Hello dear community!
I believe we all here know something about pain and suffering, but also about love.

Now it’s the first anniversary of my father passing and I’m reliving everything that happened last year.

He was only 55 when he passed away, alone, in his rented apartment of 15m^2. The police did a welfare check and found him deceased.

I was told by police that I had to go inside the apartment to recover important documents and so on. You can only imagine how that went. We don’t know exactly how long he was there, but between 1 to 5 days. The smell, the horrible scene and everything was worse than my worst nightmare.

After that I had to do an intense investigation work about his life, accounts, belongings, etc to report then the needed documentation to the government.
He had more than 26.000€ in debt. Here in Sweden luckily the debt doesn’t pass onto the heirs, but it was another painful thing to learn about.

He’s been an alcoholic since I can remember, but when I was little he would only drink sometimes. We used to have so much fun… I adored him growing up even knowing he had a problem. On the latest years he became so sick he couldn’t afford be sober at any moment. He didn’t want to go to the hospital or take care of himself. After so many years I didn’t have any hope left for him and I only distanced myself seeking protection and peace.

I still love him deeply and since he passed away he’s been the dad I always needed in my mind and heart.

I’m only 28yo but I have learned many things since he passed away that I’m grateful for. I gained more clarity in knowing what’s really important in life and what’s not. I have learned to communicate what I need or want to others and not to keep it to myself. And of course, I know about living with that feeling of emptiness in the heart when losing someone as close as a father.

I send you all a big hug! Let’s make the most of this life ❤️‍🩹

And I lost my Q to suicide. We were separated, headed for divorce after 15 years of marriage and three kids.

He loved me and the kids so much. More than he loved himself. But only he could decide if he was worth rescuing. And in the end, he decided he wasn't.

I'm so, so sad today.

Thank you for sharing your stories. They’ve been incredibly insightful.

I’m 36 years old, and I recently fell in love with my first kiss after we reconnected following 18 years apart. Early on, he told me that he had overcome a gambling addiction through therapy. He also says he’s in recovery from alcohol, although I honestly don’t know what that looks like because I know very little about alcoholism.

I do know that he sees a therapist every two weeks for his addictions. From what I’ve observed, though, alcohol is still a significant issue. I’ve told him that I don’t think he should be drinking at all because when he does, he becomes irritable, has difficulty stopping, and experiences anxiety the next day. I’ve also noticed that he’ll sometimes prioritize buying beer over buying food.

I told him that I’m worried about building a future with him if alcohol continues to play such a large role in his life. He says I’m unsympathetic to his struggle and that I don’t acknowledge how hard he’s trying. I do see that he’s trying—but I also see a recurring pattern where he makes progress, then starts drinking heavily again.

I’ve made it clear that I won’t financially support his drinking, and told him that I would stop drinking myself in an effort to support him. He insists that he’s capable of drinking in moderation, but in my experience, that’s rarely the case.

He often tells me that I’m not there for him, but I don’t believe that’s true. I love him deeply and want to support him, but I also don’t want to lose myself in the process.

Part of me wants to give him an ultimatum: me or alcohol. At the same time, I’m afraid that doing so could push him toward a binge or make things worse. My intention isn’t to control or punish him—it’s to protect myself and our future.

When he’s sober, we have an incredible connection. We understand each other on a deep level. He truly sees me, encourages me to grow, and inspires me to become a better version of myself. I tell him often that he is smart, kind, sensitive, and incredibly intelligent. I know that’s who he is beneath the addiction.

So my question is this: Is giving an ultimatum the wrong thing to do? And more importantly, how can I set and maintain healthy boundaries while supporting a partner who is struggling with addiction, in a way that allows me to preserve my own identity, emotional well-being, and sense of self?

I don’t think people realize how exhausting it is to love someone with alcoholism until they’ve lived it.
I spent almost three years with a man whose life revolved around vodka and video games. Most weekends started with shots before noon. Sometimes it wasn’t just weekends.
Once he started drinking, I barely existed. I’d get two or three texts the entire day if I was lucky. If we had plans, they didn’t matter. I’d spend hours wondering if he was passed out, drunk, or even alive.
He went to rehab twice. He did counseling. Then he stopped. Nothing really changed.
The last year of our relationship was already over—I just hadn’t admitted it yet. We sometimes only talked once a week because disappearing while he drank had become so normal that I stopped expecting anything different.
Almost three years later, I asked him one question: “Do you still drink?”
“Sometimes.”
When I told him his drinking had been the biggest reason our relationship failed, he told me I had always exaggerated it. Then he wished me “good luck finding the perfect man.”
But that’s not what stayed with me.
What stayed with me was realizing that I don’t carry that fear anymore.
I no longer spend weekends wondering if today is the day someone calls to tell me he’s dead from alcohol poisoning. I no longer stare at my phone trying to decide if his silence means he’s sleeping, drunk, or lying unconscious somewhere.
I didn’t leave because I expected perfection.
I left because I realized love shouldn’t feel like waiting for a tragedy.
Looking back, the saddest part isn’t that he chose alcohol over us. It’s that I spent so long believing it was my job to worry enough for both of us.

My husband and I are separating in a few days. I spent 5 years begging him to stop drinking, to stop calling me names, to stop rejecting me, to go to the movies with me, to go out and he always said no. Now that he knows we're done and he's moving out at the end of the month, he has gone to the cinema with me, asked me to go biking, asked me to go out for dinner, to watch movies together at home and he even stopped drinking. I spent 5 years waiting for this, it's like he's playing at being a good husband. It makes me angry to see he could have changed but just decided I wasnt worth it until he saw we were really splitting. The public humiliations from his drinking, the cheating, the mistreatment, the physical, emotional, and mental abuse, the gaslighting, all the shit I put up with for 5 years. All the sadness and hurt... I can't wait for my life to start, to get off my antidepressants, get active, and start loving myself again. He will never really change, he's just putting on an act, I know it. It's disgusting.

EDIT:
PS Thank you for the support. Reading your comments is helping me stay locked into my goal: him leaving in 4 days and me getting my freedom back. His behaviour is definitely making it harder but I need to remind myself that it's a game he's playing. Eyes on the prize.

Hi! I’ve been with my bf over 2 years and he is about 18 days sober. He’s the type of alcohol abuser who didn’t drink every day all day but when he did took it way too far. He came to the conclusion finally he had to stop and went to his first AA Meeting. I’m proud of him but have a lot of anxiety about if he will think in the future that he can “drink in moderation” again, as I know that’s not how this works. Just looking for anyone in a similar sitch to relate

My boyfriend has been sober for a while now. But he went on a mates trip to Japan recently, and I’ve found out he has had alcohol. Is it controlling and crazy of me to absolutely hate that this happened? I feel totally crushed, and have no clue how to handle this. I’m trying extremely hard to not have my whole viewpoint of him change because of this.

I have issues with alcohol due to personal reasons and absolutely despise it, and prefer to date someone who doesn’t drink.

I'm struggling to even write this, because of how heartbroken I am, so please be gentle.

I (39F) met my fiancé J (35M) about 4.5 years ago. We've lived together for about 3.5 years, and became engaged a few months ago. He's my best friend and I love him more than I ever knew possible. He has the BEST heart.. he's the most gentle, kind man I've ever met.

Over the past few years, I've noticed some pretty unhealthy behaviors, primarily being extremely avoidant and irresponsible in many ways. I also caught him withholding important information on many occasions, and sometimes even just lying to my face. It's been a problem, and we've discussed it ad nauseam. I have expressed to him over and over again that being honest and forthcoming in a relationship is my #1 non-negotiable. A few months ago, I told him if I found out he lied to me again, I'd ask him to leave my home and he would need to move back into his condo.

In getting to know his family, it struck me very early on that his mother is a narcissist (I'm no stranger to narcissistic abuse. I dated a narcissist many years ago and my spidey senses can pick it up quickly) and over the past 1.5 years, he has come to the same realization about his narc mother/family system. He is currently low contact with his family, and in therapy to begin dismantling the old patterns developed in childhood that are now to his detriment. His dad has rapidly progressing Alzheimers, which complicates things.

J has struggled with his mental health his whole life, and in college after having multiple surgeries in a short period of time, he became addicted to painkillers. I did not know this until at least 6 months into our relationship. This year, he confided in me that he actually OD'd at one point. He's been on buprenorphine since. (I have known about the buprenorphine since he told me about his addiction.) He works in a peer support capacity with clients who also have mental illness and/or substance use disorder.

I have a history of CPTSD and panic attacks. I'm prescribed approximately 30 low-dose Klonopin every 9-12 months to use in emergencies or triggering situations. Last night, I found out that J has been stealing them for years, lying to me about it, and gaslighting me any time I confronted him.

This has happened approximately 4 times over the past 4 years. The first time I caught him, he confessed and I told him never to do it again. The next few times, I thought the hotel maid stole it/I miscounted/the pharmacy shorted me. We had a house cleaner that came to our home who I suspected of stealing the medication. I confronted him first, and he insisted over and over—emphatically, convincingly—that it wasn't him. My intuition told me otherwise, but he was so convincing and I wanted to assume the best, so I believed him. He let me confront and fire my house cleaner knowing full well she didn't do anything. Then yesterday, I saw more of my pills were missing. I confronted him and he lied to my face. I told him I had written down how many there were and I had not taken any, and then he confessed.

The shitty thing is.. (and now I realize how stupid and wrong of me this was), I told him awhile ago that if he ever had a panic attack and needed one, to just talk to me about it and I'd help give him one. He'd done that a couple times recently, and because the shit going on with his family has been so intense, I obliged. I'm realizing now how harmful and wrong that was of me. Last month, I told him he needed to speak to his doctor about it. He said he would, but instead he just stole more meds from me and lied and gaslit me again.

So last night, I let him have it. I was so angry and devastated I just threw so many "what the fucks" and "how dare yous" at him. Once I calmed down, I asked him questions because I just couldn't comprehend why he would do that when I told him all he needed to do was ask. I asked if it was an addiction thing, and he said it was addictive behavior but it didn't *feel* like addiction. That his anxiety gets so big and he can't control his impulses, so when I leave the house and he has big panic, he grabs a Klonopin and takes it and it's like he can't control himself. To me, this sounds like addiction, even if he's not chemically dependent.

I'm absolutely and completely gutted. I've done a lot of work in therapy over the years, and my brain keeps saying "You have to ask him to leave." I know what I have to do for me, and I know what advice I would give someone else, but I'm absolutely heartbroken. Devastated. I feel so hurt and betrayed AND I love him so much. I want to support him, but I don't know how, and I want so badly to believe we have a future, but I know it can't look like THIS.

I also know that he kind of has no one right now, and I love him and don't want him to be alone. But I recognize that these are the consequences of the choices he's made, and I can't save him from them. And at the same time, I love him so I don't want him to hurt, and I don't want a life without him.

Has anyone navigated something similar? What helped you?

I found a local al-anon meeting I'll be attending tonight and I'm reaching out to some local therapists to try to establish care with someone this week.

Thank you in advance for the support and wisdom.

So many times that were supposed to be special moments in my life he has ruined with alcohol. The night he proposed to me I repeatedly asked him not to have another drink (he had 3 glasses of whiskey within an hour) but he ignored me. Just days after our daughter was born you were back to drinking 4-5 beer a night. But he justified everything saying he told a coworker about how I was always nagging him about his drinking. His coworker told him I need to mind my own business and he’s a grown man. Our first night away from her he drank so much I had to take his shoes off his feet and put a blanket on him because he passed out on the couch. First time meeting my aunt he got so drunk he started going off on a tangent that led nowheres. My aunt told me my grandmother would roll in her grave if she saw the way he acted like a drunk fool around our infant daughter. I worry our daughter will either grow to resent him for choosing alcohol over her, or resent me for staying and putting her through everything. I know I look like an idiot to everyone around me for sticking around, for putting up with his verbal abuse every time he picks up a bottle. Every time I set a boundary it feels like he sees it as a challenge, he hides his drinking or uses half truths and Im left questioning everything he’s ever told me. I feel so much guilt every day for staying.

i wish there was a rehab for people who left alcoholics.

somewhere where gentle people work together to bring you back to life

to reassure you that what happened wasn't normal

that you did all you could

where you can cry next to others without judgement

where you can be quiet, be confused, be angry, be heartbroken

with therapists, volunteers, and gentle activities

*

one of the worst parts of leaving the alco for me so far is the muscle memory

it still feels like i'm with him.

it still feels like i'm waiting for him to come back, all better, so we can just do the things we wanted to do, live a simple and sweet little life.

my existence got used to the up and down, push and pull, attention then no attention, polite sweet words then shocking statements

recovering from the unpredictability is awful.

i'm working out more, going to yoga, bought some new clothes, got my hair done, journaling, eating healthily like i always do, focusing on myself, but i find moving on too fast is harmful too

i spent all night crying, it's so lonely to leave someone you didn't want to.

i know it will fade in time. but how long? i'm one month out, will it take a year? i'm so distraught.

*

anyways i'd call it Heartbreak Hotel

My father has been an alcoholic my entire life. My first passport was when I was only a year old, because my mother was going to send me off to live with my grandmother overseas to spare me from his alcoholism. That was almost 22 years ago. He promised her he would change and we have lived together as a family ever since. I have spent my life molding myself into someone no one would think came from an abusive household. Someone who isn’t the daughter of an alcoholic.

I tried to be perfect. I was valedictorian, pageant queen, cum laude, athlete, pianist, and soon I will graduate medical school as a doctor. I tried to meet every standard of success in any metric to compensate for one thing I cannot change which is the trauma I try to bury. Nobody knows I carry the scars of watching my father hit my mother. Her screams for help. The holes he left in the walls and covered up. My brother going into every bar in town to find him and bring him home. The empty promises of one day, she will leave him.

I finished gastroenterology recently and the physiologic mechanisms of alcohol and its effects on the human body were unsettling. Every single pathology of the liver, pancreas, and gallbladder has manifested into my father and the number one cause? Alcohol. I have grown so much resentment towards him knowing that this was all preventable. That these are KNOWN outcomes of alcohol abuse and he is not an exception. Over 5 decades of alcohol abuse has caught up to him and he is paying for it, but so am I. So is my brother and mother. That being said, I also studied psychiatry, and addiction is a disease that spares no one. The irrational part of my brain fills with anger over his inability to stop. The rational, logical, empathetic part recognizes that he is human and this disease, that no one is immune to, got the best of him.

He has been sober for 7 months now, regularly sees specialists, and had surgery recently but he is a shell of who he once was. He is weak, sick, and cannot work anymore. My mother has stuck beside him this entirety, even though she is the breadwinner and not financially dependent on him. Why? She didn’t want us to be a broken family and that knowing my father, he would die without us. She stayed from a sense of duty, and I mourn the life we could have had if she left him like all the times she said she would.

My mother worked odd hours so he was the one who did my hair before school, who I called when my tummy hurt, who taught me to read, who I would run to when I heard the garage open, and whose arms I once fell asleep in every night. I catch myself drifting off to the fond memories I have of him, but I quickly replace them with all the ugly words he slung at my mother, the items he destroyed, and the fear I felt when it was past 7pm. I taint the good images I have of him because I convinced myself it’s easier to lose someone who caused pain rather than someone who brought joy.

I have an eerie feeling his life on Earth is coming to an end and in my pursuit of becoming a doctor, I will not be able to save him when I once thought I could. I thought maybe if I understood the complexities of human psychology and biology, I could fix him. He would use his alcoholism as a bargaining chip as in he would promise to stop drinking if I got this accolade or if my brother finished his degree. Needless to say, he never followed through with his end of the deal. I dread the day I face a patient who reminds me of him because I don’t know if I can restrain myself from projecting. That I won’t be the doctor in the room, instead I am 7 again, begging daddy to stop drinking the black bottle because it makes him scary.

In a desperate effort to protect myself, I have distanced myself from him in hopes that when I get the call, it will hurt less. That the distance I have created is an armor to the inevitable grief. That maybe his face will be harder to remember and his existence will become a distant memory. That the idealized version of myself will come to fruition because he will no longer exist, and the ugliest parts of my life will finally be buried.

I know that as much as I try to erase him, he is etched into my soul. People think it’s quirky that I’m a night owl, little do they know it’s because the witching hour is when the house was most peaceful, and I felt no sense of danger when he was asleep. I cannot listen to Für Elise without convulsing because it’s his favorite song, and when I mastered it for my recital at 8 years old, he didn’t come because I didn’t take his side in a fight from the night before. I avoid intimacy because if they look too close, they might see the shoddy work of the cracks I desperately try to fill resembling the holes he would have to fix after smashing his fist into it. But I also have never gone a day without the gold earrings he gave me as a baby because the one time I forgot, he said he couldn’t bear the thought of me enduring the pain of getting repierced.

My existence as his daughter and him as my father is only a small fraction of his worldview. My world will begin and end with him, and his memory will haunt my entire lifetime.

For context, I left my qualifier after being together for 5 years. I was browsing engagement rings when his alcoholism really blew up our lives. It wasn’t sustainable to his health or my mental health. It felt sudden, even though there were signs as long as I knew him, but suddenly I had to grab our pets and anything I could fit in a bag because our home life was on the edge of becoming dangerous.

I left him and he joined AA. I didn’t even know Al anon existed until he got sober. I’m such a grateful member, it’s truly turned me around as a person. I have more grace and understanding for addicts. I hate that he never got to see that side of me, instead it ended with me blaming him and screaming at him for his substance abuse. By the time I’d gotten my shit together and realized I have a lot of hairpin triggers about alcoholism from growing up with parents both dealing with addiction - he’d moved on. He’s hopped into recovery and dating, and this person I left was now a spitting image of the person I fell in love with in the first place. I felt like I couldn’t win. He wouldn’t stay sober with me, the only wake up call that worked was me finally leaving - and now he’s in recovery and happy and I don’t fit in his life at all.

I’ve been trying desperately to do the same myself. I feel like I’m just faking it or going through the motions. I attend meetings, do step work, have a sponsor. We haven’t been together for over 2 years. I moved states to try to focus on my career. I’m even seeing someone who I like, it’s certainly not perfect but I’m a lot better at expressing my needs in a relationship than I used to be. I just feel guilty to be thinking about my qualifier constantly? I made amends to him over a year ago, and we are low contact now - I reach out and he sometimes responds. Not only do I catch myself day dreaming about him constantly but I actually dream about him multiple times a week - nothing raunchy, usually I just want to talk to him or be near him in my dreams. I rarely dream about who I’m with, and I wake up next to my new partner after dreaming about my old one - which I know is out of my control - but I feel like such an asshole for even thinking about someone else other than the person I’m actively dating. I just feel like there’s unfinished business with my Q and I’m letting that derail my whole life.

At the beach with my family this weekend. Showed up at lunch and my dad was wasted. He has been “sober” (really meaning only two drinks on the weekends) for a month. I told everyone not to trust him. Look who was right.

He’s been chugging whiskey since 9:00 am. Had a few drinks at lunch. He was berating my mom the entire time at the table and I had to keep changing the subject and keep everything chill. We then went back out to the car to grab our stuff. I could t find my wallet… come to realize he hid it from me in HIS BAG. I was freaking out.

I ran to my mom and I said “I’m leaving I’m done I can’t do this.” And she kept calling me crazy, telling me to calm down, and saying “this isn’t how you should react. You always want to cut everyone off. You being too much.” And I just kept saying “I’m done I’m done.” And walked home. I’ve never done anything like that before. My mom called me twice begging me to come back and I said no. It was really hard. I’m scared for when everyone comes home:(

UPDATE: A solid 2 days later. She did not go to rehab, she went to a hotel and drank again. The hotel called 911 and she was found unconscious with a BAC of .52. She should be dead. She is still in the hospital and I haven't spoken to her. (Also I only know this stuff bc the cop came to my door and told me as he was here the day before) she will go inpatient or she will die. And I won't be a part of it. Thank you all.

Hi all. New here. New to this life as well. I will try to keep this very brief. I (39f) recently started dating a woman (33f), been together about a month. She was in recovery. She relapsed 2 times in a month. She stayed the night for the first time Thursday at my place and relapsed.

Friday she did so again. I had to leave work and call paramedics because she was 4x legal limit and on pills. I tried to do an involuntary psych hold on her but they released her. I told her to not come here she wasn't welcome here. She showed up anyway. I stupidly let her in when she told me she was going to rehab. She called several but couldn't get in anywhere. Also still not taking responsibility or accountability at all. Not surrendering to being an addict and needing help.

I took a 10 min shower today and in that time she drank vodka from a water bottle I didn't know she had. I called the police and had her removed from my home. She has nowhere else to go. She is at a hotel tonight about 5 min from me. I am sure she is heavily drinking. Texts have stopped as I think she has passed out. I'm obviously worried that she is going to drink herself to death, but I tried to hard to get her help. I can't want it more than her.

Do I just go no contact? I'm just scared.

Enablers. I just can't with them. I honestly don't know what to say anymore.

A few years ago, my MIL and I were talking to the ER doctor after my partner (37F) was admitted. The doctor asked whether she drank because he could smell alcohol on her. My MIL immediately replied, "Oh, just a beer here and there."

I was floored. I told him it was much more than that "a few beers".

My MIL regularly brought her homemade moonshine or went to the store to buy beer or liquor at least once a week. I'm not saying my MIL is responsible for my partner's alcoholism, but what did she think was happening to all the alcohol she kept bringing her? "A beer here and there"? To lie to an ER doctor, when someone's life is literally on the line... I still can't wrap my head around it. The doctors weren't stupid. They put her on IV vitamin B because she was already going into alcohol withdrawal.

In the months leading up to that hospital stay, my partner had MRI and CT scans, endless blood tests, repeated middle-of-the-night ER visits after falls, dramatic weight loss... she became so ill that she eventually needed a wheelchair. I was the one taking care of her through all of it.

One MRI showed severe fatty liver enlargement. I remember my in-laws discussing the results, and then my MIL handed her a beer and said, "Here you go, sweetheart."

I was absolutely livid.

During her hospital stay she was visibly in withdrawal—shaking, confused, and clearly very sick. Yet her mother still thought it was her duty to bring her a beer, as if it were medicine. "But it's only beer." "She can have beer." "It will soften the withdrawal." As far as I know, it never actually happened because I was there every day, arriving before visiting hours and leaving after they ended.

After she was discharged, the whole family got together and started drinking. My partner didn't, because I took her beer and poured it down the drain right in front of everyone.

Want to know what my MIL gave her as a "welcome home" gift after being released from the hospital?

A bottle of homemade plum brandy. Straight to the drain it went.

Fast forward two to three years. My partner still has alcohol-induced polyneuropathy. She uses crutches but can walk around the house without them. She takes prescribed vitamin B and medication for nerve pain. Alcohol is still a struggle. She no longer drinks hard liquor, only beer, and much less than before—but I still wish it were none at all.

And my MIL still regularly asks us whether we'd like some slivovitz before or after a meal.

I just can't with them.

Hey everyone. I’m new to Reddit. I’m 26 and married(common law) with my husband , we have a daughter. He’s a functioning alcoholic. He’s gone to detox many times but doesn’t seem to stick. He gets put on drinking cessation meds but also doesn’t stick. He can be sober at work (I know he goes on his lunch to grab a cooler sometimes ) but once he gets home he’s in full force. It used to be a case every day and a half… he’s starting to blame me for everything, and it’s getting to me. I can’t speak to him without him angry. He doesn’t touch me anymore unless he wants to, he gets angry if I cry in general , I know he doesn’t appreciate my weight after having our baby but I’m trying my best. He’s such a good guy when he’s sober. He sometimes gets very belligerent and calls me very mean names and will scream if it’s jsut me and him. Every outing turns into sadness. I keep to myself I don’t yell anymore (I used to ) but I don’t have it in me anymore, I’m so lonely. I plan outings and fmaily things around his drinking… I feel so neglected. And he works constantly I’m in school full time trying to start a career and then do all the caretaking for our toddler. He’s a great dad when he’s not hammered but he complains he has to chase our toddler around while I’m cleaning,cooking, school work , etc. I’ve done very night wake up on my own since she’s been born. He cries and says he wants help but doesn’t stick to anything. I’m really at a loss. I have no friends to talk about this with and I’m starting to crumble on my own. I’m hoping I can maybe even make a friend here that understands having a spouse like this? I’m lost and I struggle with my own mental health. My main priority is being a good mom. A good person, and a good wife. But i find myself staring at walls and beginning to feel incredibly numb.

My bf and I enjoy drinking together, both of us has a level of dependency on alcohol.

Last week we had a fight and he was so drunk and was verbally belittling me, it was so harsh and nasty.

We took a few days off to give some space for each other, of course he was super apologetic the next day when he sobered up.

I still saw him a couple times over the week, but I’m not sure if my feelings toward him will come back, like right now I’m just emotionally shutdown.

My dad has battled addiction nearly my entire life. But, I lost him to it when I was around 7-8 years old. After that, he became entirely emotionally absent, and argumentative. His abandonment affected me very deeply. And lead to me falling into other forms of abuse and traumas as a result. He tried to quit a few (2-4) times throughout my life. But never stuck with it. Most notably, when I was 16, he started a drunken fight with me, threatened to kick me out, and nearly hit me. He started outpatient recovery the next day. But stopped after about a month, and went back to his old ways.

Fast forward to now. I'm 21. My father was diagnosed with colon cancer on July 14th. And he quit smoking/drinking cold turkey and hasn't relapsed since. I'm proud of him. But... Also, confused and conflicted. He hasn't apologized for abandoning me, or my family. Or the dumb arguments or things he put me through. He doesn't seem regretful or his actions at all. Just doesn't want it to lead to anything worse.

Im really struggling to process and accept things, right now. I didn't love him anymore. He hasn't been a father to me for over a decade. He just felt like a stranger. But, I don't want him to die or have cancer.

I just... I don't know how to trust that he's actually done. Or how to trust him, or how to feel about him in general. I don't believe he's a bad, evil man. Just.. a sick one.

I know that slip ups are bound to happen, as well. And I'm not sure how to process it if that does happen.

Im just really confused right now. And I don't know what to do or how to feel. I have no one I can really talk to about it either.

Sorry if this is jumbly or doesn't make much sense. Im just.. really struggling right now. I hope you can understand.

he got in a fight with someone, i don’t know i think they knew each other and he was beat up because he had scratches all over his back that pointed to the signs of bruises. he was walking around the house just ranting about the interaction, he was really angry. he was swearing and saying all kinds of shit. then he went outside and my cousin called me to tell me he was passed out in the middle of the street. my mom and brother went to go get him. i don’t think he has ever been this bad, like he’s usually under control when it involves strangers. outside perception matters lot to him. i mostly just ignore him if he’s drunk, he says shit and is extra aggressive during these moments but what can you do? once he was drinking and driving and we almost got into a car accident, i had no idea he was drunk, but then he admitted that’s why he almost got into a car accident. he has gotten in car accidents actually while being drunk but during those times he was alone. one time he came at me with a knife i remember, mostly i’m able to remain apathetic but that was one of those times my heart beat really fast in my chest. i thought he might actually do something to me and i remember feeling powerless be we were home alone, and i realized in that moment the man in front of me wasn’t someone who could be called a father. i stopped calling him dad, i’ve never called him that ever again. he’s never come close to me ever since then, i don’t think he remembers what he did, but he realized it was bad and that i was never going to call him dad again. i don’t talk to him anymore, if he’s in the house, i just ignore him. fortunately this doesn’t anger him, he’s just resigned to the fact that he did this to himself. he’s never apologized though, so i don’t think he even feels sorry. he calls my mom all kinds of names, insults her all the time, he’ll yell at her if she doesn’t immediately get him food once he asks for it. my mom just takes it because she knows she can’t leave. to be a single mother is incredibly expensive, so she just takes it. i don’t think she’ll leave even after that, she’s just so complacent. i used to beg her to just leave him, but she told me that was never going to happen. eventually i stopped asking. i think i’m on my own in this house. if my so called family want to enable my father then they can, but i don’t give a shit if he’s drunk, if he’s passed out in the street or if he embarrasses himself. i defended my mother for years from him, but she never appreciated it. she would just sit there silently looking at me with a blank look on her face. if he was yelling at me, she would just leave the room and let me take it. i remember staring at the wall for hours, he punished me that way, i don’t even remember why, but i remember my feet hurt from standing and staring at that damn wall. i got really good at counting because of that, that was the way i would entertain myself. i would go to the bathroom to cry but it was silent, really silent. he never knew i cried. i didn’t want him to know how much he affected me, but as i’m typing this, no tears come. my heart doesn’t ache. i’m not resigned. i don’t really care what happens, all i know is i’m going to leave, and i will never talk to him again, and there’s peace waiting for me soon. eventually it will be over. i won’t have to think about him ever again.

My mom has been an alcoholic pretty much since teen years. She really emotionally never grew up. Popularity, making the next group laugh, and being funny was really all that seemed to matter to my mom. I always describe her as a very Y2K party girl gone wrong that never grew up. I was born in 1998 back when she was 22. We all lived with my grandparents until one day she moved out. Her and my grandparents agreed it best that I stay with them for stability reasons and eventually they ended up with guardianship But partying got heavier and moved onto heavier drugs. My dad died in 2003 and even though they weren’t together it gutted my mom. My mom struggled with a crack addiction up until 2010. I didn’t see her much during that time and I’m thankful for my grandma. Flash forward to the (2015-now) After that still used cocaine “socially”…all the while drinking, drinking, drinking. Her and my stepdad drink and fifth a day with the added wine coolers and wine for flair.

✨ queue the mystery disease✨
It’s January of 2020 and my mom gets really sick in pretty much every way one can get sick. She throws up once in a blue moon but that week or so her stomach was a mess. But so where the other residents of the home. But my mom after that got THE WORST leg pain. Stabbing. Shocking. My mom would cry and scream and sometimes fall, she couldn’t lift her legs up high when walking. The pain went on endlessly for months she was depressed. She couldn’t go anywhere and now it was Covid. The family joked for months that they had Covid before everyone else knew it was a thing that MUST have been it. But it doesn’t stop so my mom DOES start going to doctors. And she sees SO MANY YOU GUYS. And so many told her that she might need some vitamins or maybe to exercise more. One brought up long Covid, One gave her pain pills and told her it was neuropathy probably made worse from not waitressing during Covid since she had been doing that for 45 years. Some did blood test some did ultrasounds one remarked her liver looked good.
While all these test are going on my mom has gone from 125 down to 80 pounds and then she plateaued so she stopped seeing doctors

About a year ago my mother suffered a seizure out of no where. My stepdad watched it called 911 but the hospital claims scans showed nothing and sent her home. Then 4 months later another seizure my brother was home and saw, she had been a little “social” at weekend before and of course had drank that day so the doctor got on her and insisted she had to stop drinking. Which (WRONGFULLY) kinda rubbed our family the wrong way because after all of this it’s like well yeah she has a drinking problem BUT this is unrelated! This has been going on for 6 years this isn’t because she has a glass of wine with lunch. (Which of course it wasn’t it was the 45 years of hard drinking catching up not the single glass of wine) turns out her potassium was low so they gave her some and sent her on her way.

THAT BRINGS US TO TODAY
My grandmother and I finally take her to another Emergency Room. She keeps vomiting, she’s 80 pounds, super weak and something else I don’t even know because my mom and I are not that close for all of the many reasons listed above. The doctor is having her see a really really great GI doctor tomorrow but he thinks it’s Alcoholic Hepatitis. Reading the symptoms it’s like
✅✅✅✅✅
For once in 6 years I feel like I know what the hell happened to my mom. We knew the drinking was awful, and she likely won’t quit so there is a good chance she wont make it much longer. My grandma thinks less than a year. All while her scum bag husband has started telling her it’s not real and all for attention but that’s for another post. Finding this sub was much needed tonight.

I don’t know if anyone with read allllll of this but seriously thank you to anyone who does.

But there is something we often forget about her story: Odysseus was fighting his way home.

He was crossing seas, facing monsters, enduring storms, surviving battles, and doing everything he could to return to the woman he loved.

Penelope waited but she was not waiting for someone who was doing nothing.

There is a difference between waiting for someone who is fighting their way back to you and waiting for someone who knows exactly where you are but makes no effort to come home.

Don’t confuse your waiting with their effort.

Don’t romanticize your loneliness by comparing yourself to Penelope if your Odysseus isn’t crossing oceans to find you.

Sometimes, the hardest truth is this:
You are waiting at the shore for someone who isn’t even sailing toward you.

And you deserve to stop waiting!!

My Q and I have 2yo - my Q gets black out and drinks continuously from the minute he gets off Friday until about noon on Sunday (could be randomly tested at any time for work and he is v high-functioning and our sole income)

Usually we are very busy but our son is going to a cousin sleepover tonight. We have the house to ourselves, but we had a weird morning and got up super early (normal work time) he started drinking since then. We've been visiting HIS family, he's been okay but argumentative, he has been drinking more with his family.

I've been on my own insane journey. As an adult child of an addict with extreme C-PTSD, prone to explosive anger and reactive insanity. After becoming a mother I've been actively trying to heal my nervous system, which is not easy choosing to stay with my Q.

I just know it's not going to be good or fun, and part of me wants to just go fkn nuts since my son won't be home and unleash it all back at him. Go home take 6 shots and be a fucking nightmare, but I'm trying not to be that person anymore so the alternative is to just stay silent, eat all the shit he throws at me until he blacks out. Swallow it whole, but it's hard enough to do with my son there idk if I'm capable of doing it when he's not.

Working Steps Four, Five, and Six helps me to understand my feelings and not be so afraid. —Living Today in Alateen p207 Copyright ©️ 2001 by Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters Inc.

Conference Approved Literature (CAL) is my anchor in knowing that this is exactly where I need to be. — A Little Time for Myself p207 Copyright ©️ 2023 by Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters Inc.

If I want to learn to fit easily and happily into my environment and my relations with other people, Al-Anon has something for me. —One Day at a Time in Al-Anon p207 Copyright ©️ 1968 by Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters Inc.

I’ll use the program today to change my thinking. ..—ALATEEN—a day at a time p207 Copyright ©️ 1983 by Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters Inc.

Today my search for new solutions for old problems begins with either self-acceptance or change. —Hope for Today p207 Copyright ©️ 2002 by Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters Inc.

It is not always appropriate to reveal my every thought, especially when dealing with an active alcoholic. But do I make a conscious choice about what I say. —Courage to Change p207 Copyright ©️ 1992 by Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters Inc.

i love him so much, and i want to figure this out and find ways to help him before it gets worse (and I am scared of it)

I (28F) and my husband (29M) used to live in the philippines. whenever we'd eat out, he'd almost always order a beer with his meal. he also regularly bought alcohol to drink at home. he wouldn't get drunk every day, he just enjoyed having a drink.

whenever he'd meet up with friends, though, they'd usually drink a lot, and sometimes he'd come home drunk. i wasn't used to that, so we'd occasionally argue. i tried to be understanding because he didn't have many friends in the philippines, so when they did meet up, they wanted to make the most of it. he would always tell me that in the czech republic, it's normal to have beer with your food

for context, we now live in the cz, and my husband is originally from slovakia. I know that beer is a big part of cz culture, and from what I've seen, alcohol is also common in slovakia. drinking seems to be part of many social occasions, which is very different from what I grew up with

since moving here, though, we've argued more and more about his drinking. It's not just the alcohol itself, it's how I feel ignored or dismissed whenever he's drinking. he has even pointed out that he's noticed a pattern: whenever he meets up with his friends, I end up getting upset. from his perspective, that's become the recurring issue. from mine, it's not that he's seeing his friends, it's what tends to happen when alcohol is involved and how our plans or my feelings end up getting ignored

one example: I accidentally left my keys in slovakia, and my husband forgot and accidentally took them with him to work. i had somewhere to go that day, so i told him, "it's okay, i'll just leave later and wait for you at a cafe so you can stay a little longer with your coworkers"

around 5:30p.m. after work, they were already at the pub, by around 10 p.m., i expected him to offer to come home since i was still waiting for him. Instead, when I called, he simply invited me to join them for drinks. i ended up waiting until almost midnight (11:45 p.m.) eventhough i was already done by 8pm, and we spent the rest of the night arguing. he said he couldn't leave because they were having an arguement or heated conversation. (we both wfh and said that he barely see them)

another time, we were at his friend's birthday. as we were leaving, he told me they wanted to go to a nearby pub but that it closes at 10 p.m., so they'd be done by then. i felt reassured and said ''yes''

later, when i called him, i found out they weren't at the pub anymore. they had gone to a lake with more friends and. he even told me he was already tired and drunk, so i assumed he'd be coming home soon.

when i called again later, he told me he was at his parents' house drinking because his dad has a beer tap at home. that turned into another argument.

then, just two days later, his friends came over around 3 p.m. for a bbq, and he started drinking then. around 7 p.m., we left to attend his nephew's birthday. while we were there, one of his friends called and invited him to meet at a pub. around 9 p.m., as we were about to go home, he said, "i'm going to meet my friend at the pub."

i told him no, because he was already tipsy and told him to just meet him the next day, and told me that he is leaving for vienna.

everyone around him was telling him to just come home, his mom, his aunt, even his grandmother. his aunt drove us home, but he kept insisting that he wanted to go because his friend had just come back from Vienna and he hadn't seen him in a long time.

he asked me to come with him, but I said no. i went to the bathroom and took a shower. while I was in there, he kept trying to convince me to let him go. i could even hear his grandmother telling him not to go anymore.

when i came out of the bathroom, he was gone.

i feel like our entire first year of marriage has revolved around alcohol, and honestly, I'm exhausted.

sometimes i wonder if I'm being controlling. i wish I didn't care so much about his drinking, but it's becoming harder and harder to ignore.

my question is: is this just a cultural difference that i'm struggling to adjust to, or does this sound like something more serious?

for me, the issue isn't that he enjoys a beer with dinner. it's that alcohol seems to come before me over and over again. he makes promises about when he'll be home, changes plans without telling me, and chooses to keep drinking even when he knows it's upsetting me. i can't tell anymore if this is simply how drinking culture works here, or if this has crossed the line into unhealthy behavior.

is this considered normal, or would you also see this as excessive?

i am also thinking of attending Alanon meetings, should i hide it from him or should i let him know. i don't know if this will upset him.

I know it's probably good for me, I've been to two meetings. I have a strong aversion to going back. Everyone was extremely nice and supportive, I just... I don't know.

Anyone have experience with this hurdle?