Men Don't Change!

I found an old USB drive today and started looking at the documents on it. I found this post that I wrote and never posted. It says I saved it June 18th 2007. Little did I know when I wrote it that I would have moved out and be on my way to a divorce less than six months later. I have grown so much since I wrote this. I am kind of proud to post it because I know I am so much better today...


There should be a special place in heaven for wives like me that put up with as much turmoil as I have over the past 11 years. For as many years as I have hung in there and waited for him to hit bottom, I keep thinking that we have to be there by now.

He isn’t an angry drunk… not usually. But he does stay up all hours of the night, sometimes until the sun comes up the next day. Our dog and I are restless the entire evening that he is drinking. Even our dog can’t settle down and go to sleep until everyone is in the house for the night. I wake up periodically wondering if he has come in yet and he hasn’t. I wake to the sounds of my husband and the neighbor “hooting” and “hollering”., falling down, yelling, and falling in to things.

I will get up the next day to a backyard full of beer bottles, cigarette butts, liquor bottles and a mess. When he runs out of beer he raids my liquor, which I will have one drink every now and again. When he drinks liquor he blacks out and can’t remember much. This time he wakes up at 3:00 pm on Saturday, still drunk… and angry, blaming me and telling me that I have an attitude problem and I can pack up my stuff and leave.

His family are all alcoholics at best, every last one of them. Alcohol changes my husband. If his family calls when he is sober, he usually doesn’t want to talk to them. But when he drinks, he calls them or will pick up the phone when they call. He will stoop to what I call “their level” and act just like one of them.

I often feel left along the way-side wondering when this tornado of a marriage will finally end. I keep asking myself, how long should I keep my promise to God? For better or worse... At what point is enough, enough? I am sick of having that sick feeling in my stomach on the way home from work, wondering whether it is going to be quiet night or not. I have had so many extremely embarrassing drunken episodes with him on vacation, the whole time we are gone I am in fear of what is going to happen.

He doesn’t think that he has a problem. But he does…
He has no self control. It can’t be one or two, it is either all or none. He doesn’t understand any of my feelings. I keep looking for signs of what I should do, all of my friends and family wonder why I stay. I wonder sometimes too. I guess if I could pack a suitcase leave in my car without hurt, pain, anger, and memories… I would. But it isn’t that easy, I wish it were.

Undergoing MyBlogLog Verification