There is an empty bottle and a mostly empty bottle of vodka on the shelf in my middle daughter's room. This is what she found when she raided my closet last week Monday and it's been sitting there since. We haven't spoken about it. Because well, for the most part we haven't spoken much.
I imagine perhaps she kept it initially in case I showed any threatening signs of withdrawal, but that doesn't explain why it's still there. I don't think it's a test? Could be a reminder to herself not to get comfie with me just yet. I dunno. I don't care that it's there - it is not tempting to me, would not be enough to get me even a bit buzzed even if it was, would be life-threatening due to the nightly Klonopin, and would likely make me violently ill due to the antabuse.
For now it's just a question sitting on a shelf and I can live with that.
I may have mentioned that I went to therapy for close to two years: this didn't help with the drinking (and that's not why I went) but did help with other things. One of those is being able to tolerate the unknown and let things unfold as they will. Being anxious about things I can't know is useless.