For two weeks DH has been grotty – perpetual headaches and miserable. Convinced a drink will help. It’s infuriating to hear him talk like that. Has he learnt nothing? Obviously not because he got back on Sunday to tell me he’d had a pint. I nearly threw the bowl I was holding at him. Instead I went upstairs, got my shoes on and was about to go out when I realised I was in the middle of giving the kids lunch. So instead of storming off in a childish yet satisfying way, I had to hang around. Grr.
He apologised. Of course. But while he’s talking to me I just felt furiously angry and disappointed. He disappeared upstairs.
DS1 came up to me to tell me that I was taking them out to the park????? Er, no. So I went upstairs to find out why I had to do that. Husband informs me that he can’t take them out because I don’t trust him enough. Good point. But do I want to take three kids and the dog to the park? Not really. Hmmm. Moral dilemma.
As I’ve calmed down from category 5 (bowl throwing) to Category 3 (heavy sarcasm), I hear him out. He feels terrible. The pint tasted awful. He hates himself. It did not make him feel good. That’s he’s as bad as all the other people from his course who’ve relapsed.
It’s all a bit blah blah blah to my ears at first, but I actually start to listen properly and realise that what he’s saying is what I’ve wanted to hear him say for ages. That alcohol doesn’t make him feel better. That it’s not the answer to his low mood. That it did nothing for him.
And I start to wonder – did he need to do this?