“Dear Husband…” – The letter that closed a grim chapter in this wife’s life

One of our clients received a letter from his wife while he was in a rehabilitation clinic for drug abuse. With their joint permission, we share this letter with you all to shed light on the vast effects substance abuse can have on individuals and families. What started out as a beautiful story of love and hope… eventually became a grim reality.

We ask you to read with empathy as this brave mother pours out her heart to a man she saw gradually disappear right before her eyes… a man she intended to love until death does them part… but ultimately a drug addiction did.

“Dear Husband

This letter is penned with a sense of deep reverence for our shared journey. Our journey that saw so much beauty and joy between the chaos. A journey that was written in the stares. 3 beautiful souls. Many beautiful memories. Many hopes. So many, many dreams.
These were the things I lived for, the things I held on to for so long. So very, very long.

For the longest time I have tried, was 15 years to be exact. Some unfinished business always remained intact. One more strategy to try, one more tear to cry. One more hope to realise. One more situation to chastise.

Between all the good, the gaps grew too long. Between all the lies, I grew so strong. Between broken promises and dreams laid to waste, I learned to find joy in a different place. Not with a man, a food or a fud. I found it in myself. A joy I already had. I just never knew how happy I could be until this nightmare ended and I found that I sleeked. A life not looking over my shoulder not trying to tap love from a boulder.

Your love and devotion were like seeking something of the mythical sort. There were glues how to find it but you could never be caught. Not with tears, not pretty word, not breakfast in bed, hours sleeping late whilst our children’s heart bled.
We made memories whilst murmuring “I wish daddy were here”. To let us believe you were somewhere so near. Somewhere we could find you in-between all the laughter, however that is something we would continue to seek after. We never found you, you weren’t looking for us though. The rocky, barren road you were travelling was so far from us, we couldn’t keep unravelling. We built our own paradise, out in the sun, out on the beach, together we’d run. Away from the aggressive, angry hard done by the beast you had become…. We continued to run and run and run.

I knew something was wrong, something amiss. Something that would never be fixed by a kiss. I asked questions but was silenced with the sound of your voice, load like a lightning bolt, slicing through my heart.

I stopped asking questions just to keep peace. Sharing random ted talks hoping you would read it, maybe a light would switch on. But alas, you were already gone.
I’ve glued the pieces of our family back together somewhat. Nights with our crying 14 years old, disillusioned and angry, sad and depressed of suicide I am weary. She’s strong girl, I know, but her spirits been broken. Another trophy you can have as your token. With counselling and our late-night chats, she is winning much of confidence back. She is rising and will continue to do so for a long time, her happiness I will no longer put on your shrine. Your boys watching YouTube, I realise makes them forget that dad is not still lying in bed or sitting outside chain smoking and reading. It gives them some comfort so, for a time, I leave them. They watch children making videos with their mom and their dad. Remembering something they never had.

Each morning I now wake with a song in my heart. A song of hope, a song for a new start. A song that I sing from the depths of my belly, despite the fact that my will is made out of jelly. It is how I have woken for the longest time wishing that happiness would be yours…now… I’m wishing for mine. I’m living and breathing, despite the uncertainty. Will your parents reject me? I am hurting. They are hurting, have been for so long. This, my dearest husband, is my …. Our swan song.

Today I proclaim I am finally done. Finally done with it all. I know it will be hard, but after this fall, I can’t risk of iron, tied to my wrists, my hands perpetually balled in a fist. Too much water has passed beneath my bridge and I need to build a new one.

I know that my children, our children, will not be at risk. Every child needs a hero. So, I’m stepping up and taking that place. No more insecurity. No more entitled bullshit, No more super sleuthing. No more worrying whether the cares are safe (or whether you care if we live of die). No more stress in our life’s. New stresses will come from my decision, I am, we are happy.

For this, I thank you, as you’ve led me to see how strong I could stand when I needed to be. The only thread holding this home from collapse. I am a warrior woman, ready with her axe. Ready to slice anybody at will who threatens the calm that he has instilled. We are wild and happy and calm as can be. I thank God who has worked magic through me. Given me strength to defeat your abuse of my trust and my love.
The concept is no longer for use.

I will grow and evolve; I hope and trust you will too. But in the meantime. I say goodbye to you. To your tyranny and hard done by attitude to life. Your idea that life owes you is rife. I’m done playing “happy families” with you and don’t care what price. I have to pay for the freedom I am cultivated, I cry sometimes, I do. But in the end, it is a life I begin anew. A life full knowing that we had was something I fought for, every breath that I had.

(With permission of the writer that choose to stay anonymous)”

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