send off

I have to go out of the country on a business trip for at least the next week. As I mentioned the job is crazy busy and probably not what I should have chosen, but I have to see it through for now.

Probably goes without saying that this makes me nervous and guilty and all manner of uncomfortable. Made no better by tonight’s sendoff. You had that dinner with the work crew that I was to attend. I was supposed to do kid pick up but there was a crisis at work and you were kind enough to take care of that and I was able to meet you at the restaurant. Of course you were already a couple beers in and directing around the table to make sure everyone got more. And it droven home the fact that the staff knows you by name from the many evenings there… You also stepped out to smoke and apologized for that.

Anyway at home you went ahead and polished off another bottle of wine and apologized again for the smoking. Funny that you see that as a problem but not the slow speech and glassy eyed stare that I can’t stand. Still, I made nice and let it pass by. Now’s not the time. I just hope you’re able to cope while I’m gone.

To everyone else: I probably won’t be posting ’til I get back. Take care.

awkward

Well it’s been an awkward weekend. You’re still mad at me. It’s all my fault. I apologized — as usual, but it had little effect. I didn’t really feel that I owed you one but I swallowed my ego and did it to make peace. There was no return apology. Earlier, before I made the comment that really pissed you off I also said, “I don’t like making you mad.” You said, “I don’t like it when you make me mad either.” You were joking but that’s really the way it is isn’t it?

This will be a stressful week so I’m sure it’ll be boat loads of fun. When I wrote that last post you were out at the store with the younger and when you came home I helped you unload the groceries. I think you were annoyed that I saw the six pack of wine bottles in your trunk. You might have been planning to stash them somewhere rather than stocking them.

not exactly progress

I’ve been working a lot of late hours and leaving the burden on you. For a while there I think the responsibility actually made you more focused and helped. Or maybe I was just hoping that was the case. For whatever reason it was a spell of dry or mostly dry days and that was good in my opinion.

Thursday night I came home late and the soda on the nightstand prickled my nose. I know that’s never a good trend. Friday night was supposed to be your night out with your friends. Contrary to what you might think, I try to make time for this because you should get to have a social life. I don’t really have one but that’s by choice. I never did. But it’s important to you. Problem is that work had another demand of me. We talked by text and you agreed to cut your night short and come home early.

I left to do the first part of what I needed to do for work — which involved a long drive — leaving our older daughter in charge for what I thought would be a few minutes until you got home. She’s perfectly capable and responsible so I wasn’t worried about that. But I texted you a bit later to ask if all was ok. No response. I finished my work errand and called home. I found out that you were not home yet and the time you gave our daughter was about when I called. In other words you were slightly overdue.

I called work, told them I’d completed the errand, but wouldn’t come in, and came home. I texted and let you know that I was home and you should stay.

That’s when the bizareness began. First it was some odd text messages then later an argument by text. Your friends dropped your car off and you got dropped off much later.

This morning you were mad at me for coming home because you were about to leave. You were mad that I thought you ‘unreliable’. Later I said that I felt I’d let my team down by not being there. That’s when you really got mad. I said that I was hoping we’d talk but the wall was up. You were mad that I hadn’t given you every chance to confirm you’d be there. And you’re right. I didn’t call like I should have, but the ugly truth is that when there’s drinking involved you are unreliable and I almost expected you not to follow through.

So what do I say now. Do I let it all drop, let you be mad at me for a while, and then curtailing your social life to ‘please’ me? Or do I continue the argument and say that it’s not being out that was the problem, it’s that my trust is broken?

One thing I know. I’ll be having a talk with management and telling them that I have personal situation which limits my reliability in evenings and weekends. They deserve to have that expectation. And I’ll ask that over time I be given assignments compatible with that. Career limiting, yes, but not as much as not following through.

long time no blog

I kind of fell off the face of the earth there. There were multiple reasons for that but the main one is that I have changed jobs (same company) and the new one is very demanding. I got brought in to help clean up a mess essentially so I’ve been burning the midnight oil.

On the home front, things are much the same. Good days and bad days both. There have not been any good blow ups but there have been a few nights of staggering to bed at 4am after being unplugged and self-absorbed. Tonight is turning into another of these. I hear the cork of the second bottle as I write this at a quarter to midnight.

And on we go…

day 4

I’m probably going to stop with the daily posts on the diet because it makes for dull reading. But I am going to try and continue ‘the plan’ and get in better shape, checking back in here periodically. Having to admit my progress publically, albeit anonymously, is actually good. Back up to 207 this morning according to the scale, which is depressing because I ate very well yesterday and even took a lunch time walk. Have to work back up to jogging. But that’s what happens. It takes a couple weeks for results to start to show.

Last night she was supermom, cooking an excellent dinner and cleaning, and we even got to spend some time sitting on the couch together. It was very nice. Thing is that I don’t need or want the supermom part of that. I just want us to muddle through the chores, go to work, and raise the kids. I admit it, I’m dull.

day 3

206.0 this morning. But don’t get too excited I tell myself. First few days are easy. After about a week I plateau. Unfortunately I know this from trying before.

Good day at home last night. Not, unfettered by smoking or drinking, but good.

let’s talk

This is a post that has been in drafts for a long time because it’s been hard to write. Not so much emotionally, I mean it’s just been hard to make myself clear. Primarily because while I aim for this blog to be the truth it is not, by unfortunate necessity, the whole truth. I’ve been coy about some details in case this were ever traced back to us.

I’m not sure that we have ever really talked about the fact that I see your drinking as a problem. I have tried to bring it up but you have always batted me away or turned the accusation back on me. I now realize after reading other’s experiences that this is common. And something I should have been prepared for.

There was that one big incident. I don’t honestly recall what I said that one night you’d been drinking but I recall that I was angry. I never was blunt about why. I’m sure it would have been unproductive at that exact moment anyway. But I resolved to find some help. I spent the next day researching local therapists, talked to a couple on the phone, and then set up an appointment. I told you that I was doing this, but I did not tell you what I wanted from her.

When I got to the appointment I tried to summarize the situation. I told her about you, me, our family, and the fact that I thought there was a problem. And I said that I had come to realization that the clinical diagnosis was unimportant. I thought you had a problem with alcohol and I was treating you as such. And that in and of itself was enough. I told her that I needed to talk to you about it and that I needed her to help me find a productive way to start that conversation.

At this moment I was feeling pretty good. I thought I was on a path to some resolution. I thought I had a good middle ground. I wasn’t asking her to solve this. I wasn’t asking her to intercede. I just wanted her to coach me a bit, and to be the sounding board that maybe a really good friend should be — if I had one I thought I could trust with this. She gave me some tips, told me she was going to check in to a few things, and would call me back. I figured I’d see her regularly.

A few nights later on a Friday the therapist called me. As it happens our daughter was at a sleepover and you were out late drinking with friends. I was home with the little one. She… well this is where I have to be coy. Suffice it to say that she took some action that I didn’t want.

This left me in a really awful position. I put the little one to bed eventually and stayed up pretty much the whole night. You took a cab home late and went right to sleep. The next morning, before everyone was up, I had no choice but to tell you about what I’d told the therapist and what she had done. Boy were you angry, and I can understand that. You understandably felt betrayed and frankly so did I. I had made a decision to trust a professional and in my view she violated that. I told you as much.

Needless to say things were cold for a while, but they didn’t end there. Weeks later you accused me of being untrustworthy and trying to sabotage us. Saying that you couldn’t trust me really hurt. This attempt of mine to find a better path had the worst possible outcome. It drove a wedge between us and drove you to be much more secretive about drinking. This is when the hiding of bottles and funny-colored-soda started.

And for a long time I clammed up and decided to just deal with it. That didn’t work either and just resulted in more anger and frustration being directed inward. Then I started the blog. I think it’s been good for me. I hope to hell it does not turn out to be just as big a mistake.

day 2

I didn’t do all that great on diet yesterday. Not horrible, but not good either. We’ll call it a draw. Still, this morning the scale error gives me 207.5.

Hard night with the younger one last night who didn’t want to go to bed until really, really late. Hard on both of us today. That’s just life.

But yesterday also marked the return of the funny colored soda. I think this is because of a comment I made on Sunday, which was actually meant to be conversational, but apparently sounded like an accusation. I know where this leads.

taking charge of myself

I think one thing I have realized reading other’s stories is that I really do need to figure out how to take care of myself in all this. That’s been hard, partly as a matter of motivation, partly as a matter of logistics. I’m currently not getting enough sleep or exercise, nor am I eating well. I find it most effective to control all three of these together because one bolsters the other, but…

Sleep: There aren’t enough hours in the day to get it all done. Work is demanding and there are always household chores to do, even when she’s on the wagon. More when I have to take up the slack.

Exercise: I used to take the dog for long walks just as a way to get out of the house when it was bad. Irony, that. But now with the small child I can’t. I can’t count on being able to leave him home with her, and he’s at an inconvenient age to go with me. Maybe later.

So, I’m going to start with diet. And I’m going to do a bit of public accountability by posting my progress here whether you all care or not. Day 1: 208.5 lbs according to my bathroom scale which, like all such good scales, lies in my favor. But we’ll use that as a benchmark anyway. To give you an idea, before the baby and when I was exercising I was 175 and pretty happy with it. I’m going to see how far I can get with just controlling what I eat. Wish me luck. (note the new tags to track my progress).

On the other topic, things have been good. I don’t know why, but I’m happy for it and still nervous as a cat waiting for the other shoe to drop. There has been drinking but she’s kept it under control. This makes me nervous because I know how quickly it slides sometimes, but for now it’s good.

mixed days

Another mixed set of days. Saturday night I suggested you go spend time with our daughter while I took the younger kid. You did and that and I was really happy that the two of you got to spend time together at your mutual computer game hobby. Then… the booze came out.

What was going to be late turned into really, really late. So I took the little guy and slept with him in his room where it’s easier for me to keep him mollified. At 5am you came in and were pissed at me that I wasn’t going to move him. So be it.

Sunday was average but dry. Monday, the first day back at work for us you returned to some stress. You let that out by having a few cigarettes. You apologized for it before coming home. Thing is, I was actually really happy with this. Because it’s the better of the two vices I believe. You don’t act different. I don’t know if you didn’t drink because there was no opportunity or because you refrained. I’d like to think the later.