Letters To My Husband - Number 3

Thursday, 10 September 2020


Dear Husband,


I found this today. I wrote this paragraph on March 17, 2017. This paragraph was a draft of my first ever blog post. Remember my blog about loving you through your addiction?



“Yesterday was the anniversary of our first "date."  I've spent a lot of time reflecting over the past 4 years since that wonderful night when I accepted his invitation to drink beer at a bonfire.  I really haven't come up with anything sappy or warm and fuzzy.  

This morning I woke up still a little hurt and angry about the hurt from last night caused by his addiction.  The baby stirred at 5:51 am, but stayed asleep after I put the pacifier back in her mouth.  As usual, I decided to stay awake to clean up from last night before the husband and toddler crawled out of bed.  I pumped milk for the baby, put some laundry in the washer, and started a pot of coffee.  After all that, I looked at the dirty dishes all over the counter and grease-covered stove. Trying not to fall on the grease-covered floor, I began the daunting task of cleaning the mess made when my husband made dinner last night.”


Coronavirus murders': Media narrative about domestic abuse during lockdown  misses the point


Fast forward to September 10, 2020. In 2020, I don’t remember what happened on the night of the anniversary of our first date. Since I can’t remember, I did what every logical millennial would do. I went to my Facebook Timeline, where I found this gem.




I know, this post seems innocent enough. Of all the posts I shared surrounding the time I wrote the above passage, this is the one that I choose to shed some light on. I no longer wonder why you didn’t get sick with the rest of our family. The answer is so simple and obvious. It’s so simple that I must have known back then but chose to ignore it. Or maybe you gaslighted me into a distorted version of reality. You were really good at that.



You didn’t catch our illnesses because you were rarely home. You came home long enough to change your clothes sometimes. Sometimes, you would eat dinner with us before leaving. Those were the days when it hurt the most. You know, the days you didn’t return from a 6:30 pm “post-dinner-before-putting-the-kids-to-bed” trip to the store that kept you until 11 pm, 12 am, and sometimes 6 am the following day. Do you remember those days? In case you’ve forgotten, here’s a photo of the March 2017 calendar.



All of those red boxes were the nights you ditched us and discarded us like old shoes. Some of those nights, you didn’t even bother to come home until it was time to get ready for work the next day. Since coming across this photo, I’ve decided that the red block has something to do with why I woke up hurt by you the day after the anniversary of our first date. I don’t think you’ll ever understand the hurt caused by your abandonment and abuse. I started a blog that day. I made my first post. I was so dedicated to hiding your abuse that I didn’t share what I WANTED to write on 3/17/17. If I’m completely honest, I was also afraid of your reaction if you ever read it. You were really good at intimidating me. So I left it in my Google Docs and forgot about it until 2020.



Every red box on that calendar represents a night I had to tell our then 3-year-old, that I didn’t know where her daddy was. Every red box is a night our daughter and I prayed together that daddy would make it home safely. Every red box is a night our daughter cried herself to sleep. Every red box represents a night your devoted wife cried and prayed and pleaded with God to take away your addiction.



Every night you abandoned us, I would replay the events and conversations (if there were any) of the day, and try to determine what I could have said or done differently so you would just come home after work. I didn’t know at the time but I was never going to be “good enough” to keep you home. There was nothing I could do to change YOUR behavior.


I often scoured Pinterest for ideas to get you interested in me; in our family. I even made sexy board games and invited you to a naked movie night once. Do you remember that? You discarded the invitation and then didn’t show up. Mind you, it was taking place at home, in our bedroom. My feelings were so hurt. I’ll never forget how I felt waiting for you to walk through the door that night. Even though I was crushed and hurt, I still didn’t give up. I kept searching for ways to please you and make you happy. I just wanted you to love me.



I’ve always wondered how you could treat me so horribly. I mean, you said you loved me. I never really felt loved though. I remember our 3rd wedding anniversary. You left early in the morning to go to the store but didn’t make it home until right before going to dinner. What I remember most from that day is the feeling of abandonment and not being important. I still don’t know what you were doing. I assume drugs and drinking with your brother as usual. When you got home, you gave me a gold wedding band with tiny diamonds in it. You gaslighted me and somehow made me feel like I had done something wrong. I should have been grateful because you were out buying me that ring.



I should have left then because it was blatantly obvious that you did not care about me, my likes, or my desires. I was 4 weeks away from delivering our second child. I don’t like gold jewelry, or gold anything actually. I detest diamonds. Every time I look at a diamond, I picture a woman being raped and children being murdered. We have had many conversations throughout the years about diamonds. You know how I feel about them and why.



I now know that what’s wrong with you is so much deeper than alcohol and drug addiction. I don’t think drugs and alcohol are the issues. I think your addiction is a symptom of your actual disease. I wish with every fiber of my being that I had left you on March 17, 2017, instead of starting a blog about loving you and praying for you through your addiction. I didn’t know then that my efforts were futile, and your behavior and treatment of me would only get worse.

2 comments

  1. That is such a powerful "letter" Jessica. I love you, you are loved-right here!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you! You've been my support through this. I love how you support whatever decisions I make. You're an amazing sister and friend.

      Delete