I already have a man who would be perfect to distract myself with. What keeps me here? I don’t know. What keeps me faithful? I really don’t know. It’s not like we have a sex life. I have been told more than once that I should be replaced with a new, clueless and trusting woman.
Maybe I stay because I have never been alone. It is fear of the unknown. I have another friend who said sometimes the devil you know is better than the one you don’t. I guess when the unknown starts looking like the best option, I will finally go. I just hope he doesn’t kill himself first.
