Killin' me smalls

I have been sucky about blogging and seem to feel like I need to when I'm agitated so here you go... 

The manfolk stresses me out.  I worry about his heath and that he will spiral down back to his old ways (he's on a healthier diet and supposed to be abstaining from alcohol and smoking). He says he's not smoking (I don't always believe him) and he drinks less (that I can tell, but who knows because I work all of the time).

I don't want him to die (again) so I bug him about it, and then I hate myself for nagging.  It sucks.

I just need to come to terms with the fact that he is a grown fucking adult and let him do what he wants.  If the shock and misery of the hospital has worn off and he wants to go back to it, I refuse to enable him, but there is only so much I can do. 

Easier said than done. 

The whole thing pisses me off. 

And he sneaks stuff and thinks I don't notice.  I just get so sick of harping on it, what good is it going to do to bust him on it.  I have a couple times and he denies it, it's heart wrenching for me and useless. 

It just degrades one more layer of trust.  In the long term I'm thinking this may be detrimental, but right now I just don't know what to do about it. 

His life insurance is already maxed out.  Here's hoping I don't need it anytime soon.