That Which Ought Not To Be (5)

Life is a wonder sometimes. How can this be happening? How can I be in this situation. I, the wife of a Pastor? What will they say? What was I thinking? It was simple really. I was thinking about loneliness. I was thinking about emptiness. I was thinking that, right then, at that moment, I did not care what I was thinking. It just felt so good. Even if it was only for a moment. It provided an escape. It made me feel OK again. I didn’t care if at the end of it all, once the feeling was over I felt lost. I did not care. I just relished the moment. Lost could wait.

People never tell you that sometimes life is not really always black or white. At least no one told me. Fred was never meant to become a pastor. In fact, he always shied away from any church activity that brought attention to himself. I was the one that encouraged him. Even prayed about it. I was the one that wanted him to be a true Man of God. If only I had known what that really meant. And the worst bit is that its not even his fault. He did not anything wrong. He only became what I had spent countless nights praying about. Even fasted for……I am the one that could not step up to the plate I had placed in front of my husband. I was the one that began to dabble into that which I ought not dabble into. I was the one that sought relief from the empty life of being a pastor’s wife as I was faced with the truth that I was not really a true woman of God. Somewhere I had missed it. And I could not hack it.

The really bad things usually start off very innocent don’t they? Just that one glass of wine. Just the one! I was tired and lonely that night. I was weighed down by all the emptiness my life as a pastor’s wive had become. I was overwhelmed by this position I had been thrust into as the first lady of a church. It was so hard trying to be this person, this paragon, this, this….perfect picture of holiness. It never occurred to me that no on was asking me to be THAT. No one expected me to be holy like that. Well, it did not matter, I did. I expected me to be holy like that. And it has finally driven me to that place I ought not be in. That place where reality blurs and false things begin to twinkle. Fears and sorrows ebb away steadily carried on the deceitful wings of spirits. Spirits that flow into my being, my system as I sip them from a sparkling wine glass.

Yes, I, a pastor’s wife, had become an alcoholic.

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