I’ve been invited to return as a guest on The Bubble Hour this evening, so I think I owe my little blog an update. The twins are napping and I’ve just made myself a cup of tea. In doing so, I remembered that at the tail end of my drinking, my oldest daughter was starting to become interested in my perpetual glass of wine. She wanted to know what it was, what it tasted like. I love the fact that now, whenever she wants to taste something I’m drinking, I can happily share it with her.
Returning to work has been quite an adjustment, but we are really lucky to live near family and have so far avoided daycare. My oldest daughter has started preschool, and so far it’s actually a little fun to open her backpack at the end of the day to check for updates and notices, and pack in whatever she needs for the next day. I was always responsible, drinking or not, so I would have gotten it done either way. I would have just been joylessly going through the motions.
My work has become a primary raison d’être. Work before was always a drag, the thing I slogged through in order to go home and start drinking, or consciously refrain from drinking, depending on what day of the week it was. I am present at work. In probably my proudest professional moment, I have already been promoted and am now the school’s new special education teacher. These students are in need of love, patience, understanding…everything. Many of them have experienced unthinkable trauma in their short lives. They are at risk for everything that destroys lives: drugs, prison, gang membership, violence, you name it. For one of my students, my classroom is the last stop, his final chance before all his public school options have been exhausted. If he does not show any growth, he will end up in a residential facility. I have always wanted to do something important, and I have finally found it. I am raising a family and I am working for a school that is doing something new, something important, and something good.
My marriage is a mess. On a day-to-day basis, things are ok. But then every once in awhile, it goes haywire. My husband is not the near-daily drinker that I was. He’s pretty good about drinking only on the weekends, and usually fairly moderately. However, every few weeks or so he drinks more than moderately and he becomes impossible to deal with. He gets explosively angry with me over unpredictable things, and gets really verbally abusive. We have discussed counseling, and in his humble, hungover moments he has agreed, but then when I try to follow up later, the response is lukewarm to downright hostile. I don’t know what the solution is, but at this exact moment, I’m ok with that.
I am sad that my marriage is not what I wish it was. I am lonely. I long for companionship, trust, and open-minded communication. But I am in a stratospherically different place than I was nine months ago. I am so much more self-assured, so much more confident. I can tell people no. I can tell my mother-in-law to mind her own business and not spend much time worrying what she thinks about me. I know that I will find the companionship and love I seek, whether it’s through repairing my broken relationship with my husband, or through moving on and living independently for awhile. I know that when I need to make something happen, I will. Even though my life is nonstop busy and far from perfect, I’m in the most serene, confident mental place of my life. I like it here.