I know we haven’t been talking much lately although we spend a lot of time together. Despite the silence, I want you to know I’m happy we met and that we’ve spent the last years together as a couple. You’ve played such a big role in my life, I love you, you are the father of my child. I have so many memories of spending time together. Remember hiking in the rain at the Lake together? Despite being terribly lost in a downpour, we managed to laugh and keep our heads together to find our way. Although early in our relationship, I trusted that you wouldn’t let anything happen to us. And you didn’t. I had a lot of fun that day and many others, thanks to you.

I know that you abuse alcohol and drugs as a means to escape. I know that these substances are addictive, and you’ve been using them for a long time to feel better. I know you compare yourself to people you know with much more obvious signs of addiction, using that as a gauge that you are “okay”. I believe that you have an unhealthy relationship with substance use. I believe you know that too and appreciate that you’ve made efforts to cut back, but I think you need more help working through this problem.

I’m sitting on our deck writing this. It’s sunny and warm out. H and I spent the morning alone making muffins, bike riding, water fights and freezies. You went out with K again last night for “a” drink. H keeps asking for you. My heart breaking every time that you are unable to be fun dad today. He so desperately wants to play and connect with you.

You came home late, woke me up coming to bed and kept me up snoring loudly. You always snore like a jet engine when you’ve been drinking. This is a pattern. So much that I start to prepare myself mentally to have interrupted sleep and be a single parent when you announce these “spontaneous” outings for “a” drink with a friend, that I’d be willing to bet aren’t spontaneous at all, that you’ve initiated them instead.

H is napping, you are too. I told you to go back to bed because I was frustrated that you were sleeping on the couch, pretending not to be hungover. That you didn’t just go into the office to throw up, returning with a juice box for Harrison and red-rimmed eyes. If I’m honest, I’m resentful that “a” drink with you doesn’t ever seem to be “a” drink. “A” drink means, “I don’t know my limits. You’re a single parent tomorrow, enjoy!”

You rarely leave a bottle unfinished. I can think of few times you were the designated driver, always preferring to take a taxi or rely on someone else to be responsible. You can’t seem to think of things to do with people that don’t centre around drinking, and if we are doing something it’s almost always the only part of the planning that you can be relied on to contribute without prompting. “I got you something at the LCBO for the weekend”, I wonder sometimes if you believe that. That your trip was for others and not a mask for going for yourself. Or maybe it just sounds better…

I’ve never seen you stop drinking before someone else and you always seem to be the last man standing. You will say that this happens much less than it has in other times in your life, but I worry that you can’t control yourself, you can’t stop, that you can’t enjoy life without binging. I’ve never seen you go more than a couple days without a drink, and I doubt that you could give it up for any length of time without help. I’ve noticed you make more room in your life for people you know who are heavy substance users and have distanced yourself from friends who have pursued sobriety. I wonder if that’s your choice, or theirs. I wonder if that’s another way to continue with the idea that you don’t have a problem.

I worry about you. Even though you are in the house, you are rarely present. I’ve noticed you making more effort lately with H, to talk to him and take him on outings. But your threshold is low, often before he’s asleep you’ve already started into hours of game play. You use the TV constantly to avoid interacting and supervising him, more than you should, so you can play video games, read the news, or whatever else you’re doing that seems to be more of a priority. I go along with it, sometimes because I’m too tired to fight about it. Sometimes because I’m overwhelmed. I wonder if, I wasn’t home, you would be doing drugs or drinking instead. It makes me scared to leave H with you overnight, I would never forgive myself if something happened to him. Lately I also wonder if I wasn’t here if you’d have to examine your substance use, if you had no choice, but it seems like a huge risk with H so small.

One of the reasons I was attracted to you was because you seemed to be interested in a healthy lifestyle. This is something I was actively looking for in a partner. In the beginning, you weren’t the fittest person but we walked together most days and you didn’t drink often. You seemed interested in movement and healthy choices. That changed when we moved in together, you stopped being interested (or pretending to be interested) in exercise and started to retreat. To drink more, to stay up at night to get high and watch movie reruns alone. I noted the red flags, I wanted so much to believe that you were struggling with pandemic and that things would some day return to what they were… coming up to our 5 year anniversary and it still hasn’t. I worry that I will lose you to your lifestyle, and that H will too. I know that if the roles were reversed, you would worry about me too.

I can’t hide that I’m frustrated. I suppose that’s why I’m writing this. I started as an intervention letter, but it seems to be more therapy instead. I guess I’m hoping it will allow me to stay in my lane if you ask me what’s going on. Another sad part is that I don’t trust you with how I feel. You’ve shut me down and rejected what I’m feeling so many times I’m doubting that there’s any path forward. I’m grieving that. It seems the path doesn’t look like I hoped it would. And that’s really sad. I think the only thing keeping me here right now if that I don’t think I can handle the idea of only seeing H part time.

J