I stopped drinking at age 40, after finding a note from my husband taped to the bottle I had hidden. It read, "You can be my wife, or you can be a drunk, but you can't be both. Let me know today." I felt like I had just been run over by a truck. I was scared straight that day. He was supportive. He quit drinking for a time as well so I could get my sea-legs. We were both smokers and quit that too.
We took walks together every day - got up to three miles in a 1/2 hour. He would compliment me on a regular basis by saying "It's good having you back." It wasn't that hard with all his love and support. His mother was an Alcoholic and he had severed all ties with her and he was the best thing that ever happened to me and I wanted to give him that gift. Eventually, I lost all my desire for AL and still had lots of fun and was still the life of the party. Life was good and hubby got a promotion and we moved to our dream house and daughter graduated from high school and went on to college and got engaged to a boy we all loved and 3rd son got a full scholarship to a private college a few states away and our disabled son was leaving high school with 22 hours of paid employment and life was so good that we all went to Jamaica to celebrate and hubby and I were sitting on the sand staring at the moon over the water as the waves crashed on the rocks and hubby leans in and whispers, "You know, I really don't think you're and Alcoholic. I think it was just that 'period' in your life. Come on - nobody comes to Jamaica without eating Jerked Chicken, smoking a Cuban and drinking the Rum...and I said REALLY??? The person who lives me more than anything in the world has just asked me to rejoin him in our most sacred ritual and I accepted. The beginning of the end. It felt, I imagine, like adultery. We came home, planned and executed our daughter's fantasy wedding, our son took off for college life. We had occasional drinks, sometimes more than others. Fast forward to the past couple of years. Our new son-in-law starts beating our daughter and cheating almost as soon as they left the church (NO - We didn't see it coming), 18 YO leaves home for first time for college a few states away, tastes complete and utter freedom from the prying eyes of parents and loses scholarship after 2 YRS. Daughter moves home to escape abuse. Son moves home as a drop-out. I have to quit my career to stay home with disabled son as most of the businesses that hired him have closed and he only works seven hours a week now and needs a full-time coach with him, so I am no longer terribly employable. I had the world by the tail a few years ago and now it's got me by the proverbial balls - ENTER THE BOTTLE - and I can't seem to get a grip. Hubby is no longer supportive - just extremely disgusted. Comes home disgusted. Doesn't believe in addiction - only choice. He has no intention of quitting this time and drinks every night with his cigar. We don't talk, we don't walk, we don't touch. I guess I'm commiting suicide the lady-like way. I have no explanation or excuse and the isolation of being forced to stay home every day with my disabled son who, at the ripe old age of 23 still needs his butt wiped, is mind numbing, so I oblidge my mind. My daughter's divorce is final. My son (the scholar) is working in a gas station. They are starting to move out after 2 YRS. The silence will be defeaning.
I hope this site is a miracle cure too. A lot of these posts have made me cry with empathy, but I haven't put down my glass yet. If my husband said he was leaving like he did 10 years ago - I'd let him go - that's how far gone I am. I truly feel hollow. Somebody give me an Oprah AHA moment...
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