I am not going to lead into this with all the explanations, because it only brings me more questions that I don't have answers to. But the bottom line is this- my husband has no idea where he will be living in 2 weeks.
What in the world of FUCK happens now.
I can hear the voices of my well meaning friends, saying, "It's not your problem." "Let him sink." "Let him suffer." And part of me also realizes that they are true and accurate and not BAD advice. However. How do I do that??
This is where my struggle is today. One thing that I admit is that I have always had trouble with boundaries. With Michael, and really with a lot of people. I rarely put my foot down and say, "You can't treat me like this." My reaction is always to figure out why I had it coming and respond accordingly. If I feel I am being treated badly, I have a hard time pointing it out. It's an issue that I have. Perhaps that is the byproduct of being the youngest- having parents that were hot and cold emotionally- absent/dead father figures etc. Who the hell knows?? But somewhere along the lines, I adopted the thought pattern that if someone is treating me bad, I probably did something to deserve it. And besides, I'm strong and I can handle whatever comes my way- right??
So what is coming my way is the fact that I have set a boundary- and have simply been praying that I would not have to follow through with the consequences that I have set up.
I WANT to help him.
I WANT to make sure he is ok.
I WANT him to get better.
I WANT him to live.
But I also know that I can't. I can't help him anymore. It's time for him to grow up and pay some consequesnces. But how do I live with them? My mother is very hesitant to support my decision to throw him out. She went through this similar scenario. She left my dad- he was sick. He died. She felt guilt. Not that she killed him. But that she left him when he was sick. That she didn't help him. That he died alone. A L O N E. He had family too- but in the end, he died in the hospital- without anyone even in the waiting room for him to get out of surgery.
A
L
O
N
E
And she does not want me to have to live with the guilt that she went through. The guilt that I'm sure we kids unknowingly put upon her. And honestly, I don't want to live with that guilt either. I know that I will get past it. I will work through whatever guilty feelings I may have about what transpires over the next months. But I will still have to get past them.
Turning my back on him when it is clearly within my power to help, is something that I simply don't know how to do. I am terrified that he is going to kill himself. That he is going to get sick and die alone. That he is going to go back to drug, drinking, whatever. I am terrified that it truly CAN and will get worse. And all I had to do to stop it was just keep things as they are.
I know- I know. I FUCKING KNOW!! I can't do that. I can't live like this. I can't put my kids through this. It's not fair to them. It's not fair to these little boys to sit back and watch thier father give up. I know that forcing him out is the right thing to do. It's what we all need. And really, it's what I want. But fuck- when has it EVER been about what I want.
With all the resentment I can stand, I have proclaimed for years, "It's all about Michael! Everything is about Michael- I should have it tatooed on my freaking forehead." But you know- it IS. It always has been. It's never been about what I want or what I need. And I know that it's time that I change that. I need to. and I have to. But I know that I can only save one of us. If I let him go, I save myself and I save my kids too. If I continue to protect him, me and the kids drown.
I don't have the right to do that. I don't have the right to choose his life over thiers.
Hmmm.
I guess it's not him or me.
It's him or them.
I think that's a decision I can live with.
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