Cam at Ruby Beach, WA.
I am always in a bad mood, I am always ornery or stressed out or sad or upset or crying. I cannot remember a day in this journey where all I did was just smile all day. It’s always be mad, cry, smile, be mad again. I blame Cam, I really do. He says it’s my choice. It’s my choice to cry, its my choice to be upset.
Which is true, but I cry because he has spent our last 20 dollars on heroin instead of food. I get upset because he’s high a 3 am and wants me to stay up and watch movies with him and cuddle and have sex but I work the next day. I am always ornery because if he’s not high and I want to cuddle he tells me to go away and stop bugging him because he feels sick. I get mad because I need a new pair of glasses, I am to the point where my depth perception is off because my prescription is so old, and he says we don’t have money for that. Yet in February he spent over $1,000 on heroin.
Today is my last day as a volunteer, I got another job lined up for us in Colorado. He is already trying to get out of working there. He is saying I could work there for our spot, and he will go look for a job at the nearest city. I am stressing out, because we have to drive home first get the trailer looked at first and then go to our next spot. I just don’t think that’s gonna go as smoothly as it should.
I know that this is an abusive relationship, I have tried to talk to him about it and he denies it. That alone tells me that I am right. He doesn’t beat me, he doesn’t yell or shout at me, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel abused. His addiction always comes first. We rotate around him and his needs for heroin. He manipulates me, he lies to me, he’s not romantic. When I act silly, he gets mad, he can act silly because he’s high, I can’t because I’m sober.
Yet, despite all that. It’s my fault. Because I’m the one that stays. Because I’m the one that doesn’t just kick him out and let him fend for himself and let him get home however he can. It’s my fault because I’m the one that is not strong enough to say no, I’m the one that let’s him get to me and my emotions.
I keep thinking that it will get better once we get out of this tiny rainy town, he did great last summer. We are pretty sure he has that seasonal depression thing, and this place doesn’t help with that because it is always so grey. So we keep thinking once he is in a warmer, dryer place and he can start all his climbing, running, hiking, biking, etc.. he’ll be better. Last winter he started to get bad too, but the summer he did good. So maybe this time it’ll be the same? Then I will find a job somewhere like Arizona or California where the weather is always a bit warm and sunny.
I keep telling myself to just wait, to be patient, to be okay. I’m just so sad. And scared.