nitabug0107

I read through a few forums and decided to give it a try. This is my first post and first time dealing with alcoholism on a relationship level.

A few months ago, an old high school friend contacted me. We reconnected and things were absolutely amazing. He is the sweetest guy and when we are together, it feels like he really cares.

It wasn't long before I found out he is an alcoholic. A week into our relationship, I encouraged him to quit drinking.... "It's me or the bottle!" On January 1st, He quit cold turkey and the detox symptoms were unbearable. He vomited for days and days. He shook and cried in pain. Finally, I couldn't handle seeing him that way, I spent my 31st birthday (January 7th) and our 3rd date in the ICU holding his hand and begging nurses to make him better. Everyone told me that I was a strong source of support and he was going to need me during this recovery journey. I believed that he was going to change.

About a week later, I invited him to spend time with me at my home. He had been out of the hospital and seemed to be doing well now that he was past the detox process. I am new to what it means to be with someone in recovery, so I didn't know what to expect. The deal was he could come stay with me while he looked for a new job and a new apartment (his alcoholism had already taken these things away from him).

During his stay with me, he had what the doctors called an Absent Seizure. During the seizure, he bit his tongue and it swelled into a hematoma. I got home from work to find him passed out in the living room, not breathing. His throat was closing and there was little time to help him once we arrived to the ER. My boyfriend's alcoholism is so bad that he does not respond to anesthesia or other sedatives. He wouldn't go to sleep. The doctors advised me that we would surly lose him if I didn't act quickly. I signed Emergency Power of Attorney papers and gave doctors permission to insert a respirator while he was still awake. I watched the horrible experience, but was assured that it was the right thing. He was alive....for now. A few hours later, my boyfriends organs began to crash, his spleen, his liver, his kidneys.... I was instructed to contact a next of kin. His alcoholism was actually killing him.

I met my boyfriend's parents for the first time in a small room just away from the trauma center. There was no time to worry about first appearances or think about my outfit. There I was, 2am, tired, dirty with his blood, drool and vomit down my clothes, and scared. Not the ideal first meeting. Plus, I'd only been dating their son since just before Christmas and the first thing I said to them was "Hi, I'm sorry to meet you this way, but your son is on a respirator and his organs are failing."

They thanked me over and over. They called me an angel and credit me to saving their son's life. They know he has a problem with drinking, but could never get through to him. We all agreed this hospital stay has to be what finally makes him want to change.

He pulled through and survived the ordeal. Made promises to change. He had a follow up appointment at the hospital two days after he was discharged. I told him it was fine if he wanted to stay with me to avoid driving a long distance to go to the doctor. WRONG DECISION ALERT!

He got home from his appointment and was already hammered drunk. I was so upset I didn't know what to do. I called my mother and cried and cried. She told me to kick him out. I told her he was too drunk to drive. While I was on the phone, he had overheard that I was going to kick him out and he decided to leave on his own. Long story short, I got a phone call at 3am from the police station, he was arrested on a DUI just 2 blocks from my apartment. I went through the process of getting him bailed out. His parents transferred me the money and once he was sober enough to drive, I sent him on his way.

The next day, I returned home from work to find his truck in my apartment parking lot. I thought, "Well, maybe he's here to apologize and get his things. I can be civil and at least talk to him a little." THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN!

I approached his truck and noticed that the engine was still running. I knocked on the window but he didn't respond. YOU GUESSED IT.... HE WAS DRUNK. So drunk he couldn't figure out how to unlock the truck door or roll down the window so that I could get to him. I had no choice but to call 9-1-1 because I can't leave him drunk and passed out in a running vehicle.

At the advice of law enforcement and paramedics, I had him Marchman Acted that night. He spent the next 4 days in a behavioral center. His parents live almost 2 hours away, so trying to be a good person, I served as a liaison. I went to see him every day at lunch time and again in the evenings. If you have never been escorted through a mental hospital, the first time is something right out of a horror movie. It's cold, it's dark, and the hallways built to be a blank maze of confusion. I held his hand and cried. I told him we'd get through this together. He promised he'd change. He was discharged to the care of his mother on January 28th.

He was sober the entire month of February! I had gone to see him at his mothers and he was so happy and healthy looking. He had been doing some work for a local farmer, spending time with his family, and looking for recovery centers and rehab programs. I felt like he had made some real, positive changes. He wanted this!

Four days ago, March 4th, he called me and asked if we could spend some time together. Away from the supervision of his parents (who insisted we kept the bedroom door open while we were visiting in their home) I said "Sure....we're 30 year old adults after all...we deserve some privacy and you've been sober almost a whole month."

Today, March 8th, I went home to see him during my lunch break. Having him with me for the last few days had been so enjoyable now that he wasn't drinking. I thought it would be nice to enjoy the afternoon break with him. I arrived at 12:15pm and promptly put him and his things out on the sidewalk by 12:25pm. When I walked into my apartment, it reeked of bourbon. I could hear him drunkenly moan and groan from the guest room. My apartment was a wreck, the screen door was open and the thermostat was set to heat (We live in Florida). In the few hours of the morning that I was gone to work, he had managed to take a taxi to the liquor store, consume 750 ml of Jim Beam (the whole thing), trash my home, and run up my electric bill.

I threw his things together, called a cab, and saw him off just before 1pm. I told the cab driver to take him to the nearest hotel or at least somewhere safe, but that he was not to return to my home at any amount of begging. It's now 4:55 pm the same day and I'm reading forum after forum trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do now. I haven't heard from him. I don't know where he is. I'm worried. I called his parents and let them know what happened. They told me that they weren't surprised and didn't think it would take this many days for him to relapse. They supported my decision to make him leave. But now, we're all lost and confused and have no idea where he is. I'm at work and have not tried to reach out to him. I'm afraid if I call him, I'll be talked into having him back at my apartment. I care for him very deeply and want what is best for him. I want so badly for him to really get better and fight this disease so that maybe, just maybe he and I can build a real, healthy relationship. I love his family, I care so much about them. We have all been through so much in such a short amount of time, I feel like I have been part of him and his family for years already. But I can not keep doing this to myself! He has to love himself before he can truly love me.

I refuse to become a Codependent! I will stand by my choice to not have him drinking or drunk in my home!

But my heart aches for him and I'm terrified that sending him out this afternoon is only going to mean danger and trouble for everyone. I want to be a good person and help, but I know that reaching out to him on my own is not the best idea right now. But I NEED to know that he's okay. If he ends up in jail, or the hospital, or God forbid he ends up dead, it'll be my phone that rings. If and when it does, should I still help him? Or should I let him be?