“Why we are still together; a story of procrastination complacency and denial”
The other night, shortly after finishing up the last entry I wrote, I got in a fight with the hubby.
I have mentioned our toxic cycle of addiction, enabling and petty revenge ~ i.e.: he gets drunk, I get mad so I go get fucked up and spend money, he gets even drunker, I spend more money, we fight, I tell him I want a separation, he shuts up and goes to bed. BUT the next day pretends nothing happened.
This has been going on for years now, it’s been especially bad the past four to five years. Short story; he was drunk and wrecked the car. Almost died. I almost left then but didn’t. I can admit now, I haven’t been happy since around that time. When almost dying didn’t even slow down the drinking that’s when I said fuck it and started to be naughty myself. Before that, I had issues with addiction no doubt! I wanted to stop, I wanted rehab and to get my shit together. After that, I said fuck it.
Sami doesn’t do anything halfway!
In retaliation and spite, I started drinking and partying again, all the time. Easy to do as a bartender! I don’t really have one drug of choice anymore, I like all of em! (No pills or heroin though, I wouldn’t be here writing this if I went down that road) As we know, Sami doesn’t do anything half way! I take everything to extremes and was easily sucked back in to the party all night lifestyle!
Well, we see how far that strategy has gotten me! I have wasted the past few years being miserable, pretending everything was fine and doing my best to completely hide from reality. All the while going through some kind of mental breakdown, midlife crisis nonsense and slipping farther and farther into the self-destructive downward spiral that my life is becoming.
When it’s time to call it quits…
The important thing has always been that he was never violent towards me. In our early years of marriage, I was the more physical one! He got punched a few times, but he never retaliated beyond trying to protect himself and restrain me from breaking shit or hurting myself.
Until about two years ago. He flipped and may not have punched me or anything. But he definitely crossed the line between defending himself and going on offense. He tossed my around, put me in a chokehold, slammed me up against the TV, breaking it. As far as beatings go, well it wasn’t that bad. THAT DOES NOT MAKE IT OK! There is absolutely no excuse for violence, ever.
The apologies and tears came after. I forgave the incident, but I never forgot it. I never forgot the way he looked at me. Like he wanted to hurt me. In all the years together, I had never seen that look directed towards me.
We have fought since then of course, but never anything so serious. The other night though, he was pushing me. Not just pushing my buttons either, he was in my face and physically pushing me away. If I had been drinking or even slightly fucked up…
There is no doubt in my mind it would have been a throwdown physical fight if I hadn’t left the house when I did. I saw that look in his eyes again. He wanted to fucking punch me, fuck, he wanted to beat the shit out of me. He has never looked at me with such rage and hatred before, even that time he did put his hands on me.
I may have lost a lot of things in the past years, changed in a lot of ways ~ not all good either. I may have forgotten the person I used to be, forgotten that I used to want more from life, that I never wanted to just “settle” One thing I haven’t forgotten? I am not the kind of fucking girl that sits back and is abused, not by him, not by anyone. He had his one chance, I’m not sticking around to give him another.
Yes, it is going to be hard. It is going to be hard financially, it is going to be hard emotionally, mentally… I am going to be sad, scared, confused… I am going to doubt myself and my decisions. I am going to wish I had never done it. Especially those nights when I will be sleeping alone for the first time in almost fifteen years. I am going to miss him. Miss the companionship, miss the fact I may not ever find someone to grow old with. That we will never be that cute little old couple walking through the park together.
It’s going to be one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.
I can’t let it go. I can’t just pretend everything is ok anymore.
I am not a religious person even if I was raised Catholic. But I pray to whomever might be listening to give me the strength to see this through.
I really, really don’t want to be another name on a list of friends who died too soon, another Facebook statistic…
BuzzedBlogging and Bitching 