It’s day four of Lover’s sobriety. This week I’ve gained a greater understanding of the burden he is carrying and how it has triggered his drinking disease. Everything is fresh, raw and overwhelming. I can try to understand, but I DO NOT condone his behaviour.
No alcoholic worth his salt and tequila falls short of selfishness. So neither do I accept his attitude of ‘my problems are bigger and worse than anyone else’s’. You’re not exclusive, I told him.
Everyone has big burdens that are heavy and meaningful to them; it’s all relative. You don’t have the right to invalidate them, to make yourself better or worse than anyone else. You’re being arrogant.
After taking him to the lawyer and doctor, I informed him this was where I got off his ‘crazy train’. I’m not a good passenger – I get motion sick. And besides, I’m too busy driving my own train. From here, the rest is up to you, I told him. I’m also not making a decision whether he stays or goes right now. The situation is too highly charged with emotion and its better to make a rational decision with the head, than an emotional one with the heart. I told him this as well.
I don’t even want to write this for fear of jinxing it……. He seems to have taken everything in – from the AA meeting, my psycho babble (courtesy years of therapy), printed google articles, to the lawyer and the doctor, and is eager to regain control and put his life back together.
That’s great . And he needs to go stand outside ‘cos he’s all so outstanding an’ stuff. But the secrets, the lies and betrayal, come at a cost. I don’t know who he is anymore. And I certainly don’t trust him. Time will be the only remedy and forecaster of what is to come.
Last night we were talking, I can’t even remember the topic, but he accused me of being ‘unfair’. Unfair? UN-FUCKING-FAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In what parallel universe is he in to consider my behaviour unfair? A finer example of an alcoholic’s self-centredness I could never find. I shut down and went to bed. Its his birthday this month. I’m considering buying him a conductor’s cap or perhaps some luggage so he can pack up his shit and hit the road.