Addiction - Cancer of the mind 2

I met a friend online who was interested in the same things I was. Who accepted me as myself and listened to all my whining. This friend encouraged me to do what I felt was right. They let me know how they felt about things, but they supported my decision. I fought constantly with my husband about this friendship.

Finally, I found a twelve step program that did not have a bunch of rules attached to it. I could cuss if I wanted. I could speak for longer than five minutes. I found choices for the first time in my life.

I discussed these things with my online friend. I talked about everything with them because they did not seem real to me. At times, I thought they might actually be God. Yeah, I know. My head was really messed up. I know they are not God, so don't worry. I am okay!

The responsibility of choices was laid on my shoulders for the first time and I could not take it. I was responsible for my husband and all the choices he made because he was not capable of seeing beyond his own addiction. Nothing changed in that area. I was changing. There was something inside me rising up and it was tearing me apart. I was determined to do God's will and stay married, but I could not survive my husbands treatment of me. Something had to change.

I finally came to the conclusion that God would have to forgive one, or lose both. However, I did not have the strength to leave on my own. I had already been estranged from my family, my friends, my church, my life. I had no where to go and no one to help.

I found several bottles of out of date pain pills. They were at least two years out of date. I knew they would be poison by now. I grabbed a 2 liter of soda out of the nearly empty fridge and I sat down on the floor. I poured all the pills out of the their bottles.

The phone rang. I had to get it before it woke up my husband. I raced into the bedroom and snatched off the nightstand.and put it in my pocket. Then, I went back into the living room. There I looked at the phone to see who would be texting so late.

I looked at the words and my knees buckled. What the hell?

"Are you okay?" it asked.

It was from someone at the twelve step meetings. This person did not seem to care about anyone but themselves. He seemed to enjoy giving others pain and misery. Why was he texting?

I texted that my husband was sleeping. Then turned to face the pile of pills once more. I picked one up and dropped it when the phone went off again.

I was mad now. What the hell?

"Ok. Are you okay?"

"Of course, I'm always ok."

"You seemed more than a little upset at the meeting."

As if you care? Why are you bothering me?

"Not any more than usual."

"I don't believe you."

Is this guy for real? He jumped down everyones throat if they spoke of anything that wasn't some kind of gratitude. He wasn't any better than those church people. He doesn't really care, he must be bored or something.

"What are you doing?"

"Worrying about you."

"Why?"

"You seemed upset at the meeting."

"Why do you care?"

"I just do."

"I don't believe you."

"That's okay. You don't have to. Are you okay?"

"No. I am not okay. If you had been listening at the meetings for the last several months you would know I am not okay. If you cared even a tiny bit you would know that I am not okay."

"What can I do to help?"

What?!? Why would he want to help? What was his angle? Who was he trying to fool?

"Nothing."

"We can talk, if you want."

"Not really."

"We can text, if you want."

I looked at the pills. What would my children think if they had to come to my funeral because I committed suicide?

"I am getting tired."

"I don't beleive you."

I got up and looked out the windows. Was he watching me? There was no one around. No cars, no people, nothing.

"So?"

"I can't force you to accept my help. The offer is there, if you want it."