Hey, it's cool, have another.

Barf.
Sometimes I just can't stand this gross life thing. When you're a kid, everything is awesome, your worst part of your day, ironically now, is the nap your mother has to force you to take.
Then BOOM. Adult.
Death.
Death of friends.
Death of family.
The realization that you will soon have to watch your mom and dad get super old and die. That YOU will die. I will die.
When did I sign up for this bullshit? I don't recall ever being asked.
So, as you read in my last post, my husband and I decided to get off birth control and try to get pregnant. I was worried that I wouldn't be a good mother. I am worried I won't be a good mother.
I am at a cross roads.
My husband is an alcoholic.
Personally, I can deal with it. I HAVE been dealing with it for years now and, in my opinion, fairly well. I plan on dealing with it, sadly, for a long time.
Which brings me back to the statement about getting signed up for this crap? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I didn't sign up for being married to an alcoholic. I knew damn well what I was getting into. What I'm saying is who am I to go signing someone else up for this?
Do I really give up my dream of having a family because my husband can't control himself? Is that where I've landed?
It's not fair. It just isn't. My heart is breaking. For me, for my mom and dad who want a grandbaby so badly, for my husband who I fear, will realize he decided a long time ago to be selfish when it's too late.... I wish someone could just tell me what to do. Tell me the future. Tell me that I wouldn't have been a good mom anyway and that this is the best route anyway.
No one's talking though. It's just me and my thoughts, biting my bottom lip so I don't cry.
And it's too bad that the only outlet I feel won't judge me is a fucking blog.
It's not that I don't have anyone to talk to about it, because I do. It's embarrassing, and that sucks to say. How could I be embarrassed of this man? He's the greatest man I've ever met besides my own father. He treats me with respect. He loves me so fiercely, so thoroughly. He lives for me. He provides for me. He makes me laugh. He makes me feel beautiful. He doesn't judge me. He builds me up. He is strong for me.
But he doesn't love me as much as he loves his booze. And that my friend, is a statement that cuts me to the very core. It's an insult. I'm jealous OF A BOTTLE. How the fuck did I get HERE?
Sigh.
Thanks for listening.