A few years ago, my husband handed me a letter. I had been used to getting love letters from him over the span of our relationship so I didn’t think twice about it.
My stomach dropped. Nervous tension started creeping up from my legs and then flowing throughout my body.
The letter was about his struggle with alcohol, and he had decided to go to outpatient therapy for addiction.
I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I didn’t even suspect it.
Are you wondering how I wouldn’t know? Yeah, I’ve asked myself that question many times.
He didn’t come home drunk and he didn’t drink a bunch in front of me. A few beers while doing yard work (I just figured this was normal).
During the work day, he’d sit in his truck and drink. His office staff knew and so did his family.
No one thought to tell me…
I was blind-sided. I should have known or at least suspected it.
My face was covered in egg. Embarrassment was an understatement.
I was also mad, frustrated and hurt.
Being left in the dark was the biggest pain.
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