I get it if you relapse. I do. That’s why when she did finally tell me that she’d drank today after I had to drag it out of her, I kept my voice really low, I kept calm, I did exactly what I was supposed to do.
She wanted to talk to me about it. But what that means is that she really wanted to tell me that she doesn’t believe she’s an alcoholic, just that she was using it to cope before. Told me she’d had half a tall-boy. Her favorite lie. Told me that it’s in the trash outside.
I did my best to just mull it over. Not let it get to me. I focused on some work for a while but hear AirPods kept getting louder, she was ignoring the kids, she was now dancing all over. It didn’t feel right. After I put Miles to bed I walked in the kitchen just in time to see her putting an entirely different tall-boy than what she told me behind the coffee maker.
I yelled something like “please, tell me some more lies.” She tried to act dumb about it so I grabbed the can and threw it in the sink. To remove myself I turned off my phone, took off my watch, and left the house. Had to drive and get away for a bit. When I got back I had this text waiting for me.
Every single time she’s in the absolute wrong it’s still somehow about how much she does for us.
I hope tomorrow she wakes up with a new attitude about it because right now she’s passed out on the couch while I manage the little ones. Again.
Just so done. I’m so sick of the lies. She can’t ever take responsibility for herself and the issues she causes. I’m also scared. What if we split. We have like nothing right now between us.