Thursday, November 8, 2007

It's all downhill from here.

I'm having trouble keeping my wishful thinking in line. My thoughts have been edging out into the "If only's" and I keep minimizing the truly poor behavior on Mr. W's part.

I think back to the night in March when I accidentally found his drug stash in the van. I was so stunned to find it, and I was totally unable to process the implications of it being there. All I could do was get out, get away from that little straw and that little baggie wrapped up in tissue paper. He was just confused about why I wanted to wait out in the cold instead of stay there and I never got to tell him how I knew about it. He probably curses me out for being a snoop, when it really was just an accidental find...

Over the next few days, I didn't know what to do. I struggled to come to terms with what I now knew - Mr. W. with all his other OCD problems was also a hard drug user. All the goody-good lessons in life had been that drugs are bad, that they're an abomination...and yet I didn't want to give HIM up. I was so torn up, I really could not come to an answer on my own that made any sense. I had to call a suicide advice line for guidance when I couldn't stop crying over it all.

That call directed me to Nar- Anon. He doesn't even know that I eventually attended a Narcotics Anonymous meeting to try to find an answer. That grim little group meeting of people affected by drugs didn't really work out for me; it was a gathering of women talking about their drug-using sons, husbands and boyfriends/fiancees. I wasn't even able to call Mr. W. any of those titles...

I didn't want to give him up, but all my efforts only bought me what? Five more months of time with him. And he chose to be a stranger in the end. Reading some of his emails to me now show more of that side of his personality... I guess he really never cared.

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