And that's another one of my authentic flaws - my ability to make EVERYTHING ten times more complicated than it is or has to be.
I read this little gem in my little book of reflections today:
The FSS (former supposed spouse) called last night to tell me he has been approved for the WATCh (Warm springs Addiction Treatment and Change) Program. Again. This will be the second time he's been through it. And he started rattling off all the things that are going to be different this time. Again.
And while I hope that it really will be different this time, I am not holding my breath. The smart money just isn't on that bet. And even if it is different, it will be different without me. In the seven years we were together he has spent almost half that time behind bars and/or fences (with and without razor wire) of one sort or another. And the last three times I've waited - sometimes patiently, sometimes not so much -for him to come home thinking all the while that THIS time it's gonna work. THIS time he's gonna get it. THIS is the LAST time this happens.
And every time he's been gone I have turned myself upside down and inside out trying to figure out what was wrong with ME that made HIM act the way he did. I tied myself up in knots and twisted myself into pretzels trying to make myself over into whatever he needed me to be - all the while not really having a clue what that might be - to a point where I no longer recognize myself.
And I guess maybe I'm a little pissed about that. No. No maybe. I am pissed.
But I'm pissed at MYSELF because - well for a lot of reasons, really - but the big one is this - I KNEW what he was long before we ever got together. His reputation well preceded him and his tales of "daring do" are somewhat legendary in our little town. But, I went there anyway. Actually, I ran there, away from the hell my first marriage had become, but that's a story for another day. Life with an active alcoholic actually seem like a picnic compared to what I was married to.
I'm pissed because I didn't listen to my gut when he got arrested the second time. My gut was telling me to run - run for the hills - but my back bone and my running shoes were nowhere to be found.
I'm pissed because despite the fact that I have tuned upside-in-outside-down and ran in circles trying to be better, stronger, smarter, tougher - deep down inside where the "real me" lives, I don't think I've really changed at all.
And then I was watching "Intervention" on A&E the other night and the counselor said something that clicked a little at the time and has been gnawing at me ever since.
"If you don't change, she won't have to"Well, no wonder. I keep wishing for the happily ever after. He keeps promising one. I keep believing him and keep letting him come home. And sooner or later, the cycle repeats itself.
I told him the other night that maybe I'm the one that's no good for him. He hung up on me. And I think that says it all.