I kind of promised myself when I started this blog that I wasn’t going to cuss like a sailor. A swear word here and there would only be permitted if warranted. So on that note, today was a joke of a dip-shit fuckin’ day. And it had everything to do with alcohol. I’ve already written about how my husband still drinks. Now for the record, I’m extremely proud of him. He’s managed to cut his drinking, maybe not quite but close to, in half of what he used to. When I stopped drinking alcohol- or rather – when I did not start drinking it again one day, he too, decided to take a break. One major event led up to that last day of mine. That day was awful, and something happened inside of me and I don’t know if it was something that broke down or woke up. That day I’ll share with you soon. Today, I just need to vent about thee day. If you’ve ever been sober around drunk people, I feel like you either tolerate it well or just about not at all. I have a sister who does not drink and she will happily hang out with the booze hounds. She’ll drive them from bar to bar, she’ll make sure they eat, she’ll make sure they’re having fun and she’ll gladly join in on all the bar games. Then she makes sure every one is home safely and she smiles during it all. I’m not freakin’ kidding! Then there’s me, who just smells the alcohol on someone’s breath and wants to exit the premises immediately. Will go out of their way to avoid a conversation when the slightest twang of a slur is detected. And don’t ever ask me to be your D.D.

I think what makes me so badly want to throat punch drunk people is that at last I realize what alcohol has taken away from me. Not only tons of money, my youth, my health, my appearance, 25 years of my life, and many more things. Most importantly, it’s stolen thousands and thousands of beautiful memories. Every time I would get together with my family or friends for camp-outs, weekend getaways, celebrations; it was all taken away from me. I’d wake up and I’d remember the gist of what went on, but the details that make those memories so wonderful would be gone. On top of that, I could usually sense immediately upon waking if the previous evening had been fun or if I was in need of apologizing to someone. Usually, I was not aware of to whom, or for what. But it was dreadful feeling that happened way too often. One might say it was a blessing in disguise that crappy nights could be forgotten, but I don’t agree with that. I want to be present, alert, and prepared for anything. I want to be in control of me. I wish I could have all of those memories back. Good and bad. I have lost so much of my life and time that was gifted to me and I don’t want to waste another minute of it. These kinds of thoughts and feelings are a driving force for me and I want so badly for my husband and others to feel them, too. He and I are trying to learn how to co-exist together. A sober rover and a buzz-ard, chillin’ under one roof. It’s been an ever winding road with lots of downed trees and wires, to say the least. When he drinks too much like he did today, it lights a fire inside of me. And not the warm snuggly one you want to sip hot chocolate in front of. It angers me because of the never-ending talks we have about how he wants to change and I see him struggle to do so. I know how it feels to be lost and not know how to get to that place you’re just short of grasping. I also know, like I mentioned above, that he’s almost cut his drinking in half. So this issue he still carries, is way better than it used to be. But it’s still just not good enough, and I think I know why. I think that he tells himself he doesn’t need to quit. He just needs to cut back. He just needs to slow down and drink in moderation. I don’t buy it. I don’t think there’s a way for him to live like that. For many people, there sure could be. For him, me, and so many others, I believe in my heart that there’s only one way out of this successfully. To stop drinking alcohol forever. It saddens me because for the first time in my life I know the truth about alcohol. I know how it robs you of joy and ability to be who you were meant to be. How it takes away the memories that help shape you and bond you to others. I know how it turns my beautiful and amazing husband into random different versions of himself that I honestly cannot stand and that sometimes has me on the verge of getting a hotel room cause I don’t feel comfortable being at home. This is the kind of day I had. I’ve had so many of them and it gets a little worse each time, which scares me. I just miss him and I just want him to know that even though I’m incredibly frustrated on days like today, I fully understand his struggle. How do I help him? How can I help you?

Looking Ahead . . .

Right now, I’m thinking about the morning more than anything. How my husband will feel when he wakes up. Will he apologize for drinking too much? Will I tell him I understand but I hate it and then we hammer out the whole vicious monotonous conversation we have most mornings? . . . I’d better get him some ice water for when he wakes up in a few hours dying of thirst. My God, I do not miss hangovers . . .