Dear someone

Dear addict,

You have been home from rehab for 2 weeks tomorrow. I am not supposed to keep track of your recovery but I have an innate tally that has become instinctive over the last 3 years you've been plummeting out of control. You have gone to 2-3 meetings, 1 aftercare meeting, had 0 drinks and smoked weed approximately 29 times, played basketball once (on Mother's day. For 8 hours...), gone fishing once (today, for 10 hours), promised not to miss the kids' bedtime (today, you missed it by an hour)...

Technically that is not true. You were HERE but had other priorities. You came home, snuck in through the garden gate and smoked pot for an hour while I bathed our kids. Helped their fumbling, chubby little fingers brush their teeth and pull on pajamas. While I read them 3 stories more than I promised I would because "will this help? will they remember these moments more than the fighting or the smell or the anger or the hurt?" While I kissed their sweet foreheads for the 100th time today and squeezed them just that one notch too tight that makes them giggle. While I rocked our youngest to sleep, rubbed his back, breathed in his velvetty, dimpled, milky skin. While I silently apologized for bringing them into this situation, and hoped I could be enough to teach them, guide them, love them, respect them, discipline them, support them...

While my heart was breaking again, you were smoking pot in the back yard. I saw the car was home, had been home for a long time and when you walked through the door and brought in a putrid cloud of pot with you my stomach turned and all I felt was rage. Seething rage. I'm not supposed to keep track of your "recovery" and I'm supposed to take care of myself and let you live without judgement. Myself is feeling like throwing in the towel these days...

I called another couples therapist today for a grand total of 5 in the last 2 weeks and have still not heard back from a single one. Small-town living? I miss my big city we moved from to give you "space" and "clarity." Yet another promise unkept. I guess I should add that to my running tally...

I miss writing, and so far, this has helped calm my rage. The beast is quiet for now. Leaving a message for a family attorney helped too.

Final tally: 1 marriage precariously in place.

-Lex