If it’s that bad, why does she stay?
For me, personally, the answer is- because it was easier.
Not easier in the way you might think. Easier as in familiar, I knew what to expect.
Easier because I felt like I had some control.
Let me paint you a picture-
You are upstairs. Your three year old has decided to check out some of your makeup in the downstairs bathroom. The problem is, they’re too small to reach the cabinet above the sink. So, in three year old fashion, they climb up onto the sink, open the cabinet, twist the cap off of your foundation and try it out. Balanced on the sink, your child slips and falls onto the tile below and is now hurt and crying.
Tears falling hard, they run out of the bathroom screaming, searching for comfort. What they find in the living room is their parent passed out on the couch, high, oblivious to the commotion, unable to attend to their needs.
You, however, heard the crash and have rushed down the stairs to console your child, scoop them up into your arms and offer them the comfort they were searching for, your partner still motionless on the couch.
That is why you stay.
You stay because you can be there when their other parent is there but not really there. When the other parent cannot meet their needs because of addiction. When the other parent is too high to attend to their injured child. You stay.
Staying is the lesser of two evils. If you stay, you know there will always be someone to meet their needs. You are vigilant. You are always there. The kids are always with you- so you can keep them safe.
I was fooling myself. I wasn’t in control, and I certainly wasn’t happy. There’s a big difference between being a single parent because you choose to be, and being a single parent when your partner is in the same room as you.
The times he was present, and loved and cared for them, did not excuse the failure to be a parent when the addiction took over.
I was on duty 100% of the time. Always ready to pick up the slack.
So, I walked on eggshells. I tried to keep the peace. I fought. I yelled. I asked why. I begged. I blamed.
I stayed.
I could never imagine a world where I was not there to protect them. I had seen what addiction had done to their father. I could not leave them in the hands of someone I no longer trusted with their safety and well being.
I stayed because the alternative was worse- for them. A home divided. Me no longer able to pick up the slack.
I stayed because I hoped it would get better. I believed the promises of recovery.
Until I didn’t.
Until I couldn’t do it anymore.
I learned how to set boundaries. I learned to trust myself. I learned that my happiness was important too.
This was my life. Was this how I wanted to live?
I was not in control of how someone else lived their life, but I sure as hell had the power to decide how I wanted to live mine.
It was not an easy decision to make. It was one of the hardest decisions of my life. It came with a whole lot of suck afterwards.
Struggles, tears, fear, hopelessness.
But I made it through. The boys made it through. Their father’s journey is out of my hands. I have reconciled that. In sadness, but I have done so nonetheless.
I urge you to look at your own life and decide if you are on the path you want to be on. The hardest thing to do is make a change. Stepping outside your comfort zone is hard, but if you don’t, you’ll always be in the exact same place. Make sure it’s where you want to be.
There is hope. It won’t be easy. Parts of it will suck. Some of it will drop you to your knees, wishing you never rocked the boat.
Do it anyway. Know that there is a life out there worth living, not just surviving( which once upon a time, that’s all I could manage to do).
You’re worth it.
