An Angel Inside

“Why can’t I just tie one on once in a while?” He can be so cocky. I have been answering this question for over a decade. “Well, maybe once in a while wasn’t several times a week I would sleep better at night.”

“But seriously Caden, your drinking seems excessive now, and you stay up all night. You haven’t been in bed. I worry about you. Your father is mentally ill now. You see what alcohol did to him. Please, I am your wife. I need you to be healthy for me and the kids. You should really tread lightly. You have been going hard for many years.” Nope. Same patterns, strange behaviors, and the same hopeless lies. He’s buying 18-30 packs to drink by himself several times a week.

He knows I need him to cut this shit out. It is really taking a toll on my mental and physical health worrying about his drinking. “Have you tried to communicate your feelings to your husband?” Seriously Lady? I did not come to therapy before step one. I spoke, yelled, begged, cried, wrote, and practically tattooed my feelings on my skin. He knows damn well how I feel. How can he have the audacity to tell me this time will be different? Every time I think about his rehearsed lines; my body starts to tremble. He tells me he has changed, but the only change I ever saw were the colors of his beer cans. He switches them up every few years. Gold, Blue, White, Green. It’s starting to feel like Groundhog Day. Beers all night, tears in the morning, me begging, him defensive and nasty, I get angry and louder, he shames me as a mother, the text war begins, the war fizzles, optimism, peace, sentiment, back rubs, sex, and repeat.

I need to call Robin. She has been in my life since we were giddy young girls wearing matching everything.

“Robin, why do I feel like he chooses the buzz over me?” My voice breaks into a distressful mess, and that mess quickly turns to fury. “I need a damn break from seeing him drink all the time. This feels awful, his father lost everyone because of his drinking. Why is he pushing me away?”

He knows I am one foot out the door. I am withdrawn now. No more sex. I can’t stand the thought of him touching me after his last childish text tactics. Sometimes he just texts me the same one word over and over again. I wish I didn’t let him bother me, but he gets to my core. I am beyond hurt. I am livid. I feel rejected. It’s like he sucked out my soul. He doesn’t know how to handle me withdrawing so he gets even nastier and irrational some days. “I will go against everything you say just to make your life more difficult now.” As if my ongoing worrying about his never-ending shitty choices hasn’t made my life difficult enough. And who says that?!

“Narcissists say that, Marie. He isn’t changing, you are.”

We got into a huge fight the other day. Who really knows you?, I asked him. You lie, steal, and possibly cheat. You hide from me, shame me, and blame when I look to you for answers. What is really going on? Why do you bury yourself so often? Why don’t you care more about your health, for us - we need you? I see you are smoking again. Please talk to me. All I get in response week after week year after year is “You are over-reacting. I changed. I do not drink that much. Do you want me to stop drinking at home? You are ridiculous. The kids only know because you keep feeding them your shit. You are crazy. You are ruining this family. You are ruining my life. You are a horrible mom. You are a horrible human being for what you did to our children. Shame on you.”

I have so many vivid memories of him in an ugly state of intoxication. I sound so pathetic and I resent him every time I see a beer in his hand now. If he tries to be a “changed man” for too long, his eyes get darker. That’s when I know he is going to “tie one on.” It’s like there’s a monster inside that eats him alive at night. I am pretty sure that monster is his father. He has wanted nothing more than his father’s love. I am never going to be able to give that to him. I feel like I have become his punching bag. I love him and he has a beautiful soul inside that I fell in love with. But, I can’t live in a constant state of worrying when he is going to go off the deep end like his dad did. And I certainly can not live being called names instead of coming up with productive and meaningful solutions.

“He needs to rip off the Band-Aid already. It sounds like he has a lot of trauma he needs to work on. Only he can do that though, you know this. I have an idea, Marie. I printed out a blessing. I want you to go get some sage and crystals. Go to my favorite place in the village. It’s called Wanda’s Gifts. I must warn you though, it is a magical place. I need you to keep an open mind and you will figure it out. After this, the next steps will be life-changing.”

Ok Robin, but how do I know what crystals to buy? Hello? Hello?

Well Wanda’s Gifts it is. I heard people sage their homes to get out the bad juju. I’ll look it up. Oh of course, it is some sort of metaphysical place. What did she mean by next steps? I have a strange feeling about this place and I am not sure what it is. I can’t tell if anyone is in there. I hope I don’t have to strike up a conversation, this place seems mystical, yet creepy. Ugh Robin…This isn’t what I signed up for.

I can’t even make this up. I need to call Robin immediately. Something big is going to happen. I know what the next steps are, I think I met an angel inside.