The painful truth about making my life public is the mixture of response I receive. Most readers are very supportive. Thank you. I love you. I am so very touched by the prayers and well-wishes.
But every now and then, someone feels the need to kick me when I'm down. This message is for that "anonymous" someone. (Psst... never leave an anonymous comment when you're logged into a social media account. I know who you are. *kisses*)
Keep kicking. Your hate makes me stronger.
You may think you know something about me. You don't. You know nothing. You are so wrapped up in your own mess, you fail to notice me.
My posts this week are not malicious. They are simply a therapeutic way to voice my pain. And it's MY PAIN. I can be as public as I want these days. I have nothing to hide. I have no reason to remain quiet. I was foolish to be embarrassed by Jack's drinking and stupid to think hiding his problem protected him. I should have shouted it from the mountain tops years ago.
There is something very unsettling in a comment made anonymously. And while I don't owe anyone an explanation, I find I have something to say. Jack does not have a new woman. I have not lost my mind over the fact that he began a brief, sexual relationship with someone else. I couldn't care less about that. It is his choice in partner that worries me to my bones.
Jack is an addict. He chose to bring another addict into his life. Perhaps you don't see the danger in this. Perhaps you are ignorant. I can accept that. But I know all too well the danger of it.
Example: Jack is a smoker. Awhile ago, we both quit for an entire year. On his birthday, we stupidly decided to buy a pack of cigarettes to split while out with friends. I was able to continue to be a social smoker every now and then. (And I have since quit... 4/1/2015) Jack was immediately back to a pack or more a day. Jack is an addict.
If Jack sits on a bar stool every day or hangs out with drinkers in his free time, he will eventually take a drink. Ask him. He admits this. His brain will tell him one beer won't hurt. And then the next time, he will have a few beers. And then the next time, maybe some vodka. And then he will die. The father of my children will die if he drinks again. Let me repeat that in case you fail to recognize the seriousness of his disease: THE FATHER OF MY CHILDREN WILL DIE IF HE DRINKS AGAIN.
So, dear Anonymous Reader, do you think I am fighting over some woman? No. I am fighting for my children. You know them, Anonymous. I thought you cared about them. But in case you have forgotten, they are amazing and they deserve to know their father. A sober father.
I love them more than life. I will do what it takes to make sure they have everything they need. For a long time, I did it alone. Jack is clean and he is working on sobriety. If I have to upset his life, meet his lies with truth, or hit him in the face (that happened) to help him see the danger in his decisions, that is what I will do. Over and over and over again. My conscience is clean.
Thank you for bringing up things that were resolved years ago. It reminds me how far the rest of us have come. You paint an unjustified and ugly picture of me to readers who have no idea what you are writing about. You help me remember me: a revival of my former, glorious self. Thank you. The Bitch is Back.
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