at the moment I am feeling a resentment building up with this role that I was asked to take on as GSR.  I have to attend this district meeting once a month and it has been getting in my way lately.  I have stuff that I need to do on Sundays and today I have to drop what I am doing to go and attend this thing.  This means that I wasn’t able to go on the Toronto Zoo day date with Mary Anne like she wanted too.  I feel terrible that I have to do this and not spend the afternoon with her.  But I know that living with this responsibility is part of the program.  Someone has to be there to represent our group and I suppose there are worse things I could be doing.  But today is just a little bit stingy.


I am feeling very accomplished to day.  I have been doing pretty well with the half marathon training.  I managed to get through 13km yesterday.  It felt really bad at the time, but then I looked at the distance and the time and I feel really good about it.  I then managed to get ready and go with Ashley to get a tattoo done.  I am in love with it.  Omri did such a great job with the design and execution of it that I can’t say enough good things about this shop.  This was such a beautiful day.


So we went to see a counselor this week.  The idea behind this was to try to help our marriage.  Our relationship is not good.  Not that we get into fights, but we don’t ever talk and we have absolutely no intimacy.  Which is a problem for both of us.  Mare tends to get upset about things and then bottles stuff up until she gets so upset and resentful that we explode into a big fight.  But this seems to be like once a year or so.  If that….

We had a big fight about her having alcohol in the house after she got back from Niagra-On-The-Lake.  this fight lead to her asking to go to counseling again.  This time I am sober and honest.  Last time it was not good.  I was not honest about what was going on with me.  This time I hope it makes a difference.  The lady gave us a bunch of homework and I have to get moving on it to see if this makes a difference.  Who knows, at the end of all of this if it’s not going to work out, I just want Mary Anne to be OK.  If that means that we have to separate and move on, then that is just how it’s going to have to be.


This weekend Mare is gone on her annual winery tour weekend.  She goes down to Niagra-On-The-Lake for 2 nights and stays with about 10 ladies.  They rent bikes and travel around to a bunch of wineries.  This is one of those weekends that I used to look forward too because I could be alone for a while and I wouldn’t have to hide my drinking.  I am usually OK for the first night but then the committee of idiots in my head start to get rambunctious and I get the stinking thinking going.  Yesterday I started to romanticize the drink.  I started thinking about how it was better back when I could control my drinking.  And of course it was, fuck, back then as long as I had a bottle of vodka I was content.  Or at least I was content until the hangover and remorse kicked in.  I hear lots of people in the rooms talk about how they are glad that they are alcoholic, because it got them into the rooms and recovery and how much better their lives are now.  “Are they fucking nuts?”  I get the part about how my life is better now, but I am certainly not grateful that I am an alcoholic.  Fuck that noise!  Sometimes I am right pissed off at this whole situation.  But I have accepted it.  I am not yet at peace with it, but I have accepted it.

Perhaps I am just in a position where I feel like a lot of stuff is about to come boiling up to the surface.  Mare has arranged for us to go see a therapist on Monday.  I wonder what she is going to say and what I am going to have to react too.  Maybe some stuff is going to come out that we should have dealt with a long time ago.  Like the kids issue.  She still wants them, and I don’t know where I am with this idea.  I’ve had a few days lately where I think it would be great and then I look at my life and wonder how the hell I would manage this responsibility?

Well, fuck it, I am off to yoga.  I am capable, worthwhile and loveable…….

scared shitless

Well, I am freaking out a little bit.  Not because of life or my marriage, or my sobriety, or anything really serious…..well to me it’s serious.  I signed up to run a half marathon.  I don’t even know what I was thinking.  I used to run a lot about 10 years ago.  I have obviously not been running much in the last 5.  I have been going to the gym for a little over a year now and I love it.  In the back of my mind was a goal to get back to running.  EVENTUALLY!  I have been dealing with that broken foot issue and I have been forced to hold off on that goal for quite a while now.  But in the last month or two it’s been feeling pretty good.  I have been running on the treadmill on and off without much pain.  But I think it’s a far cry from doing this damn 21km run.  I can manage 5km on the treadmill (dreadmill), how the fuck am I going to ramp that up to 21km?  Sheesh….am I ever going to learn?  I never make things easy on myself.  I guess I will try to keep posting about my progress.

from bad to worse

Well fuck me sideways, this day has been a complete fucking pile of rubbish.  I woke up feeling good and decided to head into town for my District 8 meeting in Barrie.  Now, Mare and I have not really spoken too much after yesterday’s blow up.  Then I am sitting in the meeting and I start getting messages from her about doing our meal prep.  She then states that “I am going to get some wine”.  Now this is a normal thing to say for some people and in many households.  However, I have not had to deal with alcohol in my house in almost 2 years.  I immediately went into the dark and anxious part of my mind.  How dare she, what is she thinking?  We haven’t even talked about this yet.  That sort of thing…..which may seem irrational.  But this has been a safe place for me for the last 2 years.  There is only ONE place in my life that I can control what is happening around me.  She tells me that she feels like she has to walk on egg shells around me, that she doesn’t feel normal in her own house.

My problem with this situation is that I have been feeling very, very low lately.  I have found myself fantasising about the drink.  I am scared about it a little because I know that this is the first step towards relapse.  It’s almost as if I am planning a relapse.  This is not a matter of will power.  I know that will power has no place in this.  I know that if I take that first one I might as well just off myself.  Because it will be an ugly situation for me.  I am constantly wrestling with my mind that tells me, “you have the ability to have just one, and you can stop, and no one need ever know about it”.  I have that disease of the mind that is telling me that I don’t have the disease.  This has been going on for a few months now.

Now throw in this situation with her wanting to drink wine in the house or on the patio.  She doesn’t seem to think it’s a big deal.  But my problem is that she didn’t think once to talk to me about it.  She just sent me this flippant text message stating that she was doing the one thing that I have asked not be done in the house.  On top of that she thinks I am calling her selfish when I state that she doesn’t seem to care that I am asking for this to be a safe place.  She thinks that I should be over this fear by now.  And she says that she doesn’t trust me enough to talk to me about stuff like this.  But if she had, I would have compromised and said, “how about I take you out for dinner and a glass of wine.”  I just don’t feel ready to have that in the house.

This of course led to her talking about how she has always wanted to have kids, and that her biggest regret is that she hasn’t done that.  (once again, this apparently is my fault, even though this is the first time she has said it me directly….also I am not sure how we got onto this topic)  She says she wants to go back to counseling….she never really went in the first place.  She left it up to me and I have no real desire to go back to that sort of thing.  It’s fucking expensive and we certainly don’t have the money for this right now.  She has racked up her credit card to 21, 000 again.  How in the fuck am I supposed to live like this…..

rollercoaster saturday

So the Burgers with Bill 2 BBQ was a really great afternoon.  I had enough people show up to make it worthwhile.  Lot’s of great fellowship and sobriety there.  It was successful enough that I had people asking me already about doing another one.  Which is a great idea, given that I now have help to get this even off the ground.  Last year it was just me and I stressed myself out enough that I had second thoughts about this one.  This time though I had friends offering to help with bring food and cooking, which made things much easier.

When I left the event to head home I started to get these really crazy messages from Mare.  She sent me a screen capture of some person’s post on Facebook, it was a post about having a room for rent in Wasaga Beach.  The post was up in a group called Angus/Borden buy and sell.  It’s a basically a yard sale group and I browse it frequently.  Actually I would say I browse it more than I actually interact with people on Facebook.  Anyway, apparently in my browsing of this group I accidently responded to the room rental post with “Interested”.  I defenitly did not intend to post that.  I was not actively looking for a room to rent.  It was a honest accident.  When I got home she was really upset, and crying and I tried to explain it.  But she wasn’t listening to me.  She still doesn’t believe anything I say or trust me.  I tried to tell her I was not actually posting it to seek a place to live and I wasn’t looking to move out.  But this brought up another resentment of mine.  I remember when she was looking into selling the house while I was still drinking.  She was talking to a real estate agent behind my back.  I am still pissed off about that.  But she doesn’t believe that she did anything wrong.

It’s been a day full of really great highs and angry bitter lows.  I am frustrated that she shut down and won’t talk about it now.  She doesn’t want to deal with it.  I am really starting to think that I should just rip the fucking band aid off and tell her that this shit is not working, that we need to try something else.