I was tired today. Slept in, When I woke, I realized the sun was brilliantly shining on me from where I passed out on the couch.

Today. I'm packing up the last of my hubbies stuff, I'll be driving him tomorrow to where he's staying while fishing. It's mixed feelings. I'm going to miss him, but also, I'm secretly happy that I'm going to have the freedom to do whatever I want this summer. It'll probably be the last summer I get before we have kids, which I'm excited for... but I'm also excited to do my own thing for the last time.

My anxiety has gotten better since the weekend. I'm becoming more settled with the change that's coming. It was more the anticipation, knowing it was almost here, but know I had another week before things went into motion. I don't know why it hit me so hard this year, he goes away every year at this time, maybe it's because I know what to expect now. I don't handle separation well, but he handles it even worse. I keep assuring him, that once he's back on the water, he'll be happy and excited to be doing another season. He's saying what he did last year.... this is my last season, I'll go logging again. I really hope he's going to follow through this time. I'd hate for him to give up one of his dreams, simply because of a freak accident when he was younger.

I understand PTSD, and why he has resisted going back. I tried last year to send him to his psychologist (off island... it's expensive to send him away) and he went... but he ended up doing a whole bunch of blow and ketamine with his brother after he visited with him... which under minded any progress he would have made talking to his doctor... he came back Manic, hyper, un grounded. It pissed me off, because his mom was there the whole time and didn't say anything to the boys, in fact encouraged them to party around. I had him call me at 8 in the morning on day two, talking in whispers that he was hiding from his brother outside his apartment.

I had to deal with the aftermath. His mom just sent him back to me. I use to talk to her all the time, but now, I haven't talked to her in months. I'm pretty sure she feel guilty. But who am I to assume I know what she's thinking.

I don't like to talk $#%^ about my man. I love him, dearly. I understand that his current drug addiction stems from how much Morphine they put it under when he lost his eye. I also know I can't fix him. He needs to get help. He's been trying to stop partying for awhile, but with old friends and acquaintances with an extra half in their pocket convince him its a good idea, he feels its the only way he can interact with them socially. He's so afraid of people hating him... and judging him. The problem with him doing drugs, is it takes way less than the average person for him to be buggered for days. He goes into a deep depression everytime. I'm just thankful he never smoked crack.

It's difficult for me, because I'm far too understanding, most of my girlfriends would lose their $#%^, but I've loved addicts my entire life. My uncles and aunts all did Heroin, they weren't bad people, but they also never shook it.

My hubby asked me one day what would happen if we had kids and he started doing drugs real bad. I told him, I'd take the kids and leave him until he figured his $#%^ out. I still stand by that. I wonder if me wanting kids with him at this point is me making an ultimatum. I married the man because I know he'll be able to teach my kids how to fish and hunt and run chainsaw, he'll teach them about the land... I aint stupid though... I know having kids with him may not change his drug behaviour. I dunno. I'm rather confused about the whole thing.

I apologize if my logic behind this post is flawed. I'm enjoying writing, I'm finding it very therapeutic, even if nobody reads it.

But... more therapeutic will be if I get out into the sun and tend to my strawberry plants They're blooming! Along with the Currents!! Oh I love summer!