The walk home from the local football club was dark. Simple as that. It was a clear winter night, and there was no moon in the sky. The only relief from the darkness was the occasional streetlight. The cold air was refreshing on my body, warm from the copious amount of alcohol I had consumed tonight. Georgia wasn’t going to be happy. She thinks my drinking is a bad influence on the kids. She doesn’t want them to grow up like me. That’s always a comforting thing to hear from your wife. I know it isn’t exactly me she has a problem with. Georgia has always loved me, and probably always will. It was my friends, specifically the drug dealer next door. I wasn’t doing any hard drugs, well not really; it wasn’t like I was out doing meth or anything
…show more content…
Am. Not. Letting. You. In.” Determined.
“This is my house. You can’t just lock me out”.
“Tough. Because that is what I’m doing. You can’t just come home at whatever time you please, drunk on alcohol and who knows what other drugs you’ve taken”.
“So what. You’d rather I spend the night outside. Would you rather I be passed out in the gutter somewhere and not have any idea where I am”. Honestly, she never considers that this isn’t the worst case scenario. She always acts like it’s the end of the world.
“Don’t you give me that crap! You are bringing your addiction into our home and into our children’s life. You are making this seem like something normal to them. Is that what you want?”
I think I must be a sociopath or something of the sort. The tears have started and Georgia’s voice has gone shrill. I never could handle seeing her cry. Not because I don’t like to see her upset, frankly, it’s just downright annoying. Like I said, I’m probably a sociopath or something.
“Of course that isn’t what I want. And its’ hardly an addiction. I have this under complete control.” Lie.
“You can deny it all you want, but you are not coming in.”
“So what am I supposed to do then huh. Where am I supposed to …show more content…
Though the door was unlocked, there was a suitcase sitting near it. Whether it was for me or Georgia was unclear.
“I’m not even going to bother asking where you spent last night.” I hadn’t seen her sitting in the lounge room, but she stood up when I arrived.
“What is the suitcase for?” No point beating around the bush.
“It’s for you.” Go figure. “There’s a rehab clinic a couple of hours south. They’re able to take you immediately.”
“I don’t need bloody rehab! I’m fine.” Lies.
“Your brother is on his way here now. He’s going to take you there.” I can tell there’s no point arguing. She’s already made her mind up. It’s either this or walk away for good.
“For how long?” It can’t possibly be that bad. Maybe I do need help after all. Just to wean me off the hard stuff. I can get back to the alcohol and weed when I get out. Shouldn’t take that long.
She’s relived I’m not fighting her on this. “That all depends on you, but it’s going to be at least 6 months.”
“6 months. You’ve got to be kidding me!” There’s no way I can go for that long, especially without alcohol. “What about the kids? I can’t leave them for that long.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s how this has to
Am. Not. Letting. You. In.” Determined.
“This is my house. You can’t just lock me out”.
“Tough. Because that is what I’m doing. You can’t just come home at whatever time you please, drunk on alcohol and who knows what other drugs you’ve taken”.
“So what. You’d rather I spend the night outside. Would you rather I be passed out in the gutter somewhere and not have any idea where I am”. Honestly, she never considers that this isn’t the worst case scenario. She always acts like it’s the end of the world.
“Don’t you give me that crap! You are bringing your addiction into our home and into our children’s life. You are making this seem like something normal to them. Is that what you want?”
I think I must be a sociopath or something of the sort. The tears have started and Georgia’s voice has gone shrill. I never could handle seeing her cry. Not because I don’t like to see her upset, frankly, it’s just downright annoying. Like I said, I’m probably a sociopath or something.
“Of course that isn’t what I want. And its’ hardly an addiction. I have this under complete control.” Lie.
“You can deny it all you want, but you are not coming in.”
“So what am I supposed to do then huh. Where am I supposed to …show more content…
Though the door was unlocked, there was a suitcase sitting near it. Whether it was for me or Georgia was unclear.
“I’m not even going to bother asking where you spent last night.” I hadn’t seen her sitting in the lounge room, but she stood up when I arrived.
“What is the suitcase for?” No point beating around the bush.
“It’s for you.” Go figure. “There’s a rehab clinic a couple of hours south. They’re able to take you immediately.”
“I don’t need bloody rehab! I’m fine.” Lies.
“Your brother is on his way here now. He’s going to take you there.” I can tell there’s no point arguing. She’s already made her mind up. It’s either this or walk away for good.
“For how long?” It can’t possibly be that bad. Maybe I do need help after all. Just to wean me off the hard stuff. I can get back to the alcohol and weed when I get out. Shouldn’t take that long.
She’s relived I’m not fighting her on this. “That all depends on you, but it’s going to be at least 6 months.”
“6 months. You’ve got to be kidding me!” There’s no way I can go for that long, especially without alcohol. “What about the kids? I can’t leave them for that long.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s how this has to