Not at the beginning. That was too long ago. Back when there was innocence. And freedom.
So I'll start in the now. I am sharing myself here because I need to air my dirty laundry somewhere. And I can't do it at home. I have 300 friends on facebook, all of whom I know in real life, and yet I'm so alone. I know everyone, and everyone knows me. But they don't know that I suffer behind closed doors. They don't know I'm in pain. They don't know that I am angry and sad and disappointed and lost.
My husband is an alcoholic. There. I said it out loud. Probably for the first time. He is ill and he won't do a damn thing about it and he is taking me and my children down with him. And he doesn't see it. Or he pretends he doesn't see it. I don't know anymore.
But I do know that I am tired. So very, very tired. Tired of the lies. Tired of the broken promises. Tired of the fighting and the covering up and the fear. Fear of the future. I used to have hopes and dreams, but now I am just afraid of what the future holds. Will he lose his job (again)? Will we lose the house? Will he crash the car? Will he hurt one of the children? How am I going to survive this? Who am I going to become because of this? I don't want to be a bitter old woman.
I am tired of trying to hold this family together on my own. He's not my partner, he's another body that I have to take care of. I feel like I'm taking care of everything. I'm holding on for dear life to every piece I can. And that means I'm not actually living. Everything is on hold. All my energy is spent on just surviving. One. More. Day.
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