Dear disease;I have a bone to pick with you. I understand now that, for several years before [name deleted] went into recovery, when it seemed like she was saying hurtful and emotionally damaging things to me, it was really you talking. Not just that, but you really were talking to her, not to me. Well, I’ve got to tell you, I have a lot of anger and resentment left over from those years, and now that I know it was you doing the talking, it’s all yours. You found a whole lot of ways to tell me that I suck. You found a whole lot of ways to humiliate and degrade me. You took away my self-esteem and left me with anger, resentment, guilt, shame, and anxiety. You left me afraid to trust my wife and to share my thoughts and feelings with her. Thanks to you, I have not wanted to be emotionally or physically intimate with my wife in years. You drove a wedge between me and my lifetime companion, my equal partner in a marriage covenant based on mutual love and respect. You alienated me from the woman I considered the love of my life. You turned her into an angry, miserable, manipulative control freak, and you used her as your mouthpiece. Thanks to you, the rest of my life is going to be a recovery process.Because you didn’t even have the courage to own what you were saying, I thought it was all coming from her. You f***ing coward! At least other diseases are honest! “Hello, my name is Cancer, and I’m going to kill you or die trying.” “Hi, I’m the Ebolla Virus; I’m not going to die trying, I’m just going to kill you.” But not you. You don’t fight fair. You’re like Osama bin Laden, hiding in a cave somewhere, sending out your powerless, brainwashed minions to do your dirty work for you. Well, screw you. I’m calling you out right now, and putting you on notice. Now that I know what your voice sounds like, I’m not going to listen to you any more. I’m not going to kill myself trying to please you. Go ahead and tell me I suck; I don’t care what you think of me. Tell me I’m worthless, or that I’m a bad husband; I know better. This is the last letter you’ll ever get from me. This is the last time I will ever talk to you. I have a life to live, and I’m taking it back now. From now on, the focus of my recovery is going to be on me, not you. I can’t make you go away, but you no longer control my life. It’s over.Sincerely,Tre© 2010 by Babastu All Rights Reserved Babastu