I'll try to keep it short, but a lot has happened lately.
I couldn't cope so I cancelled the AA shrink. Hubby got upset and cancelled my credit cards, the only way to show me how serious he is about my 'drinking problem'.
As revenge I put our marriage on hold. I went to London to visit my long-lost trophy wife mentor Trinnie and have time to think things over by myself. A week of complete relaxation; spa, shopping and partying led me to realize hubby is overreacting. He's always treated me like a baby, which has caused me to act like one.
I had left NY without telling him. Just a note in the kitchen. He kept calling my cell every 5 hours, first leaving voicemail saying "please come back baby, we can work this out" and after a few days the mood had changed to "get your ass back here - or I'll send you the divorce papers".
That did the trick - I left lovely London. I needed not only double drinks on the plane, but also a manicure at arrival since I'd bitten down my nails completely.
We scheduled a marriage counsellor. Those sessions consisted of tears, nasty verbal attacks, tears, mean words, tears, then finally reconciliation. But even though we managed to agree that our marriage is strong enough to survive this - and anything else, this time the awesome make-up sex just wasn't happening.
Hubby grew more distant than ever, buried himself in work even more and fell asleep on the couch the few times he was in town. When I was on a desperate house hunt for pills to calm my nerves I found a prescriptions for anti-depressants in hubby's briefcase. That alarmed my every sense. Hubby is a mentally and physically strong, ambitious, respected man - but obviously with secrets. If he can't share them with his wife, then who can he talk to?
I kept bottling up and needed someone to talk to and take advice from, but since dad passed away there's noone I can trust serious problems with. I was on the verge of popping valium, doing a line and drinking excessively - but I needed my every brain cell to work with me on this letter.
I didn't know how to adress him on this matter, as he never had time to even speak on the phone anymore. I finally sat down and wrote a letter. It took two days and two sleepless nights.
I was a nervous wreck as I sent the letter off to his office. I locked myself up in my bedroom whilst waiting for a sign, any sign, that he had received it.
How deep is ones' problems when the only way you can communicate your inner feelings and thoughts to your husband is by a letter?
A dreadful 24 hours later hubby finally came home, broke down my bedroom barricade and stood in the doorway wide-eyed without saying a word. Without any expression tears began rolling down his cheeks.
"I have not been the husband I wanted to be", he finally whispered and bowed his head as filled with shame. "Can you forgive me?"
We sat up until dawn and talked, completely openly - for the first time during our entire time as a couple. I'd never realized hubby had so many dreams, visions, hopes and fears.. neither had he.
It's scary, but we've taken a new turn. A much-needed u-turn. Out with the old, in with the new.
When hubby had finally fallen asleep I tiptoed to my three secret liquer and pill stashes and threw it all out, then went back to bed. Happy, curled up against the love of my life.