The Excuses

Yes, it would be really easy to rant and rave over the excuses I received from my alcoholic husband for years and just go off on a spiral of negativity. But I’m not here to do that. I’m here to talk about the excuses I made. Me. Not him. 

Sure I made a whole lot of excuses for my husband, but he never asked me to do that. He could care less whether anyone knew he was hungover and just needing the day to sleep it off. No, I made the excuses. I did the covering up. I was the pretender, just trying to make it through another family event with people asking me where he was.

My family is close. We always have been. Some see their distant cousins once every few years. We all try to catch up regularly. So when my husband isn’t there by my side, the questions start coming.

“Awe, he couldn’t make it. Did he have to work today?”


“Is he working on the house? Mowing the yard?”


“Is he doing some other noble thing? Something for a good cause? Anything that really matters?”

Nope…(he’s just sleeping it off.)

I didn’t want to lie. Believe me. I wanted to scream from the rooftops, “He’s in bed sleeping it off because he stayed up too late drinking again with his buddy Miller Lite!”

But I couldn’t. I would just say “Oh he’s just really tired so he’s trying to rest up for next week.”

Some people saw right through it. Others were just trying to make small talk. My mom and dad knew, that’s how parental intuition works, right?

I think some people thought “Oh, they must be having problems. Maybe they’re separated?” 

This would have been almost easier to say out loud. “Yes, we’re having problems and we’re giving each other space.” But that wasn’t the case. 

I was ashamed that my husband didn’t want to spend time with my family, but I was terrified he really just didn’t want to spend time with me.


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