Coping with a relapse
Back in July, I posted about my alcoholic friend Michael whom has been struggling with an alcohol addiction for the past three years. After being in and out of the ICU, detox centers, and being slapped with a DUI, none of this seemed to stop Michael from the path of self-destruction. After one too many relapses, I bowed out, unable to handle the constant emotional distress on our deteriorating friendship. I left the fate of our friendship in Michael's hands -- making it clear that the only way I could remain in his life was if he was sober and making a committed effort to stay that way.
About a month later, I contacted him just to see how he was doing. By that time his probation had been initiated from his DUI offense and he entered the ARD (Accelerated Rehabilitative Dispostion) Program. He also willingly entered a counseling center. My hope escalated, but I was cautiously optimistic. We began talking again.
He remained sober for 2 months and I was almost convinced that my worries were over. Things were going so well and nothing could describe the elation I felt to have my friend back to his sober self. He was optimistic, productive, and much happier than I'd seen him in months.
But then he relapsed. Two months of happiness came to a blunt halt.
I was utterly crushed when I first found out. At first he denied it; chalked up his slurred speech and illogical thinking to being tired and missing meals (he has a problem with malnourishment). Even though dozens of red flags started popping up and all my internal instincts pointed to alcohol, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Concerned for his health, I hopped on Google and searched for symptoms of drunkenness without actually being drunk (silly, I know). He seemed to fit the criteria for diabetes (which runs in his family) as well as hypoglycemia (based on his poor eating habits). I was genuinely convinced that he had a serious medical issue and felt silly for accusing him of drinking.
But, as it turns out, my first instinct was correct and he was indeed drunk. One day I went to his house and as I leaned in to greet him with a hug, I immediately smelled the alcohol on him. I began to cry and so did he. And so I had to go through my speech for the upteenth time about how I couldn't be in his life if he was going to continue to drink. That I love him dearly but I can't stand around and support his self-destructive behaviors. So, I had to make the heart-wrenching decision to disconnect myself from him. Again.
It's been a month since that day, and he's still drinking at the risk of going to jail (he's still on probation), losing his home, going broke, wrecking his schooling, and losing everyone near and dear to him. What more is it going to take for this man to get on the straight and narrow?