I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take the drinking, the lying and the overall frustration that comes from your drinking. I can’t take it that when you are faced with a choice between our family or your booze, you choose the latter, every time. I can’t take watching you break promise after promise and watching the man I love turn into a man I cannot stand. I hate that man. You know, if I saw that man on the street, I would cross to the other side to avoid him. I never would have agreed to a date with him, never would have met him for dinner. I never would have moved in with him or tearfully said yes when he asked me to marry him. I never would have look that man in the eyes and promised to love, cherish and honor him before God.
The honest truth is, I cannot love, cherish or honor an alcoholic. You cannot cherish someone who does not cherish anyone or anything besides that bottle. Alcoholics have no honor. The only love that they feel is for their next drink. Marriage vows mean nothing to an alcoholic simply because their first love will always be a fermented beverage.
I never would have born a child to that man. That man does not know what it means to be pregnant, trying to help their drunk up the stairs, into bed, all the while being called vile and vicious names while simultaenously trying to make sure that the kids do not wake up and see their father like this. That man does not know what it is like looking into the eyes of someone you love so dearly, and realizing, the one you love is not there anymore.
I have watched you go from bad to worse. I have watched your descent into the bottomless pool of beer and whiskey. That sour smell in my bed, on my clothes, in my hair. I have to wash those sheets to get the smell out. I have to scrub the toilet clean of evidence from your bout with it the night before.
I have heard every excuse and accusation that you can throw at me, trying to convince me that this is my fault. That if I were better, more beautiful, more productive, less emotional, that you would not drink. However, because I am human, you drink, and so, this is my fault. That rationale is insane at the best of times, and downright ludicrus in this situation. The fact is, you had these problems long before me, and you will have them long after I am gone.
I am not your mother. It is not my job to love you unconditionally, no matter how mean, evil or retched you are to me. That right is reserved strictly for the children I have borne. If any of my children behaved like that, I would disown them. I would love them the whole time I was doing it, but I would still do it.
That bottle will not cook your supper, do your laundry or clean your house. It will not raise your children, pack your lunch or be there to hold you and tell you everything will be alright. It will not make you a gift in arts and crafts class nor will it sing Jingle Bells in the school Christmas performance. It will not make a home run or a touch down just to make you proud. All it will do is ruin your life, destroy your family and cost you every good person you have ever known.
Alcoholics are abusers. Not just of the substance, but of their families. The uncertainty, the insecurity, the emotional and mental abuse heaped upon loved ones who threaten the addiction. These are classic earmarks of an abuser. I cannot allow my children to be raised with that. A father’s job is to be a son’s first hero and a daughter’s first love. You are not teaching my sons how to be a man nor my daughter what to look for in one with your foolishness.
You cannot handle life. Every little bump in the road sends you into a tailspin that lands directly at the liquor store. I need a teammate. Someone who can pinch hit when I need help. Someone I can trust. I cannot trust a man who gets drunk over a backed up toilet. I cannot count on a man who makes more work for me.
Life is stressful enough as it is without dividing our forces or resentment building between us. I resent you. You and your addiction has sucked the joy out of my life. You have left me and the children unbalanced and unsure. When will daddy drink again? has become a constant game we play. Life is not perfect. There are bumps and ruts along the way. Every single one is not a reason to drink and add more problems to an already frustrating situation.
I am sorry, but this is to be our last time. I have given you chance after chance. Every single time, you make the same promises and you break them. It is to the point where I do not want to even hear them as I no longer believe them. I have had enough. There is no trust. And where there is no trust, there can be no love. Without love, what is the point of marriage.
I will go it alone. At this point, being single is preferable. I will not have to come home from work, wondering about and dreading the night ahead. I will not have to call and make excuses to your boss about why you can’t be in to work today. And when there is a problem, it can be handled, quickly, efficiently, and without a sour after taste.
I am sorry it had to end this way. I didn’t want it to. I hope you and Jack Daniels will be very happy, because I know the children and I will be.
Your Loving Ex Wife