My fucking heart hurts

I'm pissed. I've never been this pissed in my life. I should be filled with gratitude. I should practice radical acceptance. But I just want to scream, cry and break shit. I hate everything that has to do with his illness and the end of my marriage.

God, are you all going to get sick of me soon? I am sick of me.

I am just pissed. I want a husband. I want a father for my kids. I want someone to hang out with that is an ADULT. I know I don't need those things. But I want it.  This was not the plan I had.  It hurts.  It hurts.  It hurts.

He doesn't want me anymore either. He won't say it, but he can't stand being in the same room as me.  I could see it at Christmas, New Year's and my son's birthday.  He is a stranger.    I want a divorce. I want a divorce now.  I want this over with. I want to move on.   But he is generous enough to wait until  I am done with school, because it makes the most sense for me financially. So that I can support myself when I am done.

But the price is me not having closure.   So I wait, as long as he will.  But my spoiled self wants to get it over with NOW.

Then he says stuff to me like if I were to allow him to drink (only on the weekends, YEAH RIGHT) then we could have a normal life.  That he would help around the house, be more social, be more engaged.  That it was my tight leash that made him get out of hand when he was out.  Basically, he doesn't want to be sober, and he is blaming me for the way he drank, and the fact that he hates sobriety. So basically this is all my fault.

Only an alcoholic would look at this situation and believe that booze would make it better.  Come on.

I am well aware that neither of those things are my fault.  And I know, I know, Alanon.  Sheesh, will you lay off?

So what I am most pissed about is this.  Here he has been gone for about six weeks.  I, of course, had hope that by his leaving, he would get better.  By his family dealing with his illness, he would get better.  That he would WANT to grasp ahold of a program of recovery from drugs and alcohol.

In the meantime, I cleaned under the stairs. Because I don't know what else to do. I want to change everything here. Make it my own. I have to move on. He threatens me with drinking. He makes and breaks promises. I can't let him hurt me anymore.

Behind a dresser I found an old bottle of my vodka.  Very timely.  I poured it out and it is in the recycling.  Just when you think your house is safe...

Anyway, Millie was a big help, and now we have all of this storage of my things.  

I finally packed up the rest of his clothes.  This whole closet is mine.  How happy that makes me, you have no idea.  

I cleaned all of the drawers and cupboards in my bathroom.

Doesn't that look better?

I had little men help me move furniture up the stairs. 

I don't want to sound like I don't have compassion for Bob.  I do.  I understand he is sick.  But dragging out the end of this relationship, for as long as I have, is really starting to take it's toll on me me.  I just want to be free.  But I have to wait one more year.  That is if he doesn't end it first.  

This is nothing he doesn't know or maybe agree with.  It is painful to be in limbo.  Limbo sucks.  

Fuck I want to say something happy.  Today, I have nothing.

Here are some kick ass before and after pics of my living room

Before

After

I have that to make me less pissed.  Sorry for the pity party.  This too shall pass.