I apologize in advance for the novel length I know this post will be.

Here's what's been going on with me lately or, rather, whats' been going on with the AH and been negatively affecting me (ugh).

AH went to detox then rehab over the holidays. AH got kicked out of rehab about a month ago (after being in there for 2 weeks). AH called me crying telling me the story. He said he got kicked out for taking a T3 for a toothache. I knew it was a lie. I could just tell, but, denial is powerful, as we all know. I dont know how many times it'll take for me to just trust my instincts which have never been wrong.

So, being the weak person that I now am, I let AH come home as he told me he would go back to rehab after this round of people were done (about 2-3 weeks).

Well, that 2.5 weeks were the worst of my life. AH was good for 5 days. Then, wow. Just wow. I thought he was going to actually die a handful of times. He was 10X crazier, meaner, more ridiculous, more messed up, more insane ect.. that I have ever come close to seeing.

I thought AH was on more than just Booze. He seemed kinda drunk, but more. More just absolutely f'ed up it was so scary. He was so out of touch with reality, WAY more than he ever was while hammered out of his mind. Id look at him, and no one was home, eyes glazed over, huge pupils, incredibly paranoid, white face, sweating, rapid talking, but slurring, just insane.

One night after I dropped AH off at AA he came home an hour and a half later so completely messed up I thought he would die, I thought I would die, the time passed in slow motion, I felt like I was outside my body living some other horrible life that only happens in the movies.

AH stumbled in the house after taking 5 minutes to unlock the door - fell down on his ass 5 times in 5 minutes. He could not stand, not even lean against a wall. I was terrified, heart pounding out of my chest, adrenaline racing through my body.I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. I asked AH to go to the spare room and lie down.

I told him I didnt want my daughter to see him like this. He told me he just fell cause his shoes had no grip. Normally, in the past, I would be annoyed, but now, I am just scared out of my mind. Everything hurts, every part of me aches.

Finally AH agreed and went to the spare room. He got mad and told me he wasnt tired, it wasnt bed time yet he whined like a 5 year old. I just closed the door and asked him to lie down. He trashed the room first, broke the desk trying to move it in front of the door so I couldnt get in the room, everything fell and broke on the floor. Luckily my daughter was in her room on the phone with music on so she didnt hear anything..thank god.

5 minutes later I check on the AH, I had to shove the door open cause a now broken desk was jammed in front of it. AH is passed out face first hanging off the bed. I checked his pulse.

My daughter comes out of her room bouncing down the hallway, all excited that Netflix now has this movie she wants to watch so we go watch it togetherof course, I cant enjoy this precious time with her cause Im worried sick that AH is dying upstairs. I had to make up an excuse every 20 minutes just so I could go and check his pulse. The guilt I feel for this is indescribable.

4 hours later, daughter is sleeping, AH wakes up. He gets on the phone with one of the friends he made in rehab who is still in rehab and sober. AH is telling him how he had a good AA meeting tonight, how the phone is the heaviest object in the house but he picks it up anyway ect. AHHH!

Once AH got off the phone, I asked him to talk (he seemed more or less sober now). I told him that tonight was ridiculous and I cant do it again, I dont wanna hear him talk about how he couldnt possibly be drunk for a, b and c reasons. I know hes using something other than booze and Im scared out of my mind and I do not want my daughter to come home one day and find him dead. I told him to either go to detox before rehab (which was still 13 days away) or get out of the house tomorrow. AH told me he has nothing to detox from so he didnt feel right going, but he would go.

So, the next day, AH got everything together for detox, he was going to be admitted in 5 days. The next night, AH comes home more f'ed up than the last time. He was so so so sick. I was so so so sick for wanting to talk with himbut ALL I wanted was for him to go to sleep I was SO worried, I couldnt sleep, I was worried he would pass out and die, or use again and OD, I just wanted him to sleep so, I followed him around like a big huge fool - he was so mad (hell, I would have hated myself). At one point I grabbed his shoulders to prevent him from turning around cause he wouldnt look at me when we spoke and I was annoyed, and he freaked out, jumped away from me, quivered in the corner, shot up, grabbed the phone and attempted to call 911 to have me arrested for physical abuse! He went on and on about how he will not tolerate this physical abuse from me any longer, how I've created an environment where he doesnt feel safe, ect After I took the phone away, I just stood there, absolutely dumbfounded, he was insane. Insane. I was so scared. Finally, finally, I just went to sleep at 4 in the morning, I was so mad at myself for arguing with the AH, why couldnt I just leave it be!!! I know why, cause I was scared he was going to die, but I cant control that so whats the point! Uggg Im just as crazy. I was getting WAY better but, well, now I think Im the queen of crazy.

So, I called in sick for work the next day.and watched AH come off whatever he was on, he was detoxing. HARD. I knew then, for sure, he was on more than booze. I was scared. He was white, pouring sweat one second, then shivering from being cold the next. He was so anxious he shook his writs every time he spoke, he stuttered, and mumbled, he could not think at all - it was intense.

The next day AH calls me at work (which Im amazed I can still function atI have a pretty demanding job and it drains me). AH breaks down.

He admits he became addicted to Vicodin. He spend $600.00 on Vicodin in the last 10 days. He met his dealer in rehab. The dealer went to rehab to recruit addicts. (How sick is that!!!) He tells me he lied about the T3, he got kicked out for taking Vicodin. He described his first experience and it was text book. The euphoria, the no physical or emotional pain, everything was right, all pain, guilt, shame ect. melted away. Then he described how all he wanted to do was re-live that experience and get that feeling back but he never could. He took one vicodin again, and it didnt work, so then he took 2, and it didnt work, so then he took it with booze, and it didnt work ect He told me he went from 2 to 8 pills a day. He told me how he knows he is such an addict - he knew he was addicted after the first pill, he proved to himself that he can get addicted to anything, not just booze. He described how he would leave AA after I dropped him off, and he's hop on a bus to the liquor store, buy vodka, then go sit on a snow bank in the alley behind the store, take his Vicodin, then chug his vodka, gets messed up alone, then walk home. He cried about how he could have snuggled with me and my daughter watching movies that night, but instead he went and had a party by himself all alone in an alley behind a liquor store. My heart broke into a million pieces I was trying not to cry and I sat there, silently for 20 minutes as he told me all this.

Oh, and AHs sponsor screwed off, there was drama with other members of the AA group, and no one has heard from him some say he's relapsing.

AH is still in detox, off to rehab on Tuesday. He calls me every night and we chat for 5-10 minutes. He sounds incredible, as he always does when sober.

Now, I dont know what to do. I feel just broken. Frozen by fear. There are so many things I need to do and organize and I just cant. Sometimes I think I should go to a doctor and take anti-depressants, maybe that would give me some get up and go to DO something but, I dont wanna medicate myself if I dont have to. I dont have depression or any other mental illness, but situational depression, for sure. But, even taking that trip to the doctor is too much work.

I'm thinking hard and even kinda making plans to leave my husband. I love him so much, but I can't live like this - it is just killing me and I I dont WANT or deserve to live like this. I realize, I don't love my husband as he is now, I adore and love the person he WAS and the person I get to see now for maybe 10 minutes a day, and I want that person back, more than anything but, can he come back? How many years of my life will I waste waiting for that to happen? But, when I think of leaving him, I think of how worried I will be wondering how he is, if hes aliveand that also scares me so much that I just cant do anything! I'm already missing him, mourning him, scared to move on. I look at wedding pictures in our house and other pics of when we were happy, and Im so sad. I wonder what I'll do with those pictures if I leave? I can't imagine a life without him -  everything I thought my life would be, is over. Every dream, is shattered. No kids with him, no happily ever after, no trips, no love, no trust. I cant imagine going on without him, I can't imagine a life without him, but, I can't live like this for much longer. I'm so sad.

I don't want to be someone who lives like this, on and off, for decades before she finally leaves, I hear stories in alanon of those who left after years and decades and I find them inspiring that they left and are more at peace now, but, I dont want to find that strength to leave in 20 years. I want that strength now. Or, I want AH to get and stay sober now..but, I dont think he is able to be honest enough to do that so well, well see. But even if he does stay sober, Ill never trust him again, I dont think I can. I think that fear that hell use or drink will always be in the back of my mind, and I honestly dont know if I can move forward. I know, one day at a time, I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, theres my share. Im back.