LeSigh

I realised my husband had a problem.

It was the night of the olympics opening ceremony. We were on a ferry to travel home to my parents for the weekend. My husband had been off sick with "depression" for 3 months and recently returned to work. Things had been very difficult since we were married less then a year earlier.

I was watching the ceremony, while he suggested he would go and get us some dinner. You know where this goes.

He took forever.

Mr bean was in the orchestra, playing chariots of fire, and I thought to myself, H would really enjoy this, I wonder where he has got to.. I took a walk round the boat to find him at the back of the queue for food. He said that the queue had been really long, he was at the back of it because no one had joined after him.

I went back to my seat.

He joined me a while later, absolutely leglessly drunk. He tripped with the movement of the ferry, smeared our dinner up the carpet, and fell flat on his face. I was furious, confused, embarrassed, humiliated. He picked up the chips and burgers, trying to reshape them for us to eat, but they were full of fluff, and hair, and floor crap. He was too drunk to notice, and ate his, head rolling around like a marble.

Eventually he fell asleep, and I wept all the way to Ireland.

He barely spoke to my parents for the weekend, and refused to join us for meals, making us late for everything we'd planned.

It was horrendous.

But also marked the beginning of my journey out of denial.

They are showing the ceremony tonight on uk tv. I watch with tears streaming down my face. Relief. Disbelief at how far I have come.

I couldn't have got here without the support of SR.

So very grateful.

Thank you.