Day before Thanksgiving

Today seems to be a better day to talk. It seems calmer and I guess he is feeling ok with the situation as it stands. What he said was, "I'm all for it." I wasn't sure how to take that, but I guess there's no point in getting my feelings hurt. He wants to make sure that we can be good to the kids. I told him I am willing to share custody. And I am. So long as he stays clean- and is healthy. I would not mind sharing the time so long as they kids can stay in a local school. I think they are young enough, they can adapt to that. I don't want to take the kids away from him. He loves the boys. There is no doubt about that. He has done the best that he can to take care of them. He has stayed home and watched them while I went to work. He bitched about it- but he did it. It's not about the boys. It's about me. I want more from a marriage. This is not a marriage, this is insanity. I know that.
And I also know that this is NOT my fault. I know that I could not save him from this disease. It's not my job. It does not have my name on it. I know that. It's selfish and ego-driven for me to take that on. I didn't cause it, can't change it, can't cure it. He has told me the same. Nothing I could have done differently would have made him less of an addict. It is what it is and I can't change that.
I have a pamphlet on Detachment. Detachment allows us to let go of our obsession with another's behavior and begin to lead happier and more manageable lives, lives with dignity and rights, lives guided by a Power greater than myself. Pastor Ed says that your higher power is whatever you spend the most time thinking about. That's scary. I will never let Michael be my higher power again. I ask myself that many times each week, "Who's your higher power today, Julie?" And I have to keep that perspective straight. Michael, nor his disease is my higher power. It doesn't drive my every thought. Or at least it shouldn't. I know that for a long time it did.
For a long time, my every thought was how to get him to act the way I wanted him to. How to get him to be what I wanted. And I have been told to forgive him for not living up to my expectations. I tried. I guess in a way I have. But forgiveness for it, does not mean resignation to it. Just because I forgive him for his disease does not mean that I am choosing to live with it. I'm listening to the soundtrack from Rent. I love this song, Seasons of Love. It makes me want to cry. "How do you measure a year in the life? How about love...." It makes me want to cry, because, where does it leave me? a year ahead, or a year behind. Two years really. Two years ago, Thanksgiving. Things had not been good for us- but it all came crashing down. Hard and fast, and it still has not stopped. Until, maybe now...