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A letter to my husband, after one week of rehab(5 Posts)
I am a strong, independent woman. I don’t need your money. Things are tight but I am smart enough to manage, if you can stop helping yourself from the joint account whenever you feel like it. Stop being a martyr and thinking you have to support me, because you don’t. I think I told you how much I had been struggling on my own because I wanted you to understand the position you’ve put me in, to see the consequences of your disgraceful behaviour, but hear this - I don’t want or need you to rescue me. I don’t need your money, I need you to take responsibility for your recovery. Put your efforts into properly addressing your issues, not skating over the surface.
Your behaviour last Wednesday confirmed to me that you are not physically or emotionally safe for our daughter to be around, and your ongoing lies mean I will no longer take your words at face value. You can promise until you’re blue in the face but it means nothing to me; you have proved yourself untrustworthy and I will not risk my daughter’s safety by letting you back into her life yet.
Luckily, she has one parent who knows how to behave like a grown up, to take proper responsibility for her health, happiness and development. And luckily for her, despite my pain, I am rebuilding my sense of self – so damaged by your actions and choices over many years - and I am using my strength to be an awesome parent to her. That’s how we are different. Your pain makes you more selfish but my pain makes me more loving. That’s why I came to find you at Greg’s. But there’s a limit to how much disappointment I can take, and you obviously don’t value that love. Or you do value it a bit, but you value your substances more.
You have lied and lied and lied again, you have never been honest with me. Even up to last week you continued to lie to me, protecting yourself and giving me the ‘edited version’ of every situation. Make no mistake, it was not about protecting ME – your other behaviour has indicated clearly enough that you don’t give a shit about me. But you were blatantly lying, assuring me that you weren’t drinking, that you weren’t taking anything, when you actually drank all that gin, and who knows what else you were taking and doing in the days and weeks leading up to starting rehab. You told me you “got upset” the night Greg picked you up - but Jen told me you were actually off your face, to the point they thought you were having a panic attack or a psychotic break and they phoned a doctor to work out what to do with you. Then you told me the iPad was free but actually, your dad gave you money to pay for it. (Did you seriously think an iPad was something you needed? Is it something you fucking deserve at this point? Did you think that was a responsible purchase to make days after you’d just quit your job?) Your decisions are based on your most selfish impulses and urges, like a child. You’re completely removed from reality. As long as you are comfortable, as long as you get what you want, you can justify and validate your shitty behaviour all you want.
On the sixth of September, you wrote me yet another email apology. It was masterful. It was perfect. It was exactly what I needed to hear. But then, days later, you took your stupid cough mixture again. How can you promise me change and then, days later, just go ahead and do it again? What am I supposed to do now?
Maybe the only time you have been really honest with me is when you’ve been off your face, and then you’ve been an abusive, misogynistic bully. It’s no coincidence that I am your target of choice once your inhibitions are dulled and you start to communicate honestly. How dare I have any expectations of you, ever? How dare I want something as extraordinary as an equal partner in life? How dare I ever criticise you?
I can’t teach you how to be a grown up. I can’t facilitate your ability to function in the world. Even if you learned basic skills like how to register the car, how to make a doctor’s appointment, how to remember when the tax forms are due, you are never ‘motivated’ to do those boring, mundane things. Those are for mere mortals; you exist on a higher plane. Someone else, someone lesser, will tidy up your messes and pay your fines and sort out your crap. You really think you deserve it. It’s so convenient that you’re always too anxious, too stressed, too upset, to behave like a sensible, responsible grown up.
You keep telling me that ‘deep down’ you’re a good man, well, what good is that? Why would I want a partner whose ‘goodness’ is buried under layers of selfishness, immaturity, and deception?
Last week you said you didn’t think we would be able to repair our relationship. You were preparing me for the fact that that you think this attempt at rehab is going to fail. You would rather trash our family than commit to changing your behaviour. That’s what you have to change. Not your job, not your circumstances, YOURSELF - the way you respond to life.
Me and DD are going to have a terrific life, and I won’t have you on the outside looking in, being a drain on our emotional reserves instead of a resource. You can get yourself better and be a proper part of this family, or you can rack off.
By all means, change jobs. If you remember, I’ve encouraged you to do that several times over the last few years. I was the one who told you to quit the Mackillop job that was stressing you out so much, remember that? But whatever job you have, you will find or engineer an aspect of it to stress you out again, and eventually the wheels will fall off again. Blaming your job, blaming the stress of teaching, I know that this is just a smokescreen, a distraction. I’m sure that right now, going down a new path is making you feel better; you feel like you’re taking charge, making a change. But it won’t work. Or it won’t work for long. Because you will still be you, and your patterns run deep.
You stopped seeing x psychologist before the real work had started. You copped out because you felt judged by her, or it all got too scary, or your male pride got damaged by showing her your vulnerability, or some other bullshit excuse. You should ring her up and ask her what to do next. She’s the one who properly understands what’s going on with you and that scares the hell out of you. Well, stop being a coward and let her tell you.
Don't know if I will send this, but it helped to write it down.
You are a strong woman. You and your DD have a bright future. You are doing the right thing.
You are just telling the truth and prioritising your daughter. You do right. Go and have that amazing life, you totally deserve it.
OP I know what you are going through. Well done for finding the strength to walk away. I hope it stays that way. You are doing the right thing for you and your DD. I'm sorry you are going through this.
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