A journal about my life with a compulsive gambler and drug addict |
I've been watching very carefully. I found evidence, I'm just not exactly sure what it was. I found an old pill bottle with white powder in it. Not coke because there was too much of it. It had to either be baking soda for making crack or crushed oxycodone used for snorting or smoking. At least, I think you can smoke it. Not sure. Either way I'm frightened. He's so thin, his face is pasty colored and his cheeks are so sunk in. A stranger wouldn't recognize a problem but I remember the man I married and this is not him. When I married him every hair on his head had to be in place, he wouldn't leave the house without a shower and he had to look like he stepped out of a magazine. It drove me crazy but it was also part of the reason I loved him. He was also generous, before I came into the picture he would go to the lounge and spend hundreds of dollars in an evening tipping the waitresses and buying his friends drinks. Probably a stupid thing to do but it showed the kindness of his heart. Now, he showers once a week, couldn't care less what he looks like and barely sees his friends. He hangs with a different crowd and lies to me constantly. I see the signs of what's going on, I'm frightened and I feel so helpless. I want to save him but have no idea where to even start. |