The fool I am

I’ve been trying to save my husband from his addiction for over two and half years now. I know what you’re thinking…Why am I still there? I don’t know?! The sad thing is I am well aware that I can’t help him; he has to help himself. I separated from him and am living with family but still go stay with him on weekends; my role of “Enabler” continues. It’s like I am watching him wither away and feeling myself wither away with him. What hurts most is that I know that the only way out is that I must leave and turn my back on him. I feel like I am right on the brink of turning my back but I still have this ping of hope followed by this fear of reality…it’s called co-dependency…co-dependency in a toxic relationship…a recipe for disaster. Writing this in a blog makes me feel worse, at least in this moment, because I am so aware of what I am doing wrong that it is me that is the fool for continuing with the madness. Because that is what this is…madness! It’s like I am purposely driving myself off a cliff and even though I can jump out the car, I just keep heading towards the edge. What the fuck is wrong with me? So many people out there are dealing with the same bullshit I am dealing with. So many watch in horror as the one we love self-destructs. So many of us make the mistake of thinking we are helping when we only make it worse. But I need to be one of the ones strong enough to walk away. And so here I am. Almost at the end of my journey with this man, this zombie that was once my husband. The pain I feel in my heart is inexplicable. I am mad that I allow myself to hurt because I know that I am continuing to hurt myself…and it’s my choice because I stay. But all I want to do is leave and start my life over…I want to forget. I want to wake up and forget about all this love and hurt. I just want it all to end. But at the same time, I want him to be safe, sober and happy…not dead. I am conflicted with this overwhelming responsibility to him and loyalty to me. I feel like Sam, Frodo and Gollum all rolled into one. It’s impossible for this not to end bad. No matter how I try to plan out every detail of my escape, I foolishly continue to hope that he will go to rehab of his own free will and fight for our marriage. In the end I just feel like a damn fool. A big, damn fool.