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He was to the point where he was pissing and shitting the bed so much that it soaked through to the box spring.
When we cleaned out his stuff, we didn't have a good way to get rid of the mattress and box spring. So we took it to a nearby apartment complex dumpster and left it next to the dumpster because it wouldn't fit inside.
It sat out there forever. For like two months. Someone moved it behind the dumpster eventually, and then it was finally taken away.
I can just imagine people at that complex trying to figure out which of their neighbors was shitting the bed that much. "Oh I bet it's number 57, that nasty lady." "I think it came from that guy in 64."
Yeah I cope with this trauma darkly, what do you expect lol
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I'm so sorry you had to go through that.
Maybe I'm further down the line than you but I just feel really sad for your husband.
To live in that much pain that addiction that you drank yourself to death. It's an ugly thing. I know the anger you feel can last there for years. It's complicated grief.
I can't go near alcohol or even the smell of it. So sorry.
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