Courage and Gratitude

25/05/24

I’ve been thinking about courage, and the different ways it can manifest.

The ex used to say I’d saved his life by getting him to see that it really was alcohol killing off his family one by one – four of them in a few years, another lining up to be next, at least three more flirting with the possibility.

By doing that, I helped him realise that if he didn’t stop soon, he’d be taking his place in that queue. 

I may be taking away the only thing he ever had any real gratitude towards me for, but I didn’t save him at all.  I might have been a catalyst, which started the process, but he was the one who actually did it. 

Of all the things he could have given me credit for, I never wanted that to be ‘the one’.  All I did was to believe in him and stick by him.  He did the actual work necessary to conquer an addiction and I will forever respect him for having the courage to do that. 

I wanted him to feel proud of himself for what he’d accomplished, not burdened by some perceived debt to me.  I find it deeply insulting that he’s recently intimated it was only that ‘debt’ keeping him in the marriage for quite some time.

I also find it odd that the ex would have chosen to feel debt and resentment towards me, rather than taking pride in himself. Although, I suppose, with his own lack of self-confidence it shouldn’t be that surprising.

The only reason for recounting that tale is that it’s the single act of courage from him that I can recall from the entirety of our relationship.

However, in the spirit of being all grown up about this, I ought to acknowledge that he did show similar courage at the end, in breaking out of the misery spiral of our marriage by leaving.

The way he did it was disgustingly cowardly, callous and cruel, but that’s just how he is, so….

Despite knowing at gut level that my marriage was a shit show, I didn’t have the courage to walk away. I nearly did once, but then he stopped drinking so I gave him ‘one more’ chance.

By the end, I was too deep in my emotional addiction to him, too stripped of confidence, to be able to walk away, even though I was lonely, and miserable, and anxious, and fearful ALL the time.

It was only him leaving that lead me to full realisation and understanding of the emotional abuse I’d been subjected to. That, in turn has lead to where I am now. Where I am now is a better space, MUCH better. Better than ever before in my entire life.

So, while the recognition of his brief display of courage is grudgingly there, the gratitude comes much easier.

I’m really, genuinely, grateful he left.

Unlike the ex, and my own previous self, I’m feeling some pride in my own subsequent courage and achievements.

I don’t want to seem trite, and I know some people would object to me classifying it this way, but I believe I am kicking an addiction. The ex’s addiction was physical, whereas mine has been my unhealthy, obsessive, emotional attachment to him.

I’ve been courageous enough to find a way through the utter mess he left me in, on all levels – inner self, physical self, and home.

Despite his continued displays of thoughtlessness and cruelty, I’ve steadfastly refused to let him keep me in old patterns. I’ve had the courage to face truths and make changes.

I’ve had the courage to keep climbing this mountain, even when I keep slipping and every fibre of me has been screaming to just stop, lay down, give in.

On top of that, slowly, slowly, I’m becoming the more that I promised to myself all the way back in January.

Back then, I was kinda just hoping I’d be able to keep that promise; now I believe I will.

JP