My Romantic Partner – was an ex-alcoholic who relapsed while with me.
…but not because of me(!)
Of course, we never intended for it to happen, and in many ways we were good for each other, but in the most important ways, we enabled each other’s alcoholism, if I’m honest.
He’d been in treatment before.
We met in treatment, him for the third time, me for the second, but we didn’t get together til after. I think that’s when the loneliness kicks in more, and you feel the loss of your coping substance more.
I knew what I *should* be doing, but never did. Never worked out why. I told myself our relationship would last, it was enough, I was enough, even if I did relapse now and again…
– My Family –
Clearly had good intentions, but didn’t truly help me.
Don’t get me wrong. I had a great upbringing, none of the usual hardships. Life when I was young was easy.
But later, I was involved in a hugely traumatic event, that shook me to the core.
At that point, you have nothing left, no matter how much you started with. I had catastrophic losses in my life that……I’m not ready to share just yet.
Getting past it and staying alive was a miracle.
So the bottle didn’t feel like such a sin at the time.
My parents never really saw me at my worst. They knew I was having issues with drink. So bailing me out financially was the right thing to do for them.
Well, once I got that money, I think you know what I did with it.
Knew what was going on, and got too close to it. Some of them were affected too.
I told them, in my sober flashes, to get some boundaries, and some self-respect, and stay the hell away from me.
The truth is, I believe I came as close to the edge of life as I believe it’s possible to come.
Going through withdrawal and detox, looking down the barrel of the worst version of me, all the memories came back, too quickly.
I needed to make a change. No matter the pain.