My new year is starting off with a bang, that's for sure. As most of you know, I've split from my husband. I am still young enough, and lucky enough, to be able to move in with my parents (again) while I pay off some debt and sort out my life. While my husband is crashing with a friend (and literally crashing, since he lost his job) I'm once again out in the boonies. Except this time, I have a job across a toll bridge and gas prices have probably permanently gone up at least a buck a gallon.
The sad thing is, is how it all happened like it did. I was dealing with a lot of crap and after 3 years of promises, I couldn't take it anymore. But, I couldn't just up and leave, because we were on a lease that neither one of us could afford to pay on our own. So, I stayed. And I contemplated whether or not this man would ever change. Whether or not it was worth staying in the comfort of what I knew and what we could afford, verses starting all over. I'm not making a ton, as you can see from the fact that I'm living with my family, and being able to afford things has always been high on my priority list. For the longest time I chose comfort and stability over leaving. But as things degraded further, and the end of the 1-year lease grew nearer, I had made my decision. A few things had happened in a short span of time that pushed me to my decision. The lying, the hiding and everything else. I had lived for those moments of "oh my god, he did something that made me happy", which seemed so few and far between.
When I finally reached the breaking point and decided that he could move into the new apartment on his own (this was back when I'd thought "well, maybe I can still make it work". We'd had to move out of this place anyway because we were barely scraping by), he lost his job. It hadn't been a surprise. We both knew it was bound to happen. So even that plan fell apart. Now, my husband of almost 6 years, known for 8 years, had no job. What was I going to do? He was spiraling down and I just couldn't be dragged with him. I had to go through with my decision and stick to my guns. As much as it hurt, and god dammit it hurt like hell, I just couldn't do it anymore. I tried to help him as much as I could. You could call me controlling, sure. I paid the bills, I dealt with the budget, and I yelled at him whenever he crossed the line. This marriage was by no means perfect, and I'll be the first to admit that I partially was the reason it fell apart. Some of my worst features are my need to be right and stewing in anger for much longer than necessary. But I could also say that his faults were no better, and it led to some disastrous fights that slowly escalated over time as our marriage degraded.
My wish for the new year is all about him. I want him to get better. I'm hoping that he can find a job that he truly enjoys, and I'm hoping that he realizes that drinking only hurts him. Turning to alcohol in times of sadness or boredom is one of the main reasons our marriage fell apart. I'm hoping that he can turn his life around. He'll just have to do it without me.