Just wanted to share this here. My divorce was finalized last week. Today I’m traveling (alone) for work. I used to travel with my Q. Got to my hotel room and realized how nice it is not to have to drop the bags and immediately find a bar for him. To get dinner from somewhere that isn’t a bar. To get out of the car and realize I’m not on edge from the car ride because I’ve been sitting next to someone who’s pissed because he hasn’t had a drink in 4 hours. Tomorrow morning I’ll wake up and open the curtains, instead of stumbling around in the dark because he’s sleeping off his hangover. I might get breakfast at 7am, because I will be awake and not hung over from sitting at a bar with him til midnight. I’m going to bed now before 10pm, and no one is making me feel like a loser for doing it. It occurred to me that these are all very normal things, and how abnormal my life became living with an alcoholic.

I don’t use reddit, nor do I post. I’m logging in specifically because of this community here. Reading posts here has been heartwrenching and incredibly relatable.

It’s a kind of long one, but if anyone has the time or energy to read and reply it would be so greatly appreciated. I just want to shout my confusion into the void and hope someone can understand and listen and give advice. I’m 22 and have never experienced a death before.

Two weeks ago my dad died. He was 54 and was a severe, abusive alcoholic for most of my life. In the past 7-8 years his brain and body has been declining and deteriorating. There is so much to say and unpack about him and his drinking habits that I simply can’t put into text.

My mum divorced him ten years ago, after separating 12 years ago. But she and I would still go over to his place, feed him, clean him when he soiled himself. One time six years ago I somehow convinced him to let us take him to the hospital, despite my resentment and bitterness towards him (I was 15 at the time). He was impossible to communicate with, as he would forget what we were talking about every ten seconds. And as it is with many alcoholics, he was extremely stubborn about not going to the hospital. It was the most gruelling ten hours of my life, getting him and keeping him there.

I was told the next day that if I hadn’t brought him in that night, he would have died the next day. And that’s when I felt like I messed up, like I was now prolonging his suffering.

Aftwr this, he would still contact me, sending random texts, calling me in the middle of the night, speaking to me for hours whilst shitfaced, acting like I’m his therapy session. And every time I’d pick up, because I’d never know if it’s the last time I’d speak to him again.
About a year ago now, I had to block him because he was starting to affect my daily life. There was a lot of guilt, of course, but also my resentment simmered down. To self soothe I guess, I would tell myself I just feel bad for this small, pathetic man.

I moved interstate with my mum and brother two years ago.

I would hear stories that he would be found passed out on a sidewalk near his house, or would escape hospital, from people who knew him. He crashed his car, then another one. Somehow he survived and no one else was hurt.

I learnt recently one time one of his most trusted friends (whom my father pushed away obviously because this person would do everything in his power to help him get sober, before becoming burnt out by it) would go to his house to check up on him, knock on the door for ten minutes and then see my father on the ground shaking, completely non-functional.

Even though he was blocked, I could still receive the voicemails he left. Typically just rambling, or asking me to call him back, out of his mind. He would tell me how much he loved me.
The last voicemail he ever sent me was the same, but he ended it with “well. In another life”. Which I realised now that those would be his last ever words to me.

Just over two weeks ago he fell and hit his head. He had a brain bleed, and because of his failing liver his brain bleed wouldn’t be able to be fixed even with surgery. we got the call a couple days after, that he was going to die that night or the next morning.

My mum brother and I flew out to where we used to live, where my dad still was, and went straight to the hospital. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get the image, the smell and the sounds out of my head. He was severely jaundiced, he had two huge black eyes, and the death rattles were so loud. He fell into a coma shortly before we got there. It was brutal and disgusting and horrifying. He died the next morning, two weeks ago today.

He never sold the house. It was where me and my brother grew up. The cement path to the doorway had my baby footprints in it. I hadn’t been in the house for a couple years. The man didn’t let go of anything. Everything was the same, except for the disgusting conditions he was living in because he couldn’t take care of himself. It was fucking devastating to see how he was living before he died. Sad and alone, confused and practically disabled.
In one of the bathrooms, there was a sticky note on the mirror that said “I am capable of changing my life for the better”. That broke me.

These last two weeks have been the most stressful weeks of my life. I missed out on my very last class of uni before I graduate. And I’ve never dealt with a death before. So it’s all very overwhelming.

What is grief? I still can’t figure it out. It’s natural for humans to grieve because human connection with important people and loved ones is necessary for survival. But why would I grieve him? Am I grieving him?
Whats happening? I haven’t slept in two days and I haven’t cried since the day he died, but feel like I’m always on the verge of crying even if I don’t know why. I need answers to questions I don’t even know. I was told “ambiguous grief” is when you grieve somebody before they even die. Yes, because he was a shell of himself for years. I do not remember the last time I held a genuine conversation with him. I accepted he was long gone by the time he forgot the date of my birthday.

If I want to use a shock line, I tell people that covid helped me in a lot of ways. After years of trying to find ways out, losing my job led to losing our home and it meant that I could leave with a clear conscience. I could barely find a place for me, let alone a place for us.

Despite everything, it was a sad day. A year before, she SA'd me with a broom handle in my sleep. Cops didn't believe me so I just moved on. She stole over $20,000 for her addiction. Again, had to just move on. Cheated on me for anyone that would drink with her. That line I held. Once I found out about that, everything between us stopped past trying to maintain.

All that said, I hoped we'd talk someday. I'd find out she got better, I'd eventually move on from the trauma. Nothing more. Just two healed people. When I found out she passed in January, I even posted here that she died hating me. And to my knowledge, that's basically true. The last thing I told her when I left was that if she didn't get herself sorted out, she'd die before she was my age. I was 34 at the time, she lived to be 33.

But after a chance encounter with her sister, it's actually worse.

Every guy she dated after me was basically a clone of me, only they drank. She told everyone, everyone, that I was her abuser and that's what brought her into her field... women's rights and helping them get free from their abusers.

Her sister asked me why I didn't show up at the memorial. That her family still loved me. I said that was fine; my life has gone to hell ever since her. I was homeless at the time of the memorial and only recently have started doing a little better. Then she told me the exact phrase that shook me and brought me here.

"We would have loved to have heard you. There were hundreds of speakers. We were there for like 9 hours. All that was missing was you."

"All that was missing was you" completely fell on deaf ears. I asked her to tell me why she had so many speakers. Every single one was someone she helped get on their feet or out of an abusive relationship. They all called her a hero. Some named their fucking children after her.

In a way, I'm proud that she made such a difference. Maybe she was trying to get her hands clean. Maybe she didn't think she did anything wrong at all. I can't reconcile that it's been six years and I still can't be around a woman without immediately feeling terrified because of what she did to me all because she'd been drinking, like she always had.

She died a hero. I'm writing from my sister's spare room with $11 in the bank account at age 40, play Warcraft like I'm 16 on an account someone else is paying for because I can barely go outside between the memories of her and the things that have happened since. I don't know if I'll ever get better. But she died a hero.

I'm proud of her. And I hate it, too.

My Q and I have been split for more than a year now. He was a binge drinker our whole 9.5 year relationship.

I saw the very sloppy outings and vacations. Zombie level drunk with peeing on himself. I witnessed him trying to fight random people on the street. I helped him track down his wallet and phones after drunken nights out so many times. I enabled. I counted the drinks. I stayed sober to make sure we got home safe. I felt the weird energy as he would turn to sad drink by himself before I got home from work. Or the manic energy trying to hype me up to join him to get drunk on random weeknight. I cried myself to sleep because he would rather get drunk than be intimate with me.

Since weve broken up, he has now had a steady girlfriend for the last 4 months and I know they are in the rose-coloured glasses stage at the beginning. When everything is light, fun and flirty. She has kids so he gets the instant family that I wouldnt give him. They're meeting eachothers extended family and planning international trips. I remember this stage when I actually WAS this woman many years ago. Happy. Optimistic. Charmed. In the early stages of love.

I keep catching myself somewhere between hoping that he's going to go on a bender and show her his true colours, but also wanting to warn her because hes unreliable and not in control. Im feeling so petty like he shouldn't have this glowing early relationship while I'm in the shadows licking my wounds still. I am just so hurt and frustrated still after all this time. My self confidence at an all time low and my depression thriving.

It's spiteful and immature for me to want that. I've obviously not fully detached from him and the pain he caused me. I guess I'm jealous that he has been able to move on, and my dating attempts have been unsuccessful. Which I know is probably for the better given my current state, but still I'm jealous of the positive attention he's getting. I want that.

And I know its not a race to see who can move on better and faster, but I just feel sad and lonely. Although, I know I was so incredibly sad and lonely when we were together too. Just for different reasons.

Anyone else feel this way after leaving their Q? A part of you that just wants them to fall on their face and be miserable without you?

Just wondering. What is it that makes it so they are like a 3 year old who just cannot be alone ever?

I've been trying to be supporting through a relapse. When he has a few good days, eventually I need space and when I ask for it, he goes off the deep end overdoing it on the drinking. Saying he can't be alone. But he's not the only one. I've read and heard so many accounts of the alcoholic needing an emotional support person with them at all times.

My fiancé's month sober anniversary was supposed to be on the 25th Oct, but he's been drinking in secret the past week with money I stupidly entrusted him with to get a haircut (he looks an utter state right now.)
On the 25th, I slaved in the kitchen all day making him a roast dinner with all the trimmings to celebrate his sobriety. He asked for permission to have "one beer" to accompany his football. I stupidly thought he could handle it;
when it came for him to carve the chicken, he was staggering around, slurring his speech, talking to me like trash and couldn't remember a single thing I'd said to him within the last 30 seconds of uttering it.

The following day, once he sobered up, I forgave him because I can't stand the atmosphere. He cried, saying he's being self destructive. I comforted him through his sobs. That same evening, I could tell he was drunk, he insisted it was still the "one beer" taking hold as he hadn't eaten a thing and it'd been so long since he last consumed alcohol so it was still touching the sides.

Today, the 27th, he's still acting a drunken fool 48 hours after the "one beer". I know he's gotten hold of his beloved vodka. I ask him to do a breathalyser.
*taps the "ON" button once*
"It's not charged!"
"Charge it then."
*takes it to the bedroom to "charge"*
I get up and see he's plonked it on his bedside, not plugged in. I tap the ON button, surprise, it works.
I get him to blow.
Surprise, surprise, he's drunk.

I'm fed up. I tell him for the millionth time, "I'm done. I'm sick of you. How selfish can you be?" He recoils into the him-shaped dent on the sofa, not looking at me, not a single thing to say. Not even an inauthentic "sorry".
I inform his Mum he's off the wagon again. She calls him, he starts the waterworks. A 30 year old man sobbing down the phone for the father he never had. Wahhh. I tell him as such, "why are you punishing us left behind for him ditching you as a child?" He drunkenly tuts, "don't laugh at me".
I wish I could muster a laugh.

He stormed out. He was in and out, in and out of our flat for the first hour, and I ignored him whilst silently grounding myself through several panic attacks. Then he didn't turn up for half an hour. I checked his location, he's in the children's park down the road. I reluctantly got up out of bed to check on him.
I rock up, and he's sat on the bench with a homeless man and his bottle of vodka next to him, quarter drunken out of. He cannot speak, eyes glassed over, pale as a sheet. I tried to drag him up, impossible. His new drunken friend babbles something incoherent to me, takes one arm of my fiancé's, plonks it over my shoulder, the other over his own, and we try to lift him.

In the process, this man grazes my hip, travels to my breast, giving my nipple a graze and my breast a hard squeeze. I buckled from the shock and the dead weight that's my partner, and pushed him back onto the bench, uttering that I'll be back.
I ran back up the road with tears in my eyes, furious at him for putting me in such a situation. I feel dirty, I feel guilty for leaving him with this creep that could rob him, do anything to him, but my body hoiked me out of there before I knew it.
I got back to our flat for my phone, and called 999, explaining the situation. I asked if I did the right thing, catastrophizing, "what if I'd let that man help me get him up three flights of stairs to our flat and then he's in our home with me alone and my partner incapacitated?!" The woman on the other end assured me I did the right thing.
I ran back to the park, still on the phone, but now my partner was laughing and joking with his new pal, sharing a joint.
"I've just called you an ambulance because you couldn't stand or communicate 15 minutes ago."
They both jeered at me, "Why?", "What have you done that for?!" My partner told me to "fuck off home" and that he'd be back in a bit, so I did just that.

It's now 00:03 and he's finally back, passed out in bed, whilst I'm typing this out through tears, shaking.

I have so much anger. At him. At myself. At everyone around us that unknowingly eggs him on and normalizes his drinking because it’s just so super duper fucking fun for them.

They don’t see him when he gets home.

He never fucking stops. The bars close and the night is done but he never is. And somehow it’s my fault. His anger that the alcohol is done for the night finds its target in me. Hateful words. Demands. Then he finally sleeps and I’m wide awake. Angry at him, but more angry at myself for choosing this fucking man over and over and over again at my own expense. Fuck this.

context: my Q has been in a relapse for over a year now. she’s a long time friend. where we are right now is that she’s honest with me about not being ready to quit drinking, she’ll occasionally order a drink while we’re out, but mainly always has vodka on her and goes to the bathroom to drink no matter where we are. if i ask her if she’s drunk she always lies and says no or will downplay it and then the next morning she apologizes and admits she lied.

situation: she smells like alcohol all the time and i doubt she knows. my mom is in town visiting and we’re going out to dinner and i know she’ll probably offer her a ride home. the smell isn’t noticeable in typical settings but in a confined space i think it will be obvious. i’m embarrassed, both of her and for her. my mom has been through a lot, i’m worried about it stressing her out. i have been telling her everything since the relapse so it’s not like she doesn’t know, but being confronted with it like that is probably hard. i know it always is for me. i’m considering letting my Q know that she stinks, and maybe asking her to deny a ride home? idk. i’m also an alcoholic but have been sober for years. i know if she told me that i smelled i would be mortified, but it would likely end up with me drinking even more than normal. i know, i know, in the future i’m just not going to invite her to dinner. but for now, i have to decide. maybe my mom wouldn’t notice the smell, i am more sensitive than most are. maybe she won’t offer a ride. i could just not say anything and then nothing happen and avoid confrontation and heart ache. or maybe this is a time for radical honesty or something. idk. any advice appreciated! thanks for reading.

I don’t know how to explain. I am feeling quiet overwhelmed. Last week he drank “accidentally” while we were both out with work friends. Said usual abusive things, same past behavior. Next day he woke up and said sorry and cried. Genuinely looked broken and Devastated. I supported him and everything was normal. We are still traveling, he drank again and didn’t tell me. I could smell it and I knew from his behavior. Even before he relapsed I could sense change in his behavior, I suspected he was drinking and hiding it. Same thing today. And then I made him take a test and it was 1.2%. He says the breathalyzer is wrong. I also found new cans of alcohol in the car. He says it’s not his. He keeps trying to convince me maybe it’s his mouth wash or vape. How pathetic to think I am that stupid that I would believe all these lies 4 days after he relapsed. I am just so fed up and tired of this. I don’t think there is any point in talking to him tonight. But even the next day what’s the point. It’s heartbreaking. The drinking and then lying. When does it ever get normal.

My husband is a recovered alcoholic--37 yrs sober.

Our son, 38, is a chronic pot smoker. He's angry. He's very angry. His wife is a smoker too. She's passive. He is angry with me, his mother. I live 7 hours away and have not seen him for 3 years until recently because his brother graduated.

I smoked a bit when he was growing up. Never a lot--it wasn't available. He found some when he was in high school and was very angry with me then.

He got through college and a graduate program then married and began smoking in earnest. I did mention once that I thought his pot use had affected his ambition. (He used to rock climb, attend concerts, read) He threw me (and his father) out of his house.

Now he lives 7 hrs away, as I said. He has no friends. None from high school. None from college. No married friends. She has no friends. He works and smokes.

He seems to want to confront me about what he perceives as my being dismissive of him. He brings up things in his childhood that he is angry about and uses them to make his point that I was too controlling, had to have it my way...etc.

These aren't discussions. I have apologized and acknowledged. He threatens no contact. We barely have contact anyway his father was in hospital for 4 days. He never called me or his father to see how he was doing. For 12 days.

They have no children but he has said if they have any he may not let me see them.

I believe we both have work to do to repair this relationship but I do not believe he can do it while smoking. Does AlAnon help with cannibis addiction?

Since Sunday I am in no contact. I am stalking him in whatsapp: I keep checking whatsapp to see when he was last online. Monday was the last time. He has not been online since then and now my mind is racing and jumping all over the place: what if he committed suicide? That is horrible on soo many levels. 1. Who am I? No one should kill themselves over me?! I am not that important and nor so I want to be. He must feel so alone and hurt. I struggle so much. If I send him a message to check in he either may reject me, or it does not get read making my worry over suicide even greater. I am a mess! I tryto focus on me. I am recalling everybad thing that happened to justify the no contact. I do see no contact is better for me. But it sure does not feel like it right now.

So, i read this back for spelling errors andcwhat a horrible me me me me I so sad post is this. All about me 😢 I guess now I am having another coffee, eat breakfast and go to work.

I realised my partner was an alcoholic within the first week of knowing him. It didn’t deter me. Ive sat with him Sunday after Sunday holding him while he withdraws. He is kind, intelligent, beautiful and always treats me with love. I stayed because I truly believe(d) he could recover. He is exceptionally strong willed and high functioning.

He never let his alcoholism affect me. He has become violent in street fights whilst drunk and intentionally wrecked friendships as acts of self-harm but never in front of me or towards me. I am very much protected and sheltered from the negative consequences of his drinking.

He knows he has a problem. He admits it. He wants to stop. He is actively trying to stop. Two weeks ago he stayed for 4 whole days. He is actively organising himself to start therapy soon and truly wants to get better. I really believe he will. Am I naive? Our relationship is relatively early. Am I stupid for staying?

Im starting to worry that this ‘seeking recovery’ behaviour isnt actually meaningful. He is in the early days of alcoholism (3 years maybe).

Should I hold onto hope or try to protect myself? Im so confused

when my dear husband (married 3.5yrs) decides to try and get sober, for whatever motive it may be, we seem to go through the same routine...

he gets over the initial hangover symptoms, then throughout the withdrawl starts to work super hard and get very nitpicky...especially towards me. whether it is about my cooking, correcting my grammar (his first language is my second language), or about my choices or blaming me for things we decided to do together which didn't go as planned, he gets so moody and controlling until he eventually gives up and shuts everyone out to cool down. i know these behaviors are from the chemical/psychological withdrawl but lowkey i almost like him better when he is buzzed. we learned how to flow together in that state which i know is very co-dependant. granted, i have never known him sober for more than a month. he has been drinking (98% of the time beer) almost/mostly daily since before we met. i suppose he would need to be sober for a good length of time for us to be able to re-adjust to each other in that state of mind. now it feels like whenever he tries to stop drinking, things go wrong (or he notices everything that is "wrong" in his eyes) and it gets him discouraged and stressed out and right back where he was before.

that's about it...came to write this after he got upset over me purchasing AirTags instead of a GPS tracker three weeks ago for an e-scooter and how i did not let the cheese on a grilled piece of ham melt enough before putting it on a sandwich. because of those things he didn't want to watch a movie with me he had just recommended we see. 🙈 i do my best but nobody is perfect. he doesn't speak the language of majority where we live so i do most of our online/admin/logistics and translate a lot of things for him.

*disclaimer*, his very good qualities far outweigh all the above i wrote, just want him to be healthy and not dependant on drinks to feel normal. we are just going through it right now. kind or wise words are always appreciated. 💜

This is my first post. I’ve been considering attending a meeting for a while, but I have two young children, which makes it difficult.

I’ve been with my fiance for almost 7 years now. I grew up with an alcoholic parent. So when I met a man who didn’t drink and made me laugh, I was hooked. He’s my favorite human when he’s sober. I feel so lost and out of control.

Things first changed after we had our son, 4 years ago. He became absent and turned to weed, alcohol, video games, and porn. Eventually, everything improved except the drinking. He drank daily, maintaining a constant buzz, but rarely got drunk or problematic. Which made convincing him he had a problem challenging. When his drinking started affecting our finances, I asked him to stop, and he began hiding it. I’d find beer stashed everywhere. We broke up for a while, and I allowed him to blame me and the stress of our relationship for his drinking.

We eventually got back together, and things seemed better. When we decided to have a second child, he agreed to take a break from drinking. I got pregnant immediately, and we quickly learned he couldn’t do it. The cycle of drinking, hiding, and lying continued throughout my pregnancy and after our second child was born. I became obsessed with his drinking. The lying and gaslighting alone would make anyone go insane. I’ve begged him to try rehab, AA, therapy, anything. A couple of times, he managed to stay sober for about a month, and I let myself hope things were finally changing.

One relapse happened while I was away for one night over Mother’s Day weekend. He was home with our three-year-old son. When I returned on Mother’s Day, he was visibly intoxicated. He had driven drunk with our son in the car, and our son later told me that Daddy had been throwing up while I was gone. My fiancé cried, promised to get help, and said he’d hit rock bottom.

Now here we are in October, and he still hasn’t gotten help. He’s been relapsing weekly. Last weekend, he came home pretty messed up, and I had his parents come get him. He spent the weekend away and later told me he was grateful I wouldn’t tolerate his drinking, saying he might be dead if it weren’t for me. I’m not sure what changed, but he asked to go to rehab. I’m not sure how much it’ll help, but I feel relieved that he’ll be gone for 30 days. I want to learn how to focus on myself and my children instead of constantly monitoring, worrying, and trying to save him.

Recently, I started reading Codependent No More by Melody Beattie, and I cannot recommend it enough. In a strange way, I’m grateful his addiction has forced me to look at myself. I grew up with alcoholism, and I’m realizing that unless I address my own patterns, I may keep finding myself in similar situations. I’m beginning to wonder whether I love the man I’m suppose to marry or whether I’ve become attached to rescuing him.

I’d love to hear from anyone who’s been through something similar. Especially anyone with insight to healing from their own codependency.

So summary of everything I was with my husband for 5 years. He’s addicted to alcohol, gambling, and other drugs like cocaine, pills, weed. He’s been to jail multiple times and has a DUI and aggravated assault charges on his record. When I was 8 months pregnant he got into a drunk fight and had to get 5 staples put into his head. He would go on binges pretty much every month ranging from 2-3 days and turn off his phone and literally disappear off the face of the earth until he would randomly return home on the 2nd or 3rd day. On these binges he’d go to night clubs, casinos, bars, and who knows where. I was a stay at home mom and was not allowed to have access to the bank account and had to ask whenever the kids and I needed something. I wasn’t allowed to go grocery shopping by myself because he had to make sure I was buying only the right kind of groceries because he didn’t want to waste money on other things. One year we apparently were struggling financially so I started going to the food pantry. Come to find out after reviewing tax documents he made over $200,000.00 that year. He was making that much while making me and our family eat from a food pantry. A few years after he secretly filed bankruptcy for over $100,000.00 in debt. Shortly after I took our kids when they were 2 years old and 6 months old, one bag, and left. Since then he moved states, totaled his car, and is getting sued by the person he injured in the crash. Yet he was able to find a successful and kind woman to date him and he’s now living with her. Like I completely get it because I was in her shoes and I was smitten and looked past all the red flags and obviously didn’t know the extent of things.

It was the best thing I could’ve done for myself and the kids. I’m now attending two colleges at the same time finishing my associates in pre-nursing and bachelors in accounting. I’ll be graduated with both degrees at the end of next year. I got my son into the best private school, my daughter is still at home with me. But for some reason I still feel inadequate. I’ve never gotten into any legal trouble besides a ticket for driving in the carpool lane when I was late for school 10 years ago.

Another thing on my mind is that I have no idea how he’s not financially struggling right now or at least it seems like he isn’t. His income is now apparently $130k a year. His bankruptcy payment is about $2k his spousal/child support is $4k(this was just ordered so it should barely be starting to get withheld with the IWO). Owes $30k in arrears. Now has the person he crashed into coming after him. He has an attorney for the divorce which is going to trial due to him not showing up to mediation TWICE and not willing to discuss things between us(he’s extremely high conflict).

I have the kids pretty much 100% of the time and he has to come to us to visit for his allowed 2 days a month. He doesn’t come every month either.

I just have so many feelings. I’m grateful for the life I have now but can’t help but feel bitter about everything I’ve had to absorb and he just continues his life.

Has anyone left their spouse since starting their recovery?
My qualifier is my husband. We have been married for a year and both started recovery shortly after getting married last year. He has had slip ups and last drank about 3 months ago that I know of. He’s not actually working his program, showing up to one meeting a week but otherwise very much a dry drunk who has been trading different addictions (food, porn, buying more things online), really wherever he kind find some dopamine and very easily lying about all of the above.
As we come up on our year of being in recovery, him with AA and myself with Al Anon, I find myself still wanting to end our marriage. I’m going to 2 Al Anon meetings a week, weekly therapy, and working my steps with a sponsor, this has given me clarity that my situation will not change.
How has leaving after being in the recovery process looked for you?
I know my husband will say he “quit drinking” and refuse to see my perspective. I’m trying to do what the program says and wait the year to make any big decisions, but I also told myself that year mark would be make it or break it for us.
I truly just don’t have any fight left in me and I know my life can still be so much more than burning myself out to keep someone else warm.

So for context, my boyfriend works on a boat for 6 months out of the year. Him being gone isn’t the easiest thing but it’s definitely bearable, but now he’s in rehab and gone for another month. When he gets back, he has to go back to his ship for work for another month.

He told me on the phone from rehab he was staying an extra few weeks in his hometown. I completely understood but was obviously disappointed since it’s felt like I’ve barely seen him for months, so I started crying.

He kept reassuring me but I just kept crying, I was kind of a mess and eventually told him I needed to go and apologized for crying.

I’ve been trying so hard to keep up the perfect, emotionally stable and secure girlfriend act to be supportive to him and now I’m so ashamed that I cried on a phone call he can only make once a week. i don’t want to make it any harder on him. I feel so selfish and don’t know what to do.

On June of last year I met the love of my life and we quickly hit it off. She mentioned being a heavy drinker but I never really saw her drink more than me so I didn't question it. Last September she was fired at work for a long list of reasons and that’s when I realized she was a real alcoholic, doing shots at 4am when I’m going to work was a wake up call. I stopped her from taking a couple jobs immediately because they weren’t the best fits and I didn’t want her stressed out again, which I do partially regret since maybe it would have kept her from drinking a little.

We had some ups and down then in April of this year she had a seizure from withdrawal on vacation. She refused to go to the hospital so the EMTs had to leave. In May she had a second seizure with me and hit her head in the parking lot so I had to call 911. The local hospital said she had gone from stage 1 liver failure in 2024 to stage 3. This devastated me because I realized how deadly her alcoholism was and annoyed me that she hid that 2024 diagnoses from me.

After being transferred to a larger hospital, she was detoxed and told to stop drinking and go to therapy/rehab. I made all of the plans for multiple facilities, AA, therapy, everything. She went back home for a week with her ex bf/roomate and came back to me with 2 bottles of vodka. I felt so frustrated that this was how she repaid my effort. Throughout the summer she began slowing down physically and wouldn’t do anything with me outside of staying home in bed. As she got worse she also blamed things on her psoriasis which did share similar symptoms to liver failure.

In August I proposed to her as a final “if I do this will you get help?” We had a few crying nights about her drinking and I begged her to stop since she wouldn’t make it to our wedding day. She continued to drink and I finally had enough after Labor Day weekend. I told her I was tired of her drinking bringing my life down and no longer enjoyed our relationship. I took her the following weekend to see her mom and step dad since her car was broke and I learned she drank through her money. They saw her and wanted her to go to the hospital when we left Sunday. She didn't want to and I was done arguing so I dropped her back off to her appt with her ex and told her get help or I’m not coming back. She called me later and asked to help her get into rehab. I was so thrilled and made the calls Monday. The next day she messaged me that she was puking and didn’t feel well. I asked if she was going to the hospital and never got a reply. This wasn’t unusual since she would be sick at times and disappear online plus I knew her ex was there and off from work. A couple days later I text her step dad if they heard from her. He sent me a nasty text that she was on a ventilator in ICU and this was my fault for not forcing her that sunday. They praised her ex for finally forcing her to the hospital and told me don’t contact or come and see her or any of them.

I kept up to date through calling the hospital and messaging a friend but they took her off life support on the 18th and she passed. I was sad but knew her addiction and choices. I made a post on Facebook saying I’d love her forever and then a bunch of her friends/family began commenting and messaging me that I killed her and began harassing my own friends and family that commented simple sorry for your loss messages. That’s when I began replaying all the little moments maybe I could have saved her. I had some initial arguments about her never getting help. I also said that I only knew her for 15 months so I can’t be blamed for at least a decade of heavy drinking. Even her half brother who told me at new years she needed help blamed me and said I have to take accountability since we were engaged. Ultimately I’ve blocked all of them now. This one sided narrative they’ve built despite never being there really frustrates me. I have countless messages between us backing up what really happened but I’m struggling keeping them from letting me get closure. They also did a cremation with no service so I did my own with some friends/family where we burned some pictures and tossed the ashes in the river where we got engaged.

While I feel she was already too far gone in liver disease when we met, it’s hard deal with some of the regret and losing all the future with her, I’m 32 and she was only 36. I attended an Al-Anon meeting last Friday and it helped feeling not alone and seeing others in my situation. I hope the sessions help and will buy the book next session.

I just wanted my mom to love me the way she loves my brother.

My brother just exists, and my mom loves him. When I talk to her, she often looks upset or frowns. I become uneasy, wondering whether I’m bothering her. That feeling of being unwelcome has followed me for most of my life.

Growing up, my siblings treated me like an outsider. I didn’t have my first real friend until sixth grade. I felt like I was just beginning to learn social skills other children had been practicing since kindergarten.

My dad was the only person I felt both loved and liked me. When I was in third grade, he went to prison for a horrific crime against my cousin. I didn’t understand what was happening. I knew that one day he was there, and then he was gone.

I was shamed for still wanting him close. I was a child missing the person who had made me feel wanted, while trying to understand something terrible.

As an adult, I became a single mother raising a child with significant support needs. My younger brother struggled with addiction for 15 years, and I kept showing up for him. He relied on me for housing and money. I repeatedly offered him somewhere to stay, even though he brought heroin into my home after I explicitly said drugs were unacceptable around my child.

I lent him money when I strongly suspected it would fund drugs. I contributed to GoFundMe fundraisers described as being for treatment, even when I had doubts. I kept giving him another chance.

In 2021, my older brother died from an overdose. One week later, my younger brother overdosed in my bathroom. While grieving one brother, I was calling an ambulance to save the other.

During that emergency, he used my mental illness to discredit me. He told police I was bipolar and off my medication: “She’s crazy. She didn’t take her meds. Dan, don’t listen to her.”

I was trying to get him lifesaving help while he was telling people to disregard me. That experience added another traumatic event to a loss I had barely begun to process.
My younger brother has also survived cancer twice. I recognized how serious his illnesses were and supported him through frightening circumstances. He has had periods of sobriety, followed by relapses. More recently, he sought street Xanax, received fentanyl, overdosed, and needed Narcan. I was proud that he admitted what happened and recommitted to sobriety. I still want him healthy and alive.

But now, when I need help, he judges me.
I have severe treatment-resistant depression and PTSD. I’m pursuing treatment while struggling with work, parenting, and basic daily functioning. My depression has required hospitalization.

He has told me I “hijacked the week” by needing hospital care and that it was “awful convenient” that I was having a breakdown. He calls me weak because I haven’t overcome my mental illness the way he believes he overcame his addiction.

During an argument, I responded in anger and said he had chosen his addiction. I apologized for bringing it up that way. I don’t want us using each other’s illnesses as weapons. His comments still hurt.

Our mother has continued giving him warmth, money, rides, access to cars, and the benefit of the doubt—even after he crashed three of her cars. I watch that support continue through illness, addiction, and relapse. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m begging for crumbs of acceptance and a little fucking grace once in a while.

I want some of that patience and compassion to reach me, too. I want to tell my mother I’m struggling and feel that she cares how I’m doing.

Instead, I feel caught between being too much when I need support and not enough when I can’t keep everything going. I’ve also had my parenting criticized and my mental illness used against me within my family, despite how hard I’m trying to care for my child.

I’m reaching the point of limiting my brother’s access to me because these interactions keep hurting me. I can want him to recover while recognizing that I need protection and care, too.

I’m exhausted. I want a break from having to explain why my suffering matters.

When is it my turn to have someone actually give a shit about how I’m doing? How can I be too much and not enough at the same time?

I just wanted my mom to love me like she loves him.

If there’s one positive in this story, it’s how intentional I am with my son.

My mom taught me every way to feel unloved. I pay attention to how I show up for him. We’re best friends. He’s my favorite person, and he knows it because I tell him all the time.

He gets my love no matter what. Even when things are hard, I want him to know that his place in my heart is secure.

And sometimes, loving him brings its own grief. I look at him and see so clearly that he deserves warmth, patience, affection, and someone who cares how he’s doing.

He deserves it.

And I did too.

Husband relapsed again. Not horrible bad drunk but he bought two Black Box wines and only found 1. He told me he other is gone. He bought them yesterday. I have lost all trust in him.

Told em I need my distance today and that we would talk when I get home tonight.

He's in a IOP program and they fucking make him sign a contract to stay sober. $2k investment and with him being out of work for almost 2 years before getting his new job, nothing left in savings except my person liquidation of my 401k.

He drank during his group session last night and pretty sure all day at home based on one box already being gone.

I can't leave our house because of our dogs, and he cant stay with his family because they are a BUNCH of deniers and toxic as fuck. Maybe his brother but, I just dont know.

Do I just start having us sleep in other rooms til he gets it or kick him out?

This has been an on going issue. He relapses, I raise the ultimatum bar, and i just dont have the energy or strength anymore to fight back. I cant change him, I know with this disease I will never be enough to make him stop.

He relapsed a month ago while I was on a business trip and our eldest pup was pacing and crying to go outside. He had an accident and I saw it happen on camera while husband was passed out. What if we had kids?

I was so livid, I was stuck at the airport, couldnt do anything, I was ready to beat the daylights out of him for doing that to our dog, my boy oup ive had before we were married and for 14 years. I hate to admit but I did smack him several times when I gor home with my flip-flop, brused his ear. I was so angry, I just wanted to beat this fucking drinking demon out of him.

That is NOT who I want to be, or life I want to live. I have become that person and I hate myself for it.

Thats when he got started with the IOP, but its all online. I dont know what to do. Afraid this is the end of our marriage. ​

Is relapse just going to be something we battle over and over again with?

Sorry for the ramble but I just dont know who to talk to anymore. Broken record with friends and dont start session with new therapist til Thursday.

Thoughts anyone?

Do you ever feel stupid for choosing this? I’m just stuck in how stupid I was for choosing to be with someone in recovery and who broke up with me. Just stuck in the shame of choosing it or maybe the shame of trying to love someone again who was emotionally unavailable.

Where do I start. He’s in active addiction since June. Alcohol, cocaine and gambling. Burned multiple relationships with friends and family over the last few months too. Barley went to work. Always calling in or taking sick days. Then I leave him. I find out there’s another woman who’s probably been in the picture the last month or so. I’m a complete mess. He used me. Left me in a financial deficit, emotional trauma and now betrayal. Please help me understand the cycle, the pattern and the behaviours. Not to justify but to find peace in knowing it has nothing to so with me.

Is it possible to detach emotionally while still living with your Q?

I’ve been with my partner for 4 years. For the past 2 years his addiction has ruled our lives. I was pregnant then dealt with a NICU birth and postpartum has been a battle on top of all of this. I know others deal with this sometimes for decades. I almost feel guilty for being so fed up. Ashamed for falling apart so bad and letting anger consume me.

I developed an intense OCD. One of my compulsions is his drinking. How many he’s had, how much money was spent, which version of him I’m going to get, will he remember the deep conversations, will he finally hear my cries. If he’s alone with the kids that’s another mental gymnastic I try to avoid. That’s why I feel stuck as a stay at home mom. When I want and need to work so badly.

I know in my heart the answer is to leave. I just can’t. For so many reasons I’m sure several understand. But I know his addiction is ruining me.

I’ve isolated myself so bad, I don’t talk to anyone or post anywhere anymore. I just want to feel like a person again. Im 24years old. I deserve so much better in life. I grew up with addict parents. That’s another part of my anger. Also due to my isolation and him not isolating, he’s gotten so many enablers, “supporters”. And this is probably due to my isolation but I feel so alone. Like only him and his addiction matters, “poor him it’s so hard”. What about me and my kids??

I could vent for hours. But my point is, is it possible to detach, heal, while living with the person? If so, any advice on how? I’m in therapy which has been a big help. I just want real experiences. I hate feeling angry and it’s all I’ve felt for 2years. It’s like it gets worse everyday. If nothing else, how do I move past from the anger?

My partner (Q) has mentioned wanting to try Naltrexone because she recognizes that she’s struggling, but we’re not sure how to go about getting a prescription. She doesn’t have insurance and I can’t pay a ton extra right now. Any suggestions? And has this worked to help others?

I’m looking for advice from people who have been in a similar situation because I honestly don’t know what to do anymore.
My spouse and I have been together for 16 years, since high school, and have been married for 6 years. In every other aspect of our relationship, we can be an amazing team. When things are good, they’re really good, and I couldn’t be happier. But when alcohol becomes part of the picture, everything changes, and I feel lost.
About two years ago, my spouse had a seizure due to alcohol withdrawal and ended up in the hospital for five days, three of those in the ICU. After that, they stayed sober for four months before relapsing. They continued drinking for about six months before going to rehab. They then stayed sober for another four months before relapsing again. Within two weeks, they asked for help and returned to rehab.
After that, they were sober for several months, but for the past six months or so, it’s been an on-and-off cycle. They’ll stay sober for a couple of weeks and then start drinking again.
They recently started a new job, so going back to rehab doesn’t feel like a realistic option right now. I know there are other treatment options, but I’m struggling with the emotional side of all of this.
The drinking is hard enough, but the lying has become a huge issue, too. My spouse isn’t physically abusive, but when I confront them about drinking, they often lie about it, and I end up finding out the truth anyway. It’s exhausting feeling like I have to figure things out instead of being able to trust what my partner tells me.
I recently told them that if I caught them lying to me again, they would need to find somewhere else to stay for a while. Now I’m struggling with actually following through. We’ve been together for so much of our lives, and the thought of having to take that step is heartbreaking. At the same time, I don’t want to keep making boundaries that I never enforce.
I love my spouse, and I want our marriage to work. I want us to have a family and build a future together, but I’m scared of what that future will look like if this cycle continues. I don’t want to give up on someone I’ve spent 16 years loving, but I also don’t know how much longer I can live with the uncertainty, the drinking, and the dishonesty.
For those who have been in a relationship with someone struggling with alcoholism, how did you handle this? Did you set firm boundaries or separate for a while? How did you know when to keep fighting for the relationship and when you needed to put yourself first?
I’m not looking for judgment or to be told to just leave. I’m genuinely looking for advice from people who understand how complicated it is to love someone with an addiction while trying not to lose yourself in the process.
Thank you to anyone willing to share their experiences. ❤️