As our relationship progressed, people around us felt more comfortable asking me why his eyes always seemed glazed over, and why he often told the same story twice. How did he break his ankle just by walking down the stairs?When I would repeat those questions to him, he’d shrug his shoulders and say, “That’s just the way I am.”One night, while we were watching a movie in his bed, I found an empty pint-sized bottle of vodka in with his sheets.And there it was: a half-empty pint-sized bottle of vodka in his trunk. Ultimately, it was the lying that undid the little we had left.He didn’t want to get better; he wanted to continue pretending he was better without putting in any of the hard work it takes to become a recovering alcoholic.
He was charming and attentive, and he made me feel like he would never be unfaithful to me.My therapist once said: “If you have family members who are alcoholics, you have no choice but to stand by them.But dating an alcoholic is completely different: You choose to be in a relationship with an alcoholic, and that is one choice I would never recommend.”I was two years into my relationship when she said this to me, but I wasn’t strong enough to leave until two more.By the time I got home, he was in his usual spot on the couch, out cold.I quickly grabbed his keys and sprinted to the parking lot.
He’d deny drinks when they were offered to him, but then secretly drink miniature bottles of vodka throughout the day.