Wednesday, January 13, 2010
I have been thinking about my birthday, which is in a few weeks. I will be turning 35. My husband mentioned that he and the kids would like to take me out to dinner for my birthday. I said I wasn't sure because it seems like we only fight now when we spend time together and I didn't want to spend my birthday fighting.
I was thinking back to his 37th birthday, the year after he relapsed. We were separated but had decided to go to dinner as a family.
During dinner, my son asked in his little 5-year-old voice, Daddy, why are you an alcoholic?
There was a long awkward pause. My husband's face looked crushed. I can't remember what we said but I remember it did not seem adequate.
I remember my husband later telling me that he cried on the way home.
I thought of all this and felt extremely sad. I don't know if he chose to relapse. I tend to think that because I can't understand taking a drink after years of sobriety. In that moment at least, I know that he felt remorse, which is something I rarely see from him.
I think the hardest thing for me to accept in all of this is that my husband has rarely appeared to be sorry for his actions. And his actions have caused all of us a lot of pain.
People make mistakes. I accept that. But patterns are hard to accept.
I am sad that addiction has taken over his family. I have often thought that he was pretty much destined to be an addict in that family. I also had always hoped things would get better with him. But wishing does not make it so.