My husband is an alcoholic. I unaware of when it became that bad. He had his first drink at 6 years old. My husband is in rehab and doing well.
This is the letter that I have to read at therapy, it's to tell DH how bad he has hurt me. I decided to share with you all, in hopes it'll be easier to read out loud when the day comes. I feel if I share it with others now it might be easier to read later. There was so much I wanted to say about how his treatment is helping us and what I choose to do after this, but thats another day. One step at a time. I've been handling him like glass since he went in, worry about breaking him into giving up. It's so hard to say this very hard emotional stuff.
How you hurt me.
I’m putting these all in general groups on how you hurt me, I could go on for days if I were to mention all the things individually.
You would put me down, you have called me a lot of nasty things. I heard those things so often they started to become a part of me. I felt like a worthless, stupid, lazy bitch. When something would go wrong you blamed it on me and said it was my fault you did what you did and became an alcohol and drug user. You said you needed it to deal with how dumb I was. Still I loved you so much, so I would to make it better, help you out, or do it your way. But it always ended up never good enough for you, or you’d find more things to add to your list to harass me about. I would feel like a failure for not making you happy or keeping the peace. I tried so hard to help you, but I never realized that I in turn was enabling it and that you had to want to help yourself. Many nights I cried myself to sleep, as things got worse, I was losing my self respect and self esteem. I would fall into a deep depression, feeling that death might be my only way out.
You made me feel used and sometimes dirty. You made me do many things I didn’t want to do, or things I was uncomfortable with. After awhile you became controlling, I got scared to live my life the way I felt was necessary. I was not allowed to have fun. You made me quit the things I liked. I even lost some good friendships because of you. The few thing I did fight for, you used against me, just to hurt me and to make you look like the good guy. You stole from me, our children, and our home. You took away my career, my pride, my hopes, my dreams, my self-worth, and my happiness in life. We lost so much because of the drinking, drugs, and gambling. I’m not proud of the things I had to do to friends and family to defend you. I had to lie for you, and sometimes I even took the blame for what you had done. You turned me into someone I never wanted to become. You hurt me in ways unimaginable to most.
I felt like you used me for sex, support and money. You always said you loved me and things would change, but they never did. Sometimes I wonder if you actually loved the idea of us and a relationship but not actually loved me. Somehow you lured me into taking you back each time you messed up. You had a deceiving manipulative way around things.
It came to the point where you were lying to me, even about stupid little stuff that wouldn‘t have mattered much. Many times I caught you in that lie and you’d get angry. If you knew I was right, you’d blow because you always had to be the one who was right no matter what the cost. You would throw things, break things, verbally, mentally, emotionally, and a few times physically abuse me. So many times I would let the lies and behavior slide as not to cause a fight with you.
It would hurt me when you’d go out with others, spend more time with your friends than with your family. You developed close emotional relationships with others, and let our relationship suffer. You would brag about the good looking people and threaten that they were better than me, and you could have them anytime you wanted. Sometimes you would tell me about some of the things you would do but expect that I would never take offence or get upset about it. I never knew how to react with you around, in fears you would freak out. You accused me of doing things I did not do, turning it into something nasty. Many times I could not distinguish if you were joking or serious. I sometimes worry that you did the things you wrongly accused me of.
So many nights I would worry myself physically ill on what you were doing and if you were OK or not. I worried about innocent families you could have hurt or killed when you drove drunk. I worried that the cops would come and take you away. With every ambulance that drove by I would wonder if you were in it. I waited by the phone for a call from you that I never got. I wondered when the day would come that I would have to identify you body at the morgue.