For a while I felt like I had lost my husband.  I am not quite sure where he had gone, or exactly when I had lost him.  I kept searching and searching for my lost love, but he had been replaced by a man who looked just like my husband – but was not him in the slightest.  The longer I would look at him or hear his voice the more and more he started to seem like a stranger.  He really didn’t look like my husband after all.  He was angry all the time and had no laughter or love in his eyes.  He no longer sounded like my husband, all he did was yell and cuss and say nasty things.  I no longer cared if he spent almost all evening outside in his shop.  I would eat all my meals alone, I would watch TV and movies alone.  Sometimes I even fell asleep in an empty bed.  I would wake up in the middle of the night and find him passed out and snoring in my husband’s chair.

Every once in a while, my husband would show up.  He would laugh, smile, hug me and say he loved me.  I would have these glimmers of hope that maybe, just maybe he was coming back to me.  These glimpses of my husband, who was trapped inside the mind of this bully that was living in my home were getting shorter and shorter.  It was like there was this evil twin side to my husband and he was taking over.  Like a Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde thing, the longer he drank the potion (beer) to become Mr Hyde, the longer and longer the effect would have.  I had feared that if too much time had passed that I might never see my Dr Jekyll (hubby) again.  The names he would call me, the things he would yell while we were having a fight were horrific.  I am not sure when I lost my spine, but the second he would start yelling, it would run away like a smacked dog, leaving my to stare at him with a blank look on my face.

I didn’t dare say anything that could set him off more, I never thought he would do anything to directly cause me harm, but he had admitted that when he got upset enough he would black out.  Most of the time after he got it all off his chest he would hold me and I would cry.  He would promise never to do it again and life went on very nice and happy for a while.  Last spring He broke his hand during a drunken moment of bad judgement.

For almost a month after that he had not touched a single drop of alcohol.  I was so proud, YES – see he can do this.  What I failed to see at that time was that he was taking the pain killers the Dr had giving him.  He didn’t need the alcohol, the pain killers were doing the trick of making him numb.  So when the pain meds ran out and the cast came off, he started to drink again.  But this time it was much slower and he was calmer about it.  I thought, ok see, no big deal.

To be continued….

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