His bottom was death
Hello SR Friends.
I've been a long time lurker on this board and this is my first post.
My XAH died on July 3 from kidney and liver failure. He tried to get medical attention but it was too late. The body is not meant to drink 1+ liter of vodka daily. It was just too much for his body to handle. He was only 51.
XAH and I were married 7 years. He was always a drinker but it was always just fun-at the bowling alley, golfing, football games, etc. However, after his mother died, he could never cope and began to progressively increase the amount of liquor he drank until it got out of hand.
About two years ago I started seeing a counselor and went to a few al-anon meetings. I begged him to get help. I yelled and screamed at him. I begged and pleaded with him to get help. I would buy him books and give them to him. I tried tough love. I called treatment centers for him. Sadly, he never took the matter in his own hands to get treatment.
Eventually I divorced him because I could not watch him drink himself away. He never filed a response to the divorce and when it came time for him to leave our house, he did not even pack his toothbrush. I had to do everything for him. Post divorce, we remained in contact a few times per week. While he was not a mean person at heart, sometimes when he drank he said things that hurt my feelings. Despite this, he always told me he loved me, still called me his wife,and continued to wear his wedding ring.
4 months after our divorce, he called me to tell me he was in the hospital. I rushed to his bedside only to see a weak man whose beautiful blue eyes were now surrounded by yellow. He was so frail. His once strong arms and shoulders had wasted away. He was in kidney and liver failure. Three days later he developed pneumonia and his lungs shut down. Two days later, he was placed on a breathing machine, only to have that withdrawn a day later. He died about 8 hours later.
While very sad, it was a peaceful death. I was laying next to him, stroking his hand and arm, telling him how much I loved him and how thankful I was for the times we had together. It was dark quiet, and calm.
Now I am left to pick up the pieces. His ashes sit on my mantle. I planned his funeral, I am handling his estate. While we were not technically married, I feel very much like a widow. I would have never divorced him had he not made my life unbearable with the drinking.
I feel a tremendous amount of guilt in my heart. Perhaps if I hadn't left, he wouldn't have died so quickly. Maybe if I hadn't pushed him to quit drinking, he would have done it on his own. Why didn't I have an intervention and call everyone he knew to help? In my mind, I know I did the right thing. I hope one day I feel that peace in my heart also. For right now, I miss him so much. I wish I knew his spirit was still alive and that he forgives me for divorcing him.
I'm not sure exactly why I'm posting this. Maybe it's because this is a place I've turned to for the last few years to gain perspective and strength. I know I didn't cause it, I couldn't cure it, and obviously I couldn't control it. It still hurts. A lot. I'm not sure where to go from here. One day at a time I suppose. Thank you for reading.