I haven't posted in a while because the situation got a lot worse before it got better again, and I had lacked the energy to post.  Basically, after two weeks of sobriety, my husband stole money from me again in late October.  It was the rent money owed to my parents that I had stashed in a drawer because I didn't think my bank account was safe.  I made good on my threat to tell my parents about my husband's addiction, as I'd warned him I'd do if he stole money from me again.   So we had all four parents over that weekend and we got him into a four-week outpatient treatment program which he has now completed.  Through it all, he got to keep his job and his school program, minus one course.A week after he started treatment, I stumbled across explicit photographs he'd taken during his last binge the previous week, showing himself having sex with someone else in our bed.  I could not hide my displeasure.  He looked confused and sorry, and said, "I thought once I stopped using drugs, all this would blow over and be in the past and wouldn't matter."  I'm a forgiving person, but what he said didn't constitute an apology for adultery (and lying about it and giving me a sexually-transmitted disease).  I knew it would take a while for him to be able to genuinely apologize, since he didn't even seem to realize he'd done anything wrong by repeatedly having sex with other people in the days, weeks, and months surrounding his wedding vows of faithfulness to me. When he was 30 days sober, he said to me, "I wonder, if the shoe had been on the other foot"--i.e. if I had been the drug addict, instead of him--"how I would feel."  This made me hopeful.  It was his first expression of an attempt at empathy for my feelings throughout this whole drama.  There is at least a rudimentary conscience in there and some hope for a relationship.When he was 45 days sober, I started to feel like I had my husband back.  We were able to attend a concert, go out to dinner with friends, or just enjoy each other's company at home.  He felt good about being halfway through the "early recovery" stage.  But we still had no sexual relationship and I didn't know if my desire, and the necessary trust, would ever return.Last Friday, our state Supreme Court said it will not grant divorces to residents who were married in Massachusetts.  Massachusetts will not grant divorces to couples who married there unless at least one person has been a resident for one year.  It was strange to think that divorce is not even a legal option to us, but it was also reassuring, in the way it is comfortable to have your available choices reduced when you cannot decide among your many options. The next day, while I sat alone at a religious service, I had an insight into a question that has bothered me for some time:  Given that (a) my husband frequently used heavy drugs during the weeks preceding our marriage (b) he did not disclose this to me until I discovered it after the wedding (c) he breached what is arguably the most important part of the marriage contract, lifelong sexual fidelity, within four days -- does our marriage have much validity as a personal contract between two consenting adults?  The insight I received was as follows:  I have to be consistent in the moral capacity I attribute to my husband.  I should not say that he was capable of promising faithfulness to me but incapable of carrying out that promise; vice versa, I should not say that he was incapable of making ethical promises to me, but should be judged on an ethical level regarding his infidelity.  The marriage vow and the adultery are two sides of the same coin, as far as ethical capacity is concerned.  Either he should be judged on both, or judged on neither (being excused on account of his drug addiction).  This thought made me happy, because it works out to my benefit.  If we are really married, then I can hold him accountable for adultery; but if I decide he's too mentally ill to be held accountable for adultery, well, then, he was too sick to get married.  Either way, it relieves guilt from me.Last night, however, I did something that might damage trust betwen us.  I had worked at my office computer for 13 hours without a break, and had driven an hour each way.  My eyes were weary, and it was quarter to five in the morning when I got home.  I expected my husband to still be at his job.  As I tried to enter my house, I found that our empty wine rack was barricading our front door from the inside, but I managed to push it aside and enter.  (Triggers thoughts:  not welcome in own home, someone wants privacy or is trying to keep me out.  Actually, my husband had moved it flush against the door because he was doing laundry.)  The thermostat was cranked way up, which we never do, much less in the middle of the night, except on the rare occasions when we have company.  (Triggers thoughts:  a friend or stranger is visiting.)  There was a heavy scent of incense or candles.  (Triggers thoughts: marijuana or crack use.  Also gives me adrenaline rush fearing that I am inhaling some of this smoke and am being affected by it.)  I walked into my living room and I thought I saw a man surfing through pictures my husband's computer.  (Triggers thoughts:  using internet sex personals to find people to "party" with.)  The man appears thin, with a full head of blond hair, neither of which criteria fit my husband.  (That is the interesting trick that my weary eyes and strangely stimulated mind played on me.  There had to have been a strange crack addict in my bedroom, because I was expecting there to be one.)  I said "Hello?" and the man turned around and stared incomprehendingly at me for several seconds, and didn't respond.  (As it turns out, my husband was equally confused at five in the morning, and thought I was the neighbor walking in to say hello.  But when he looked scared and didn't respond, it triggered certainty in me that he--whoever he was--was drugged.)  I ran outside and waited a minute for the man to come out the front door, which he didn't do.  I noticed that my husband's car was not in his usual parking space.  So I went to find some neighborhood cops.  Four or five cops backed me up as we walked into my messy house.  My husband had just gone to bed naked and was rather rudely awakened.  I apologized for the embarrassing misunderstanding, and they left.  My husband was deprived of his only hour of sleep before starting the next day.  I haven't yet seen him today.