I sit like a voyeur looking tonight at pictures of other peoples families - some friends, some family. I am jealous and angry. I see pictures of the zoo with kids, on the farm climbing trees, celebrating holidays. The captions are simple, relaying the details of what they seem to think are mundane activities. It sincerely makes me want to scream. Why isn't that my life? Well, it is my life, with one exception - it is me and my kids, not their Dad, not my husband. I have snapshots of others for which I am grateful;, my mom, sister, brother, friends & their kids - but it's not the same and I am just as angry for my kids as I am for myself.
Am I placing too much importance on the events in life that we tend to photograph? I know the trap of comparing my insides to someone else's outsides, but these are not grand galas, tropical vacations, and perfect homes of which I am wishing. It's every day life. The pictures are not perfect, not everyone is smiling and looking at the camera; they are not all "beautiful people" - they are just people who have parents and a spouse (significant other - whatever)who want to live and be a part of life.
And perhaps even sadder is the fact that I know my husband is a good and kind man, well-intentioned. The fact of the matter is that we have different views of what makes a life. Holiday weekends highlight this to me, and something in my bones tells me this may be the last holiday that we spend together. Not once is there mention of what we're doing for the kids for Easter, taking them to see the Easter Bunny, Easter outfits, going to mass, buying candy...nothing.
Last night I sat on the floor of the family room putting together two scooters - the Easter Bunny brought them instead of a lot of candy - and filling eggs to hide. My husband sat in a chair, not five feet from me, and asked after I was halfway through if I needed any help. No thanks. Where was he when I was coloring eggs with a 3 & 5 year old in the kitchen a few hours earlier? Watching TV. This has gone on for so long, that I not only don't want him to help, I really don't want him to even be around. It pisses me off that he gets to enjoy their happiness when he's done nothing to help.
Being compassionate toward him because of his alcoholism is something that I just can't bring myself to do. I have struggled with my own demons and while not perfect, now that I have kids, I won't let this horrible cycle of codependancy and alcoholism continue to affect at least me and my children. Why can't he find a sponsor, a home group, a therapist, a job? If he lived in a world by himself then I might be better able to understand. But he has so much more to live for, and I just cannot, and will not condone this behaviour any longer.
It's easy to rant, hard to follow through. I'm so tired of talking to him and getting nowhere. I'm just plain tired. Maybe some rest and a sunrise service at a nearby Abbey in the morning will help. I need strength to find my way.
Hello out there
11 months ago