Carolyn 93

I'm sure this is a broken record to many of you... A year ago (almost to the day!) I fell hopelessly and maddeningly in love with a man via the internet. It was a vampire as such, sucking from me my determination and will. In that fury and excitement and hope for a life without worry (financial), I abandoned all I had known and loved; a drive and job as a freelance writer as well as an ostensibly loving relationship with a man who had nothing going for himself (no driver's license, no education, no potential for anything beyond minimum wage, etc.). For the first time in my adult life, I was presented with someone with education, class (speaks 5 languages), charm (too much for my own good apparently), and resources (can I not admit that his modicum of wealth was an attraction?).

The rub? Kevin is an alcoholic. Have you heard this before? I am the daughter and granddaughter of alcoholics. My mother was verbally abusive and my grandfather (whom I never met), ironically worked with Elliot Ness (yes, the Untouchables!), but in Pittsburgh - the one place where the Untouchables were unsuccessful; they found the bootleg but only to take it home and drink it!

To put it succinctly, I have fallen desperately in love with someone I beginning to dislike because of who he becomes when he drinks -- I suppose that is the Gemini in me; an ability to put myself in two dichotomous positions at once. I feel like Evelyn Nesbit trapped in a gilded cage, not knowing to whom I can turn or what to do with myself.

I am an enabler and I realize it. Having a slightly polarized personality myself, I see only two choices; continuing the life I have begun with him and dealing with his addiction, or leaving him. I have spoken with his mother about conducting an intervention, so I suppose there is a third choice.

I have spoken with Kevin about attending AA meetings; he has already done 3 months jail time and 9 months house arrest for a DUI (all of which involved al-anon). He refuses. The son of a murder victim, he has anxiety attacks and claims he only has two choices: self-medication with alcohol or a useless drug-induced state on Klonopin. Many times he does both; takes a Klonopin in the morning but then continues to drink all day.

I suppose my next step is to find al-anon meetings, huh? I have never been to one. I remember my mother going to 28-day programs and being told to leave after five or ten, "We can't help you Mrs. XXXX." I watched my father enable my mother for their 55 year marriage. Begging him to leave her, I now understand how love for a person ties you to them, despite what they do to themselves or those around them.

I met Kevin a year ago and three months into our relationship, my father passed away (this last February), just over a year after my mother did. I have lost both of my parents in the past 18 months and cry that I am alone in this with no one to turn to. "You've made your decision, Carolyn, deal with it..." is what I hear from my sisters. We were never a family that discussed problems at all, let alone my mother's alcoholism. They met Kevin for the first time at my father's funeral and he arrived there intoxicated (not falling down drunk, but embarassingly enough to be noticeable). Since then, they have essentially wiped their hands of me.

I've ranted enough. Thanks for listening. I'm gonna click around and read others' posts and hopefully gain some strength from other survivors.

Oh yeah - and one last thing -- the real rub about my previous life's existence/job? I was/am a food and WINE writer.