A stash in the shed

Today he came home sober. Just like yesterday. But my sense of smell is out of control. I smell alcohol everywhere. Often, I feel like I’m going crazy. So, although everything about him appears sober, I keep asking him why he smells like that, because I can smell it – why can I smell it? What am I smelling? He doesn’t know either.

We’re both trapped in this cat and mouse charade. He seems genuinely puzzled. Then, out of the blue, I say, ‘What’s in the shed? I want to see it now.’ Panic darts across his cheeks. It is so quick, I am not sure it was even there.

Rosie is out of the tub and in her pyjamas. Ben hands me the shed key and carries her downstairs. Outside, I open first one, then another door. It’s the second door that reveals the beer, hidden behind a bucket.

When I ask him why it is there, he has a fool-proof response. ‘I don’t know how long it’s been there. I can’t remember. It’s old – it has to be. I’m not using any more.’

I know I’ve had a look in this shed at a least a couple of months ago, and there was nothing there. I also note that there is a plethora of little blue off-license bags in that shed – where there was only one before. The explanation can only be that he has been sneaking beers for weeks now. This is all it can mean. And yet, his denials are so convincing.

Is this the line I was talking about a few days ago? When do I stand by that line and make him face the consequences?

He is an expert liar.

I find myself attempting to find something positive in this incident.

  1. He willingly handed me the key, even though it is likely he knew what was in there (maybe he was hoping it wasn’t there).
  2. There was only one beer, and it had barely been drunk.

On the other hand, it is also likely that he brought that beer with him and had been sneaking a sip today, whenever he went downstairs to smoke.

My problem is that I can’t identify the line without incontrovertible evidence. Everything has been circumstantial up to now. That’s how he’s looking at it, no doubt. And so am I, because the alternative is too disabling.

 

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8 thoughts on “A stash in the shed

  1. Pingback: Whatever it is, it’s not working « marriedtoalcoholic

  2. Pingback: Lies, lies, lies « marriedtoalcoholic

  3. I completely identify with your inability to identify the line without incontrovertible evidence. I lived that for SO LONG. And he was the master of telling me that I was “crazy.” When living with an addict, we lose our ability to trust our gut instinct. You know what your gut is saying. You don’t need the evidence. It turns out that I was right…about the gambling, about the drinking, about the cheating. But I lived with it for 10 years because I didn’t have more than circumstantial evidence. It turns out that the best evidence is your gut.
    “If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck.”
    Believe in yourself. You are not stupid or crazy. You are in a crazy situation.
    Drinking, not drinking, really doesn’t matter. It’s the lying, not lying, that crushes. And you know that he is capable.

  4. Pingback: Soft return | married to an alcoholic

  5. You are going through exactly what I went through before I left. I left so many times but went back because of the promises. Then finally in 2010 I walked this time for good. I could not take it any longer. I know your story only too well I lived it for 35 yrs. At 57 I still had a chance to have some sort of life.

  6. Pingback: Seven year glitch | married to an alcoholic

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