Am i strong enough?

I told my friend some of what happened last night, and he posed the question "Are you strong enough to stick it out?" Well, here's the full story... you tell me.

I started work at 4. i LOVE my job, i work in a photo lab. Yesterday being 75+ degrees outside, i got to stock the cooler. Not all in all a bad day. Until about 7pm, when the manager told me to shut down photo. An hour early... not a bad thing. Just odd. Once photo was shut down, i was running all over the store. Sweeping, mopping, re-shelving, standing on tip-toes, squatting, etc. My feet HURT. But i knew i got off at 11, i'd go home and rest, i'd be okay. 11:00pm... still stocking. There are 4 of us, this should go faster. 11:15... facing items, making the store look nice. 11:30... counting and signiing cash counts. 11:45... finally we can go. The other 2 girls and I are dragging our feet. Poor Nikki went running before work, then got stuck with an 11 hour shift! I felt sooo bad.

I get in my car just in time for my phone to ring. Its Mike. He's probably worried about me, i'm late. When i answer all i hear is LOUD LOUD music and some girl going "We miss you!" I hang up. I know he's at the bar, and i DO DO DO NOT want to go. I head home. As i pull in the parking lot, i get a text. "If you dont get here now i will drive home and get you." This is not a physical threat, he knows i hate to even think of him driving drunk. I call him and tell him im in my uniform. He makes some sexual remarks and hangs up. Well, maybe me in uniform will get him out that much quicker. I head to the Performance. I pull up, pop my trunk to get my wallet and see a shirt. I take off my work vest and throw on the shirt; im halfway decent now. Start walking to the bar and my feets are SCREAMING. One foot in front of the other... ill put my feet up inside. All of a sudden "PUT YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!" And im tackled against a pillar. Mike. Brilliant move, considering i had a panic attack last week. Lets test this heart, shall we, dumbass? He's laughing, smiling, helps me to my feet. Here comes his friend... i cant remember her name. Usually he calls her the-fat-one-you-know-Georges-girlfriend? What a name, huh? But he's hanging on her, KISSING HER!!! Its her birthday. (that makes it okay???) She's the karaoke hosts girlfriend. (THAT makes it okay???) Im seeing red.

Make it inside, the bartender knows me. This is sad, really. But she already has my water ready. What a gal. We make it to the table, and mike starts dancing. I relax, loosen up a bit, put my feet up. About an hour later, he's well past soused, and wants to go gamble. I cant keep my eyes open, so i tell him im going home. Fine, he'll drive. So he walks outside. I start to go after him; my feet dont cooperate. I have to lean against the wall, which makes a few people ask if im okay. This slows me down, too. By the time i get to my car, Mike is gone. I get in my car and debate going home or the casino... I throw my radio into high volume and head to the Ironhorse. He's standing outside, cause he knows me and knows i wont let him drive drunk again. We go inside and he uses the restroom. I sit down at the table and put my head down. Headache, feetache, angry, and tired. Not the best combo. I try to relax. Few minutes later, Mike touches the back of my neck with his ice cold drink. I jump, and he's lucky i didnt spill it on me. I would have killed him. We sit at the table for a few while he moans about his life. Then he has another drink. Then we hit the blackjack tables. Starts off with 20 dollars, as usual. An hour later, he's up 60. And still drinking. And getting louder. I go off and sit by the wall so i can rest my head. I guess its against the rules to actually put your head down on the table- they'll think you're drunk and ask you to leave. So i just sat there, watching. An hour (and 3 more double rum on the rocks) later, its last call. This means we're gonna leave. He calls me over to hold his place so he can use the bathroom. I count, he's up 135.00! Not too bad. He comes back and i tell him i am gonna sit in my car. He'll be out in a minute, i know. I got to my car at 2:05, he was up 150 dollars. When he knocked on my window at 2:30 to tell me he lost it all i thought he was kidding. But he started kicking my car, so i knew he was serious. I told him to get in, lets go home. He starts screaming at me- he brought his car, he'll drive, just go home. You know what? Fuck it- i did. I left him standing in the parking lot. He made it home 20 mins later.

I made the bed as hes crawling around moaning about he lost his baby's money. He's sick and his life sucks. He cant live if i leave him. He cant breathe. he's sick. I stay quiet. He crawls in bed, and twists into a little ball before rolling out of bed and crawling for the bathroom. I hate to hear him sick, but he says his body is full of poison and he has to get it out. He blames his grandfather and his father. He blames me for not stopping him then cries cause he thinks i;ll leave him. he blames the government for making alcohol legal. He blames... and passes out.

So... Do i ? Do i have the strength the stick this out??