Eight and a half years later...
It makes no sense to me. I don't get it at all. I feel like I went through hell for four years, waiting for him to hit his own personal bottom and decide to get sober. Couples counselors wouldn't even talk to us until he stopped drinking -- so the problems just piled up. Four years, and one day he decides to take it on -- and kept it up. Sober for 8 and a half years. I have to say, it took another four years for me to feel like maybe I didn't have to check his eyes and his breath every time he came home. But he did it, and he promised me he'd never drink again -- completely understanding that making that choice would be the same as making the choice to lose his wife, family, and home.
I just found out that he's been drinking again.
Vicious, evil, hurtful things came out of his mouth: in his drunken, blacked-out stupor he accused me of being the cause of all of the evils that led to his drinking. I am crushed, destroyed, shattered. The life I'd hoped we'd have now seems impossible. I think I HAVE TO let him go. I have to, and I don't know how.