jluebs

Sorry so long - but I feel it is all necessary to describe what I am going through.

My boyfriend and I have known each other for about a year. We talked on the phone almost every day, and met up a few times, and knew we were going to be in a relationship together. We were both just waiting until we were ready as we had both been through bad breakups in the last 1-2 years. I knew I loved him long before we started officially dating, which was a little over 2 months ago. I stayed at his house a lot, and we would drink together a lot. I thought it was a little excessive, but I enjoy drinking so didn't think too much of it.

Then I started to notice him drinking in the morning, brining alcohol everywhere. I knew he had a problem. And I was going to talk to him about it, but he actually came to me with it. He woke me up one morning and said he couldn't do it anymore. That he had a problem. That 2 years ago he was actually in rehab for 3 months and started drinking again a year later. He said he couldn't afford rehab but he had to stop. I offered to help him detox and to take care of him. So that's what we did. It took about 6 days before he was feeling better. But on the 3rd day I went to the grocery store and while I was gone, he woke up on the floor, not remembering anything, to see a table knocked over and his face bruised and bloody. I told him it was probably just a symptom of the withdrawals.

After the sixth day, I needed to go home. There was a bottle of wine in the fridge, that he had never opened, and I stuck it in my bag before I left. But he saw me, and got mad. He told me that he can drink if he wants to, and to leave the wine there. So I did. And later that night he told me he was having one glass of wine. And I went there the next night, and there had only been one glass of wine gone. Anyways, eventually after about a week he was full-blown drinking again. I didn't try to stop him after getting advice about not interfering and letting him do what he wants. I hated being around him while drunk because he would either sleep all of the time, or be really happy and tell me things that he wouldn't remember. He was always contradicting himself or telling me that he had told me something, when he actually hadn't. And then making me feel like an idiot because I don't remember.

Anyways... he came to me again, saying that he messed up, and needed to detox again. So I agreed to help him through it. But this time he had just started a new job and could only do it over the weekend. So he stopped drinking Friday after work, and I spent the weekend with him detoxing. It was a lot easier for him this time. He had to go to work Monday morning, still with the shakes. I got a call from him later that night that he was in the hospital. He had had a seizure at work, and they called an ambulance. The doctor said he had grand mal seizures, and that he should see a neurologist. I asked if he told her that he had just quit drinking, he said yes. But I'm not sure if I believe that. He was put on a medication to help the seizures not come back, but he needed to see if he had a brain tumor or lesions that were causing the seizures. I was/am convinced it was because of the withdrawals.

He had been sober for a week and a half. Things were so good. I thought he had done it. But 2 nights ago, I was on the phone with him and he sounded drunk. I asked if he had been drinking and he said no. I was talking to him for about 45 minutes, and then he just stopped talking. He wouldn't answer when I called back. He eventually called me back, and said he thinks he just had a seizure and he could barely talk. Crying, short of breath. And then he started making awful noises, like he was having another seizure. But then it would go away, and I would try to talk to him but I couldn't understand him. I told him that I was going to call him back in 2 minutes, I was going to go get my things and then drive down to his house (which is 45 minutes away). The entire drive down there, he was on the phone with me, crying and screaming in pain and making strange noises, then he would calm down, say he is fine, tell me not to call an ambulance, and this would repeat every 5 minutes. I got there as fast as I could.

When I got there, I laid in bed with him and comforted him, and he had some more of these mini-seizures. He told me that he was scared because the medication hadn't worked, and he said he has been having the mini-seizures for a week, even at work. I doubted that, because I don't know how he could hide the flailing and pain while at work. Eventually he went to sleep, and I looked through his kitchen for signs of liquor. And sure enough, there was a bottle of vodka that looked like it had maybe 5 shots taken out of it. I called some friends for advice, then went to sleep on his couch. I woke him up in the morning, and then went back on the couch. I heard him get up, pour some juice, and then I heard the cupboard with the vodka in it open, I heard the lid open and close. He went into the shower, I looked everywhere for the bottle, but it was hidden.

I went to my car, and started writing him a letter. That I loved him so much, and wanted nothing more than to have a life with the sober him. But that I couldn't watch him kill himself anymore. That I saw the bottle, I know he had been drinking. That is has been too painful for me to watch him like this. That those seizures he is having is because of the alcohol. That he needed to make a choice, whether he wants to be this person, or if he wants to be serious about being sober and healthy. And that until he made that decision, I couldn't be around him while he is drinking. I told him it was so hard for me to say this, and how much I loved him. I told him that if he wanted to talk about this, to please call me.

I went back into his apartment. I gave him a hug, and a kiss, and while he was asking what was wrong, I handed him the letter. And I said I have to go, I love you. Then I left.

This was the hardest thing I had ever done. Because I know that I was risking our relationship by doing what I was doing. But I felt I had to.

A few minutes later, I got a voicemail from him saying 'I haven't read this whole letter yet, but I just wanted to tell you that I want my keys back. I was hoping to get them from you while you were still in town so you don't have to come back here. But yeah, I'm going to need those back.'

Since then, I have been devastated. It has been two days and I have not heard from him. I can't stop crying, I can't stop thinking maybe I did too much. I don't want our relationship to be over, and I don't want him to be angry with me. I just don't know what to do. There is nothing more than I want to call him and try to get him to talk to me about this, but I am not sure if that would be a good thing. I am completely, utterly fearful that he is not going to want to be with me after this, and that he is not going to want to get sober. Or that he is going to end up drinking so much now that he dies. I don't know what to do. I love him so much and I don't know what to do. Any advice is appreciated.

Thanks.