His anger grew, manifesting as ugly words and sometimes rough physical interactions. The reality was slowly starting to shine its way through to me, but I continued in my stubborn refusal of acceptance. I mean after all it wasn’t always bad. There were many times where we laughed, interacted with our son, he showed affection and apologized for his brutish behavior. “I am so sorry,” and “I won’t do it again,” quickly became familiar phrases. We were struggling financially despite him having a good paying and stable job. Hundreds and hundreds, adding up to thousands were being thrown away towards his prescription pill addiction. I kept making excuses whenever I was questioned why we were always broke and needing help with groceries or gas money.
