This has been a challenging week. Along with Covid – I was forced to make a very difficult decision.
In one hand, Mike held a bottle. In the other – his family, his job, his friendships, his health, his sanity…and me. Mike chose the bottle. And I knew I had to leave.
This is not the first time. By accepting this behaviour in the past – I had condoned it. Time and again, I offered him a safe place to fall. I set boundaries and allowed him to cross them. I made promises to myself that I broke. I enabled him without ever letting him hit rock bottom. I was hanging on to what could be – instead of seeing what was.
I thought showering him with unconditional love and acceptance could make him whole again. I thought giving him a glimpse of joy in our connection could bring him peace. I thought loving me with all his heart and feeling safe for the first time would heal his trauma. I thought that I would be enough.
