Fear

 “ Whatever I fear the most is whatever I see before me
Whenever I let my guard down, whatever I was ignorin'
Whatever I fear the most is whatever I see before me
Whatever I have been given, whatever I have been”

~Toad the Wet Sprocket

Have you ever been scared to go to the bathroom? 

I have. 

I am right now as I write this.

Sitting on the floor of my boys bedroom while they sleep, my ears carefully attuned to the sounds of the house around and below me. Listening for anything that may indicate that it’s safe to quietly creep out of the bedroom and quickly go to the bathroom. 

If you had ever in my life BA (before alcoholic) asked me if I had ever been scared to go to the bathroom I would have laughed, or at least given you a weird look. What a crazy thing to ask. What a ridiculous position to be in. You just get up and go, right? 

Not if you share a household with an addict. Not if you are afraid that the fragile quiet of the house could be shattered should that addict hear you move. 

Movement is an invitation to attack. 

So I sit and wait for that blessed sound of the bedroom door down the hall clicking closed. That means he has gone to bed and I only need wait a little longer before going to the bathroom. Maybe, I can even sneak downstairs and get something to eat. Dinner escapes me on those nights when I have to get the kids up to bed early and quickly to escape. 

But until that click. I sit on the floor, my five senses alert for any change in the algorithm of the atmosphere.

Things can go from quiet to chaos here quickly.