Transformation

My significant other (it's difficult to refer to him as husband, although we are married, since he has been emotionally and mentally absent from our marriage for roughly 3 years) has given up the drink. Yes, it was alcohol that made him into an utter ass of the grandest kind for three fourths of our marriage and one third of our relationship. And it was alcohol itself that made him sober. You see, his body actually rejected alcohol, making him quite physically ill. On doctor's orders and his unwillingness to throw up 6-8 times a day, he quit drinking. Almost overnight his gregariousness returned and his surliness subsided. He began telling me he loved me on at the very least a daily basis...words I had heard infrequently and for an entire year not at all, not once. He began rising early, making breakfast, feeding and caring for the pets and looking after our home. Previously, he crawled out of bed hungover in the late afternoon, to shower and go to work and drink until late into the night. Now, more often than not, he is home before 9pm...a phenomenon that surprises me still...as previously he rarely, if ever returned before 1am and for a five month period never came home before 7am - usually still drunk or on something harder. And finally, he has begun painting again...something he could not live without before and gave up almost entirely while drunk for three years.

You may think to yourself how great it is that this man has found his way...that he is on the path to recovery. And truthfully, there is a great part of me that remembers this person from before, missed him and is glad to see him again. I am happy that he is no longer killing himself. But, and it is here that I reveal a rather dark side of myself, I am actually quite angry. It feels selfish and mean to be angry with him - especially since he has spent the last month being the utmost of nice and sweet and kind. There is a part of me who thinks about how easy it would be to forget the last three years and slide comfortably back into this partnership with this man I remember - and there have been times in these last four weeks where I have felt quite comfortable with him, enjoyed him even. But despite this transformation in his personality and behavior, I find myself running up against the wall of my anger, my distrust and my weariness. Why am I angry? What am I angry about?

I am angry because he didn't give up drinking because he loved me or cared about us and our future - he quit because his body literally rejected alcohol. Radical, but hardly romantic and loving.

I am angry because while I struggle with sleep deprivation, 60 hour work weeks and a body that gets fatter everyday, he has in one month gained 20 pounds of muscle, looks great, is sleeping well, eating right and has plenty of time to paint every day.

I am angry because we don't talk about the last three years and while he seems to be starting a whole new way of life, I am having a hard time forgetting the crap and hell I went through for three years with no acknowledgement, no apology and no recourse - am I supposed to just roll over, smile pretty and forget it all happened?

I am angry because I want very much to remain detached and aloof and focus on myself - work hard, exercise, get out of debt. But I find him invading my space, my rhythm and my life. I had become quite comfortable not interacting with him. And not getting involved with his dramas. I had settled into a rhythm that was actually working for me. And now I am all fucked up again.

I am angry because I want so much to be supportive and happy for him - and I feel a ton of resentment instead. Makes me feel shallow and small and mean.

I am angry because I feel as if I have to sensor what I say - edit derrogatory comments about past behaviour or drunk friends - because he doesn't want to hear about it. But I need to talk about it, make him understand.

I am angry because I am afraid that he will never understand.

I am angry because I was ready to leave him, move on with my life and now I feel like I am expected to stay and give it another go.

I am angry because I expect myself to be generous and give him credit for trying hard and for being really nice now and for making up in actions for what we don't talk about in words.

I am angry because I fear that this wonderful person he has returned to being will suck me in and make me happy again only to abandon me and leave me in a battered heap because the allure of drinking is too great.

I am angry because I fear that I will never actually know and trust myself again or anyone else.

I am angry with myself because I didn't leave. And now I am in this place, tied together, but disconnected; partnered, but seperate; loving, but without love...

So, I take one day at a time. I am guarded. I wait.