I’m the unwanted wife of an addict, at one time I was the wanted wife, but that seems a life time ago.  Life became a battle to untangle myself from the destruction it did.  It changed what should have been. It took what could have been.

On October 19, 2016, in an altered state, I was a victim of domestic abuse at his hands.

His drug of choice is “spice” – synthetic marijuana.  I’m also a child of an alcoholic.  These are my battle scars, hauntings of childhood and loss of someone that I still fiercely love and deeply love.

As any adult child will tell you, normal is a world we guess at.  We want it, even if we don’t have the faintest idea of what it looks like.  We never stop trying.

These are my greatest weakness.

I survived my childhood.  I married a wonderful man, smart, kind, and gentle. I married my childhood friend.

I am also a Mom and I’m raising 3 kick ass kids, who amaze me every day.  To them I’m boring, I hide vegetables in cake, I flat out lie and say there is not cauliflower in the mash potatoes.  They are on to me 😉

They are pretty boring kids too, I’ve done the parenting gig right… for the most part.  Good grades, well adjusted, kind, hate each other but love each other deeply.  They are children, the simplest gift I could give them was their childhood.

We were a family of 5, plus a dog.  He was in recovery until he wasn’t.  On October 19th, 2017, while drunk (he denies drugs, but he is also an addict) and he decompressed to the point of violence.  He tried to push me out a 2nd story window.  I can’t thank him enough for my children having to read that in the paper, their friends knowing, my friends knowing that day.

I have lived afraid in a way I never wanted to.

Bail of $250k didn’t deter him from seeking out his drug of choice, no more than the toll it took on the broken humans he left behind.  He now bounces out of shelters, transitional housing units, jail, psychiatric hospitals because spice makes him psychotic, which in him makes the wonderful, gentle human he was, something of his past instead.

Meanwhile, I’m learning the fine art of leaving an addict.  Extra fun when you’re an ACOA!  I’m learning to hold space for him and to live for me.

None of it is easy.  No one said it would be.  I’m learning a new life, I want my scars to be lessons for good.  I loved a good man, who is probably still just as good.

I’m not broken, I’m altered.  Loving an addict, is brutal.  Loving yourself enough to let them have their addiction, is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

Those of us on this side, we are worth it.

I’m worth it.


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