Decisions, Decisions

Pride and self preservation:  the only two modes my mind seems capable of functioning in. The only other settings are depression and self pity, obviously not conducive to behaving like a human.

But from the time I wake up until the moment I find myself returning home to a dark empty house, pride and preservation are all I've got.

And yeah, I know, I'm supposed to be praying. And I am, but at the moment, prayer is working as the transition from pity to pride, so, yeah, I'm working on it.

There are a lot of problems with this situation, but the one that worries me the most is that I'm in a position where I have to make a lot of decisions. Important decisions. Decisions that affect me. Decisions that affect my babies. And, in my limited experience, none of my states of mind are good for decision making.

Obviously the biggie is my marriage. To the outside world, it's a simple fix. Divorce him!
Believe me, it's the simplest fix for me too.

And it's not because he's in jail, facing years of incarceration. It's not because he did something too big for me to forgive. It's simply that he has an addiction and that addiction is number one in his life. And if my kids are going to be number two to anybody, it's gonna be to God, not the bottle.

And yes, that's the self-preservation talking.

She's also, in concert with Pride, telling me how stupid it is to stay. "How many chances are you going to give him?" they chide. "Turn up the Sunshine Anderson!" Pride yells to Preservation.

Message received.

"Besides," Self Pity whispers, "You don't have a lot of options."
"Divorce him, or stand beside him. Either way you've failed." Depression just loves pouring salt in my wounds. She's a surprisingly snarky little bitch.

"Hey, what happened to that Eve 'Love is Blind' track?" Pride is really big on musical demonstration.

Between her and Self Pity, the go-to playlist on my cell phone is a mishmash of Lauryn Hill, Adele, Joan Jett and Paramour. -- lot's of 'he done me wrong" songs.

I'm one step away from the very blue Billie Holiday phase I went through in the ninth grade.

But I digress.

My marriage is over and I can't help but think I'm going to have to deal with the spiritual ramifications of  making such a huge decision out of pride and self preservation.

But, again, what other choices do I have.

To be fair. No decisions were made lightly. I looked long and hard at the past five years -- being married to an addict. I talked to counselors, I talked to rehab centers, I did the research and they all said the same thing: Leave or get used to it, because nothing is going to change.

When you're married to an addict who is not ready or willing to attempt at recovery, you have to leave. Tell them you're leaving and then follow through, otherwise, you're stuck.

And I did that. So, yeah, in the back of my mind I'm hoping that someday, he'll be that person who beats his addiction and gets his shit together. But the part closer to the surface ain't holdin' her breath.

I. HAVE. TO. MOVE. ON.
I.MUST. MOVE.FORWARD.
I. CANNOT. GIVE. UP.

That's all that there is to keep me going.

So, yeah, clearly, I'm not the model of a Christian wife and certainly not a 'ride or die' chick.

But at this point, that girl is not going to help me provide for my kids or be an example to them.

So Pride and Preservation it is.