My ABF is in the midst of a binge and I have detached to the best of my ability, keeping things as normal (whatever normal is, living with an A) as possible, keeping daily routines and the like.
After his last binge where I lost control over my emotions as much as he did over his drinking, I vowed that I would never let that happen again. I know I do love him but not the disease and it has not been easy to equate one with the other, nor to detach. The urge for me to engage him, to tell him he needs help has been overwhelming but what I keep forgetting is that in doing so, I take away his dignity to be who he is and to let him do what he does. Whether my form of detachment is working or not, I don't know, he went out after dinner - looking like hell, feeling like hell - to make matters worse, he is tapering off anti-depressants - and when I asked him if he was OK, he kind of mumbled something and left. Since he has been gone, I find myself not obsessing when he will be home, waiting for the door to open or things like that.
When he is drinking, I can't stand the smell of stale beer or the sound of another can being opened. I have held back physically-we were always cuddlers and touchers but not for the past few days. I don't think that means I'm falling out of love with him, just that the smell of beer, the sound of another can being opened reminds me of his disease and I do hold back on affection.