This is day 3 of my sobriety. **** and I had a falling out. Actually, I had a mental breakdown and went into a rage friday night. I was washing the dishes and he was eating left over pasta on the couch. I looked over at him as he tried minding his business and trying his best not to glance over at me. I continued to glare. How dare he eat my food. How dare he sit on my couch. How dare he be under my roof. I started to verbally abuse him. When I felt it wasn't enough I took the steak knife I was washing, the same dull knife I used to scratch my wrists, and held it up to his throat. He was provoking me. I let a little bit of logic flood my brain for a split second and threw down the knife. I was seeing red. I started throwing my fists at his head. His skull left my knuckles aching. My knuckles left bumps on his head. My fingernails were bent backward and my nose ring was pulled out half way. Why does he continue to let me use him as a punching bag? What kind of woman hits a man?
He left the apartment and went downstairs to talk to the neighbor. I had enough. This was the last straw. This was it. I called my mother. I started crying as I told her what had just happened. I told her I never wanted to see him again. I was instructed to pack my belongings through my tunnel vision and stay on the phone with her as she and my father were on their way to rescue me. What they didn't know was that I needed to be rescued from myself.
His parting words to my father and me was, "My dad and I will see you two in court." I wasn't threatened. That isn't his nature. Sitting in the passenger seat, I felt relieved to know that I no longer had a chance to do further damage to him or myself. I left the apartment with both dogs and all five Suboxone strips. I wanted him to suffer.
Thinking back to that moment of rage, and the previous times Mr. Hyde came out to play, I am almost certain that it is due to the build up of broken promises **** had made to me these past two years and those I had made to myself, and the lack of will power on both of our parts. We are trying our best to improve our situations. I am staying with my parents and he is back at the apartment trying to find work. I went back on my word by seeing him the next day to give him a strip. As much as I wanted to paint my heart black, my resilience and nurturing nature continued to shine through. We are still speaking to each other regularly and we are making an effort to get clean. We have tried in the past, but our hearts weren't ready. I believe that in order to kick an addiction, you have to feel it in your mind, body and soul. Feeling guilty will not cut it. The feeling of guilt will diminish as soon as the thought of using emerges.
They say that the third time is a charm. I feel that saying is correct. I am taking action in a different manner. Yesterday, my mother and I went to a Christian church. Although I am not religious I enjoyed being in the presence of those who put God first in their lives. During the service, my eyes welled up when certain lyrics were sung and when certain words were said. This is how I knew the pain in my heart started to heal. At the end of the service my mother and I, along with six other people, were given a personal word from the pastor. He compared God and church to the Bowflex commercial. He said as you would give Bowflex six weeks to change your body, you would give God six weeks to change your life. I plan to hold him true to his statement. I am actually looking forward to attending next Sunday's service.
Cleaning up is a difficult process. I am fortunate to have a loving and supportive family by my side and a father who knows how to encourage me to be my best. The second night I spent on their living room couch he had a talk with me. He told me that I needed to open up to the opportunities that are available out in the world. He told me to make the choices and decisions that will shape my future. My father is right. It's now or never to make the change. The time is now to work on defining the character this world needs and deserves.
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