My life has completely changed over the last 2 weeks. I left my husband of 1.75 years (together for 4 years prior), got my own place, moved in and then realized that I actually survived the hardest thing that I've ever had to do.
I'm definitely not elated about this, my feelings are polar opposites. I feel sadness for what I've left and what's happened, but at the same time I'm excited for what will happen. My husband (let's call him H) was (is) an alcoholic, and he is also a very angry person. For some reason it took me 6 years to figure this out...I don't know why. When I met him I thought he was so nice, so happy, a really cool person. I think he has those qualities, but they're only the very thin outer layer of his personality. He turned out to be a jealous, entitled, angry and hurtful person.
I don't blame all of it on him. His parents (if you can call them that) were not a positive influence in his life. At least from what he's told me. I have found that he tends to see things and events differently than everyone else. Namely the fact that what happens is never his fault.
I am not perfect, far from it. Never claimed to be. Wasn't when I met him. What I am, though, is a different person than when I met him. I was young, just old enough to drink, and I'd never been in a relationship before. For months, everything was fantastic. Sure, we partied WAY too much, but I had been bartending before I met him, so I was in that life already. Maybe that's why I didn't see him for what he really was. We spent pretty much every waking moment together. I loved it. I loved him. I loved that he loved me, or at least that he made me feel loved.
One day I came home from work, and earlier that morning he had told me to wake him up when I got home, so I tried to wake him up. He was very groggy and difficult to wake. When he finally did get up he freaked the fuck out. Like SERIOUSLY freaked the fuck out. I've never seen anyone that pissed off or out of control in my life. And for no reason at all. At the time, he had a roommate, his best friend. While H was raging and screaming about God knows what, I was in his bedroom, bawling my eyes out, scared and confused. His roommate came back and sat in there with me and basically told me that this is H. It happens and you deal with it, because he's such a good person otherwise.
WHY THE FUCK DID I NOT RUN THEN???!!!!???!!!!
Sorry, had to get that out. That was the beginning of one of the happiest (yes, really) and the hardest, most miserable (yes, that too) periods in my life. If I go into everything there is to go into I won't finish this post until May 14, 2028. What I will say is that H showed me a lot, I experienced so many amazing things that I don't think I would have ever discovered on my own. He also made me grow up, because he does not know the meaning of the word responsibility. Personal responsibility, household responsibilities, any form of the word. I HAD to become more responsible or we would have self-destructed. The one positive to come of this is the person that I have (had to) become because of him. I realized that I would never be able to grow further if I stayed with him. He wouldn't let me. He wanted me to stay in the same place as him, never growing, ignoring any kind of ambition to do anything (except for getting tickets to the next Dead show).
I don't know what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. But I know that now I can do whatever I want to do. And that all I will hear about my dreams and hopes will be supportive (even if it's only coming from me!).
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