I knew/know codeine is not a muscle relaxer. My eyes narrowed and my back “got up”. I carried the bottle to him and said “explain. NOW.”
He shrugged and said “That’s codeine. What the doctor prescribed for when my back goes into spasm and it won’t stop.”
He could tell I was upset, and I was doing my level best to not yell/scream/storm off. He is not my first husband, he deserves the opportunity to explain.
(My first husband The Addict would take two vicodin and go to work. He was a gen-u-wine joy to live with.)
He went on to tell me that he only takes a half, when he “needs” it. The days that he “didn’t mean to” stand me up? were days spent in bed because the drug knocked him out.
I couldn’t keep the emotion out of my voice – my words were well-placed weapons designed to skewer, to wound, to flay. I’ve already BEEN with one addict, I’m not *going* to be with another, this is NOT codeine, it’s vicodin, it’s very addictive and THE FACT THAT YOU’RE TAKING IT BOTHERS ME A LOT. The fact that you’ve stood me up not once but twice on this stuff SAYS a lot about you.
He shrugged, helplessly. There is nothing to do. He has a legitimate prescription, I’m not going to count pills (again), if I want to be with him I’m just going to have to trust.
I left him standing there.