Thank God...

Thank God.....
Nov 26, 2008 12:43 am213 Views
THAT'S OVER WITH!!! So anyway, now that I have alienated anyone who may have previously enjoyed my blogs, by writing about how I planned to kill myself..... Let me get this straight... I AM NOT EVER GOING TO KILL MYSELF!!So back to my little story, aka my life...So the Meteor and I moved back to New Jersey... in with his parents. Thankfully they had no misconceptions about what a monster their son could be ... however, they weren't looking to intervene either. And to be honest, they are and always will be wonderful people, but no so wonderful that I want to live with them for the rest of my life, if only to ensure the Meteor won't beat me, or cheat, or abuse me in any way. I had a feeling it was only a matter of time, before something completely fucked up happened. The Meteor lived his life always trying to be what he thought he was supposed to be ... but it is nearly impossible to fit a square peg in a round hole... and eventually someone is going to notice, that he just isn't suited to live that sort of life. When he was released from the military, he was severely addicted to prescription pain killers. I knew this, but I didn't know how to stop it, control it, or deal with it. I had discovered after we were married, that he had had drug addiction in his past... but street drug addiction and prescription drug addiction aren't the same, right? WRONG!We were living at his parents for about two months, when one night, he didn't come home from his friend's house when he said he would ( which was to be around 9 pm). In fact, he didn't show up home until almost 4:30 am. He was sweaty and cold. At first he said he was with his friend still, but I had called his friend hours ago to see if he was still there, I mean I thought he was laying in a ditch somewhere. I told him that I knew he wasn't still at his friend's house, because I had called, and woken him up at 1:30am. He then said he met up with another friend (whom I'd never heard of) and they went to a bar. I reminded him that it was 4:30 in the morning and that the bars close at two. He couldn't give me a good explanation. So I informed him that I was glad he was home safe, and that I was going to bed. He followed me to bed. I lay there stewing... because we were broke. I mean we had the severance package that the military gave him... but that had to last us until I/we found a job. He was out all night. I could feel his cold skin next to me in the bed. Cold and clammy. Cold, clammy, and vibrating. Now my experience to this point with the drug world was limited to pot, and thanks to him... pharmaceuticals. Whatever he was on... it made him feel hot inside, so hot, that he lost his coat in the middle of the night in November, with snow on the ground. But made his body vibrate as it lay next to me. It felt as though I was laying next to a corpse trying to be re-animated with electricity. I wanted to throw up. Finally I was able to sleep. Not for long. Because he woke me up, STILL HIGH, to make his confession. He said he was out with a guy. A guy I'd heard the name mentioned before, and never in a positive light. He said he met up with him after leaving his best friend's house. That the two of them DID go to a bar and have a few drinks, but that after the bar closed they ended up going to the guy's house, and smoking crack, or snorting it, or something. I was so angry I couldn't even speak. All I knew was that the Meteor had gone back to street drugs... and now that he has a taste for them again, there was no way I would survive. I informed him that I planned to try and go back to sleep, but he needed to remember that THIS was his one chance to fuck up. He wouldn't have any more chances from me. I would leave, if he used again. If he chose drugs over me. If I was pushed further down his list of priorities.