I have been married for 30 years. I got married, I can’t even articulate why. My husband-to-be fell in love and with his onslaught, you could even say, forced me to agree to the proposal. The young man threw everything at my feet.
Here is just one episode. He decided to throw me a birthday party at a restaurant. It was winter, and my future husband asked me to wear only shoes and a fur coat. I didn’t understand why not wear boots? When I came out of the front door, there was a limo in front of me (like you order for a wedding) and a red carpet from the door to the car. It is not customary in our family to show feelings and emotions. The word “love” equals “duty.” I can’t even tell if I loved my husband at the time. But I didn’t hesitate and at 22, I got married. I really did, after six months of dating. My parents did not express any emotions, opinions, did not give advice, did not talk to my husband-to-be, did not give him any tests. If you wanted to get married, go ahead.
After about a year serious problems began to surface. It turned out that my husband is a big drinker. And always with too much. I was shocked. But in my youth I hoped that I could change my husband. We talked, negotiated, he held on, then he snapped. I didn’t know what to do, divorce? But my parents somehow reacted sourly to my stories, didn’t really want to take me back. I had a schoolgirl sister living in my room and everyone was happy for me to live somewhere else. So I decided to wait it out.
My husband tried to limit himself in some way, but then there was a feast at work, then friends, etc. Friends-friends began to tell me that my husband always drank a lot, then one girl dumped him, then another because of drinking. At the same time my husband made very good money and treated me (except for the drinking) very well. He never forbade me to go out with friends, did not spare money for anything, forgave me everything – caprices, laziness, lack of breakfast, dinner, unwashed dishes, untidy apartment, any wishes, just expressed, were fulfilled. I understood that no one would treat me that way. But the drunkenness really annoyed me.
Eventually I decided to get divorced after all, but I found myself pregnant. There was nowhere to go. My husband was happy. For a while he lived a sober life, but when my son was 2 years old my husband started to get that wave again. The last straw was when, drunkenly, he threw a couch cushion at his son, knocking him down, and his son hit a jamb and got a bump. I packed up and left in the middle of the night for my mother’s house. A few days later I came back to check on my husband and found him already half-conscious. I had to call a druggist for money and bring him to his senses. For two weeks I sat by his side. When he came to his senses, I announced the divorce. But my husband literally threw himself on his knees in front of me and swore that he would get over himself.
We postponed the divorce, but I stayed with my mother. My husband came over, was sober, played with my son, went for walks, but went back to his place. After six months he invited me and my son back to his place, and we went to explore. During those six months my husband completely made repairs, furnished with new furniture and this in the years when there was nothing on sale. But he is very active and could get anything, and his earnings were decent, and from the basement you could get everything. Everything new, everything from scratch. We agreed that the first drink was a divorce. I was wary of any delays he made, business trips, fishing trips, etc. for a very long time. It wasn’t until 3 years later that I was able to somehow trust him again. And we decided to have our second child.
And so, when the youngest was 4 years old, my husband began to drink slowly again, and more and more each time. When he was drunk he began to bring up the eldest, the son was rude, withdrawn, my husband was difficult to calm down. I endured for a very long time, we even bought a one-bedroom in the suburbs, but my patience broke, and I was about to start talking about a divorce (the elder was already in college), as my husband looked straight into his eyes and said: “Please don’t betray me. I live because you are there. How much pain was in his look. It became clear to me that he alone no way he can not cope, just drank a couple of years.
But then my children came forward. The older son was already an adult, he stopped communicating with his father from the word go, despite the fact that he lived with us under the same roof. Called his father a wimp, and even when we offered his son to go to rent (even in part at our expense), he said that our opinion does not interest him, he has the right to live here and will do as he thinks fit. Later he was joined by the youngest. At first they ignored my husband, his requests, demands, and then they started treating me the same way. When I started shaming them, reminded them of the Biblical story about Ham, that they were living at our expense, at the expense of their father (my husband, even having this vice, was highly valued at work, and he earned a lot of money), they also told me that they did not respect me, that I tolerated such a worthless man, and that if I divorced, they would be happy for any new adequate man.
After these words my husband stopped communicating with both of my sons altogether. The older one decided to get married some time later and his conscience allowed him to ask me, behind his father’s back, for money for the wedding. I, of course, refused. The invitation to the wedding looked like this: “Well, come if you want. We, of course, did not go. The youngest is softer, a few years I put, at least somehow to establish communication with his father, but they communicate limited. In the absence of his brother you can still explain something to him, but as soon as he goes to the older one, he becomes insane. My eldest had twins, they are 2 years old now, and we don’t know them and haven’t even seen a picture of them. I wanted to reconcile with my eldest son, but my husband forbids me to even think about it, he says you should not let such people into your life, even if they are your son. And my eldest son once said that I betrayed them, I chose my husband over my children, and what kind of mother am I if I chose a man?
I feel very nervous, I cannot sleep. I cry often, I want so much to reconcile everyone, to unite, at least to see my grandchildren. How to behave with my youngest not to lose him, I am trying to persuade my husband to be more patient with him. By the way, my husband for a few years almost does not drink, he goes to church, fasts, tries, I do what I can to support him, even pretend that a glass with him to raise, bite, and I poured it quietly, so my husband did not see.
As best I could, told my life story. I would like to get a second opinion. Would you look for a way to reconcile with your son? Or is this the end of the relationship altogether. My friend says that as long as my husband is alive, there is no way to make up, and then I would be under a lot of pressure, and my son would take it out on me for everything.
