How do you let go of the "is he drinking" feeling?
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Thread Starter
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: New Castle Pa
Posts: 67
How do you let go of the "is he drinking" feeling?
Hello everyone, MY AH has been on again off again for the past few months in and out of rehab and the hospital. I have left came back kicked him out let him come back you know the typical want to liove differently but dont know how to do it.
He says he is 5 days sober but this gut feeling tells me when he leaves to do whatever he does he is drinking..... I know I am supposed to work on me and not worry about him however..
IT kills me to think that he is "getting away" with having his cake and eating it to, He wants a family but he wants to drink,. I want a family but want him to stop.
Detatching.................... :Flush: TO HARD.... he makes it hard to detatch, I dont want to be with him if he drinks and when he drinks he wants to do so much together and makes it hard to say no.
I am the queen of enabeling..... I still find myself secretly smelling his breath when he comes in, or searching the truck when he gets home..... not because I think I can control him but I want what I want and that is for him to stop so we can make this family work.
He is off to a meeting this morning since he missed last night... but a small part of me thinks yeah thats where your going........ I hate living like this.... this can't be as good as it gets??
He says he is 5 days sober but this gut feeling tells me when he leaves to do whatever he does he is drinking..... I know I am supposed to work on me and not worry about him however..
IT kills me to think that he is "getting away" with having his cake and eating it to, He wants a family but he wants to drink,. I want a family but want him to stop.
Detatching.................... :Flush: TO HARD.... he makes it hard to detatch, I dont want to be with him if he drinks and when he drinks he wants to do so much together and makes it hard to say no.
I am the queen of enabeling..... I still find myself secretly smelling his breath when he comes in, or searching the truck when he gets home..... not because I think I can control him but I want what I want and that is for him to stop so we can make this family work.
He is off to a meeting this morning since he missed last night... but a small part of me thinks yeah thats where your going........ I hate living like this.... this can't be as good as it gets??
Member
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: close to the FLAMES!!
Posts: 129
I did this a million times, both with my ex and my current h. I hated that I did it, yet I felt like I had to know the truth.
But, since January I have been trying it the other way. I realized that I had set my boundary and that I couldn't control the outcome. My boundary was that he makes an effort to be sober, not that he hit his bottom (which I realized I can't control). He has slipped a few times since then, but to me this is good enough. I realized I can't decide if he wants to have a drink, but he has made the effort I required in order to stay living here. I knew I couldn't handle living with an active drinker, but I also realized I couldn't control whether he went out. He knew I meant business, since usually it was, "if you drink, I am out" and it changed to, "it is your business if you drink, but if you don't make an effort I am out".
I also realized that I am responsible for me, for my happiness, for my boundary setting, for my choices, and MY recovery. I am not responsible in any way to make sure he feels good, stays sober, to make sure he has all his needs met so he can stay sober, or for HIS recovery in the least bit, just like I am not responsible for his drinking.
And now, because of this, I no longer phone the bar, smell his breath, etc. I feel so much better about the alcohol thing now and I am back with the land of the living!!
Anyways, I just thought I'd share this with you- I can totally relate to what you are saying and thought I'd share what works for me.
-SFG29
But, since January I have been trying it the other way. I realized that I had set my boundary and that I couldn't control the outcome. My boundary was that he makes an effort to be sober, not that he hit his bottom (which I realized I can't control). He has slipped a few times since then, but to me this is good enough. I realized I can't decide if he wants to have a drink, but he has made the effort I required in order to stay living here. I knew I couldn't handle living with an active drinker, but I also realized I couldn't control whether he went out. He knew I meant business, since usually it was, "if you drink, I am out" and it changed to, "it is your business if you drink, but if you don't make an effort I am out".
I also realized that I am responsible for me, for my happiness, for my boundary setting, for my choices, and MY recovery. I am not responsible in any way to make sure he feels good, stays sober, to make sure he has all his needs met so he can stay sober, or for HIS recovery in the least bit, just like I am not responsible for his drinking.
And now, because of this, I no longer phone the bar, smell his breath, etc. I feel so much better about the alcohol thing now and I am back with the land of the living!!
Anyways, I just thought I'd share this with you- I can totally relate to what you are saying and thought I'd share what works for me.
-SFG29
Member
Join Date: Jun 2004
Location: Titusville, FL
Posts: 82
I have found in the last two weeks since my estranged AH fell off his two week sobriety wagon that the more I say nothing, the more he beats himself up. He stops by in the am for coffee on the way to work. Tells me he got drunk last night. I do not respond at all. He then says he's got to quit again, feels like crap, messing up his life. I do not respond.
At least he's thinking...... hopefully it will come
At least your H is also thinking, maybe slipping, but still thinking. Just trust your HP that it will sink in. I'm trying to do just that - wait.
Hugs,
Alexia
At least he's thinking...... hopefully it will come
At least your H is also thinking, maybe slipping, but still thinking. Just trust your HP that it will sink in. I'm trying to do just that - wait.
Hugs,
Alexia
Member
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Star's Hollow
Posts: 615
I don't think that you have to worry about him "getting away" with anything. If he's anything like my H, you'll know eventually whether he's drinking because he will be obviously drunk. My H may be able to go a couple of days without being drunk, but he will always eventually get back there. You'll know in time.
Try to take your focus off of whether he is drinking or not and put it on you. If he drinks, he drinks. There is nothing you can do about it.
Things do get better but you can't expect them to get better because of something your H is doing. They get better because you figure out that you have a life and you have a brain and you are going to use them.
L
Try to take your focus off of whether he is drinking or not and put it on you. If he drinks, he drinks. There is nothing you can do about it.
Things do get better but you can't expect them to get better because of something your H is doing. They get better because you figure out that you have a life and you have a brain and you are going to use them.
L
Member
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: close to the FLAMES!!
Posts: 129
I agree with Lorelai. You will feel better the more you put the focus on you. If he hasn't hit his bottom, then he hasn't. And if he is drinking you won't have to look for the small signs b/c he isn't going to be able to "social drink" for long if he is an a. And, either way, whether he is or isn't drinking you will be ok, no matter what.
-SFG29
-SFG29
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Thread Starter
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: New Castle Pa
Posts: 67
words of wisdom THANK you very much! I guess I have focused to much on the totaly stoping and giving choices of if you drink we are done.... I have never said atleast he is trying and working his program and thinking. Thank you for hitting e in the head with that one, I never thought I was asking to much of an active alcoholic coming from 20 a day to 1-3 a day is a good start. It is so much harder when you have kids that also has their eyes wide open for any falls. again thank you
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Join Date: Jun 2004
Location: Schaumburg, IL
Posts: 3
Part 1
My problem was with my sister, not a spouse, and I know that's comparing apples and oranges. But there are a few things I can throw out there for your consideration that may make a small difference.
I'll try to make a long story short, but it will probably be long anyway. Oh well.
My sister and I hadn't spoken in 12 -15 years. We didn't avoid each other for any particular reason, we just went our separate ways. One night she called me and said she wanted to see me. It was a complete surprise. And I had just been told by my parents a few weeks prior to her call that she had become an alcoholic over the last 8 years or so. I didn't think too much about that, since they tend to exaggerate, and I knew she had never been much of a drinker when we were younger. She was the preppie housewife type, married at a young age, and I was always the guy out drinking and doing all the drugs. Well, I got in my car immediately and headed down to see her, about a 4 hour drive. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I got there. She had been drinking for weeks. She was a wreck.
When I first arrived at her place, she cried and hugged me for hours and kept thanking God that "she had her brother back". I just didn't know until that point that she had missed me so much over the years we were apart.
I stayed the night, watching her go through the first of many detox cycles that I was to see over and over again. She was living alone, since she had just got out of a rehab program in the Central Illinois area and her husband had rented an apartment for her so she could follow up with DR's appointments at the rehab clinic after her release. Her family (husband and 2 children, 2 and 6 years old), lived another 3 hours south.
Another reason for putting her in her own apartment was that she was not fit to be around her kids. The result of having her own place was that now her and the new "friends" she made in the rehab clinic now had a place to drink. Constantly.
I've been drunk myself probably thousands of times. And never considered myself an alcoholic. (No need to tell me I'm wrong about that, I know the vast majority of alcoholics don't believe they are.) But that's a moot point - this was 20-something years ago, and I gradually just plain lost interest in drinking. These days I may go out drinking maybe 2 or 3 times a year. Probably even less than that. But in all the time I was drinking heavily, I guess I was lucky enough not to have the irresistible cravings for alcohol that she did.
Anyway, she wasn't working, and her husband (a sweet, generous man who had suffered through her drinking for SOOO long) was paying all the bills and sending her money, so after seeing the shape she was in I made her come back and stay with me for a while. A week, I figured, and I could talk her into getting herself together. (That's how truly ignorant I was about the disease at that point.)
The 4 hour drive back to my place took about 6 hours, since I had to pull over every few minutes for her to vomit. And between vomiting, she was sipping a water bottle filled with vodka to "help" with the withdrawal symptoms. Normally, I wouldn't allow alcohol in my car, but you have to understand that this was all still a bit of a shock to me, and I had no idea how to handle it or what I would be going through for the next few months.
When we finally got to my house, she laid on my couch shivering with a high fever and didn't eat or sleep for almost 5 days straight. She didn't have any alcohol during that time, as far as I know. I felt incredibly sorry for her and stayed home from work to take care of her.
Eventually she felt better, and I went back to work thinking that now she'll have a chance to be away from the stress, the lousy friends she had made, and just have some time to rest and avoid the situations that were triggering the drinking. (Still, I was completely ignorant of the mechanism of alcohol.)
The minute I left her alone, now that she was able to get up and move around without puking, she headed straight for the liquor store right across the street. And the worst nightmare of my life began. And I’ve had a fair number of nightmare periods over the years.
She ended up staying with me for about 8 months. During her few sober moments, when I got re-acquainted with her after all the time apart, I found out that there is no sweeter, kinder, gentler person on this earth than she is. And I found out that when she drank, she was the most vicious, violent, lying monster I've ever met in my life. It was like living with a rabid wild animal.
I became so thankful for the sober times. But when things were going along fine, she would get up to go to the bathroom, come back and sit down, and seem to just go into a coma. The first couple of times that happened, it scared me to death, so I shook her, asking what's wrong, what's going on? A minute later she would come out of it, start beating the hell out of me, all the while screaming for me to stop hitting her (????). Of course it didn't take too many of those occurrences to realize she now had alcohol hidden all over my house, and when she was out of my sight for a few minutes she was downing a pint a vodka, always thinking I wouldn't notice. (By this point, naturally, I was learning plenty about the stupidity and lies that are such a common part of alcoholism.)
She could never manage more than 3 sober days. At least that’s what she told me at the time. She told me later that she usually never even made it that long.
She knew, when sober, how sick the thought of coming home from work and finding her drunk and violent was making me, meaning yet another night of hell. So she occasionally called me at work mid-afternoon, just to reassure me that she wasn't going to be drinking, and that it would be OK tonight and I didn't have to worry. And every time she called to tell me that, she was already drinking a bottle of vodka while she was making the promises. I have a 20 minute drive home from work. During those days, it seemed like 4 hours, scared of what I would be facing when I got there. And 99 out of 100 times, I was right to be scared.
But she just couldn't stop. When I had to go to work, I would take all her cash, credit cards, etc. (with her approval) and leave checks pre-written to various restaurants so she could order food.
So she would simply walk to the grocery store, and shoplift vanilla extract. Bottle after bottle after bottle. 35% alcohol, I believe that stuff is. Again, this was a new one for me. My sister is not a thief. The alcohol monster inside her was a thief. This crap made her more violent than anything else I ever caught her drinking. I'm still finding bottles of it hidden in my house. It was everywhere, along with the cheap vodka bottles. I can't stand the smell or taste of vanilla anymore.
She had gotten a DUI before she called me. I spent the entire night before the court date trying to keep her out of the bathroom/bedroom where I knew she would drink. That caused some more severe physical fights. She eventually managed to get drunk anyway. I drove her 4 hours to her court appearance, while she cussed me out and slapped my face for the entire ride. (I don’t know why. I’m sure I never will). And showed up to DUI court severely drunk. And walked away with only a small fine, as DUI's go.
She rarely slept. That meant if I went to sleep, she had free reign to get drunk. But then, she didn't want me to sleep either. She would keep me up for days at a time, screaming, beating me, threatening suicide, yet I still had to try to manage to get to work everyday.
I know how absurd that sounds, my little sister beating me up, but she was completely insane when she drank. Totally unprovoked, she would rip out handfuls of my hair, rip at my face with her fingernails, throw whatever she could pick up. She has sprayed hair spray in my face, tried to put a lit cigarette in my eye and just barely missed, and on and on and on. And what were my choices to prevent that?
Well, the first thing any reasonable person would say would be to get her the hell out of my house. (And stop enabling, yes, I know that now). But when she called me in the first place, I truly believe she would have been dead within a few weeks if I hadn't intervened. She had nowhere to go except literally to become a homeless drunk. Again, I realize now that sometimes that has to happen, but I know that so many of you reading this realize what an impossible, heartbreaking choice that is to make. I was her last chance. Her husband couldn't take her back. Even if he were to sacrifice his own well-being to deal with her, there were the kids that were already suffering because of her violence. She had terrorized and beaten my parents, and they wouldn't let her stay with them. My parents love her dearly, and would have done anything in their power to get their daughter back instead of the demon she had become, and I know that any parents reading this that have been in the same situation know the extreme level things were at with my sister for them to have to turn her away. I knew, or at least believed, that if she was forced to leave my house she would die.
I'll try to make a long story short, but it will probably be long anyway. Oh well.
My sister and I hadn't spoken in 12 -15 years. We didn't avoid each other for any particular reason, we just went our separate ways. One night she called me and said she wanted to see me. It was a complete surprise. And I had just been told by my parents a few weeks prior to her call that she had become an alcoholic over the last 8 years or so. I didn't think too much about that, since they tend to exaggerate, and I knew she had never been much of a drinker when we were younger. She was the preppie housewife type, married at a young age, and I was always the guy out drinking and doing all the drugs. Well, I got in my car immediately and headed down to see her, about a 4 hour drive. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I got there. She had been drinking for weeks. She was a wreck.
When I first arrived at her place, she cried and hugged me for hours and kept thanking God that "she had her brother back". I just didn't know until that point that she had missed me so much over the years we were apart.
I stayed the night, watching her go through the first of many detox cycles that I was to see over and over again. She was living alone, since she had just got out of a rehab program in the Central Illinois area and her husband had rented an apartment for her so she could follow up with DR's appointments at the rehab clinic after her release. Her family (husband and 2 children, 2 and 6 years old), lived another 3 hours south.
Another reason for putting her in her own apartment was that she was not fit to be around her kids. The result of having her own place was that now her and the new "friends" she made in the rehab clinic now had a place to drink. Constantly.
I've been drunk myself probably thousands of times. And never considered myself an alcoholic. (No need to tell me I'm wrong about that, I know the vast majority of alcoholics don't believe they are.) But that's a moot point - this was 20-something years ago, and I gradually just plain lost interest in drinking. These days I may go out drinking maybe 2 or 3 times a year. Probably even less than that. But in all the time I was drinking heavily, I guess I was lucky enough not to have the irresistible cravings for alcohol that she did.
Anyway, she wasn't working, and her husband (a sweet, generous man who had suffered through her drinking for SOOO long) was paying all the bills and sending her money, so after seeing the shape she was in I made her come back and stay with me for a while. A week, I figured, and I could talk her into getting herself together. (That's how truly ignorant I was about the disease at that point.)
The 4 hour drive back to my place took about 6 hours, since I had to pull over every few minutes for her to vomit. And between vomiting, she was sipping a water bottle filled with vodka to "help" with the withdrawal symptoms. Normally, I wouldn't allow alcohol in my car, but you have to understand that this was all still a bit of a shock to me, and I had no idea how to handle it or what I would be going through for the next few months.
When we finally got to my house, she laid on my couch shivering with a high fever and didn't eat or sleep for almost 5 days straight. She didn't have any alcohol during that time, as far as I know. I felt incredibly sorry for her and stayed home from work to take care of her.
Eventually she felt better, and I went back to work thinking that now she'll have a chance to be away from the stress, the lousy friends she had made, and just have some time to rest and avoid the situations that were triggering the drinking. (Still, I was completely ignorant of the mechanism of alcohol.)
The minute I left her alone, now that she was able to get up and move around without puking, she headed straight for the liquor store right across the street. And the worst nightmare of my life began. And I’ve had a fair number of nightmare periods over the years.
She ended up staying with me for about 8 months. During her few sober moments, when I got re-acquainted with her after all the time apart, I found out that there is no sweeter, kinder, gentler person on this earth than she is. And I found out that when she drank, she was the most vicious, violent, lying monster I've ever met in my life. It was like living with a rabid wild animal.
I became so thankful for the sober times. But when things were going along fine, she would get up to go to the bathroom, come back and sit down, and seem to just go into a coma. The first couple of times that happened, it scared me to death, so I shook her, asking what's wrong, what's going on? A minute later she would come out of it, start beating the hell out of me, all the while screaming for me to stop hitting her (????). Of course it didn't take too many of those occurrences to realize she now had alcohol hidden all over my house, and when she was out of my sight for a few minutes she was downing a pint a vodka, always thinking I wouldn't notice. (By this point, naturally, I was learning plenty about the stupidity and lies that are such a common part of alcoholism.)
She could never manage more than 3 sober days. At least that’s what she told me at the time. She told me later that she usually never even made it that long.
She knew, when sober, how sick the thought of coming home from work and finding her drunk and violent was making me, meaning yet another night of hell. So she occasionally called me at work mid-afternoon, just to reassure me that she wasn't going to be drinking, and that it would be OK tonight and I didn't have to worry. And every time she called to tell me that, she was already drinking a bottle of vodka while she was making the promises. I have a 20 minute drive home from work. During those days, it seemed like 4 hours, scared of what I would be facing when I got there. And 99 out of 100 times, I was right to be scared.
But she just couldn't stop. When I had to go to work, I would take all her cash, credit cards, etc. (with her approval) and leave checks pre-written to various restaurants so she could order food.
So she would simply walk to the grocery store, and shoplift vanilla extract. Bottle after bottle after bottle. 35% alcohol, I believe that stuff is. Again, this was a new one for me. My sister is not a thief. The alcohol monster inside her was a thief. This crap made her more violent than anything else I ever caught her drinking. I'm still finding bottles of it hidden in my house. It was everywhere, along with the cheap vodka bottles. I can't stand the smell or taste of vanilla anymore.
She had gotten a DUI before she called me. I spent the entire night before the court date trying to keep her out of the bathroom/bedroom where I knew she would drink. That caused some more severe physical fights. She eventually managed to get drunk anyway. I drove her 4 hours to her court appearance, while she cussed me out and slapped my face for the entire ride. (I don’t know why. I’m sure I never will). And showed up to DUI court severely drunk. And walked away with only a small fine, as DUI's go.
She rarely slept. That meant if I went to sleep, she had free reign to get drunk. But then, she didn't want me to sleep either. She would keep me up for days at a time, screaming, beating me, threatening suicide, yet I still had to try to manage to get to work everyday.
I know how absurd that sounds, my little sister beating me up, but she was completely insane when she drank. Totally unprovoked, she would rip out handfuls of my hair, rip at my face with her fingernails, throw whatever she could pick up. She has sprayed hair spray in my face, tried to put a lit cigarette in my eye and just barely missed, and on and on and on. And what were my choices to prevent that?
Well, the first thing any reasonable person would say would be to get her the hell out of my house. (And stop enabling, yes, I know that now). But when she called me in the first place, I truly believe she would have been dead within a few weeks if I hadn't intervened. She had nowhere to go except literally to become a homeless drunk. Again, I realize now that sometimes that has to happen, but I know that so many of you reading this realize what an impossible, heartbreaking choice that is to make. I was her last chance. Her husband couldn't take her back. Even if he were to sacrifice his own well-being to deal with her, there were the kids that were already suffering because of her violence. She had terrorized and beaten my parents, and they wouldn't let her stay with them. My parents love her dearly, and would have done anything in their power to get their daughter back instead of the demon she had become, and I know that any parents reading this that have been in the same situation know the extreme level things were at with my sister for them to have to turn her away. I knew, or at least believed, that if she was forced to leave my house she would die.
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Join Date: Jun 2004
Location: Schaumburg, IL
Posts: 3
Part 2
Or I could just grab her and make her stop the violence. Tried it many times. And it was like grabbing a full grown tiger. She had no sense or care of the damage she did to me when she was drunk.
I could have simply punched her in the face and dropped her to the floor. But she felt no pain, and it would have just done severe damage to her, and unless I knocked her out cold she would have just kept coming at me. I didn't want to hurt her-I knew this wasn't really her attacking me, my sister was just trapped somewhere inside this evil drunk.
Or call the police? Yeah, did that about 7 times. Since she had been staying with me for a couple of months, they couldn't remove her from my house. If I had pressed charges of battery, she would have done the same. The police told me all she had to do was say I hit her and I would go to jail. And she was fully prepared to tell them so. She had nothing to lose by going to jail except a few hours of drinking. I was already close to losing my job because of missing so much wok dealing with her. She actually called the police twice and told them that had I had been beating her. (Why? I'll never know. The first time I was in bed asleep. The second time I was just sitting watching TV when they showed up and told me of the accusation. Just part the insanity of alcohol. Two minutes after they left, she had already forgotten they were there and said I was lying to her about it.) By this time we had vacated her old apartment and moved her things into my house. They said I would have to go to court to have her evicted. So countless nights I had to pack a suitcase and stay at a motel to get away from her violence, just so I could try to get some occasional sleep and hang on to my job.
Not that going to the motel helped much. This was the method she used over and over: She made me suffer through her rage, but as soon as I left the house the suicidal phone calls would start. Turning my cell phone off wasn't an option, I was required to be on-call for my job. The choices she gave me were 1. Come home and let her continue to torture me, or 2. She was going to kill herself RIGHT NOW.
And, again calls to the police reporting suicide threats did nothing. They came to the house, she told them I was lying, and they eventually just got irritated with me for bothering them and said there was nothing they could do. And the second they walked out the door she was attacking again.
No matter what I tried, I couldn't keep her from getting her hands on alcohol. Her husband kept sending her "food money", so I never knew when she had cash hidden away.
I guess I could keep writing for hours about the awful things she did to me, and the most vile, hurtful things that I've ever heard that she said to me during the whole period. I've been drunk, I've been around hundreds of drunks, and I've never encountered someone so mean, nor have I seen alcohol have such a powerful grip on someone like it did on her.
But she so desperately wanted to quit drinking. Her drinking cycles usually lasted about 2 weeks straight before the withdrawals started or until she ran out of money. By this time I had no sympathy for the withdrawal symptoms, knowing she would be drinking again as soon as she was able.
During the rare times when she was sober, she begged me, she begged God, to please, please help her stop drinking. And cried, and held me, and told me how much she loved me and needed me. Jesus, How many times have I seen that same scene in a movie, or read it in a book, and it's so easy to think "Just get rid of the Bitch". But it sure ain't that easy when it's real life and it's someone you love...
But still she drank. And again I went to a motel for 2 days and endured the phone calls. And I woke up early and decided it was enough. I went home, hoping to catch her somewhat sober and give her an ultimatum and stick to it. But she was already, or still, drunk. By about 7:00AM. Probably the worst I ever saw her. I didn't have a chance to say a word - she was half-asleep when I walked in and immediately started ripping out my hair and scratching my face before I even had a chance to react or say a single word to her. I left once again, and just sat in my car and cried. And within 5 minutes, the call came once again, that she had a knife and was killing herself with it now.
And again I called the police. I got home before they arrived, and she was already passed out with a large kitchen knife in her hand. Thank God the police dispatcher took me seriously this time, because the emergency vehicles arrived from all directions. Probably 5 police cars, an ambulance, a fire engine, etc. Because she had the knife in her hand, they weren't going to ignore the situation this time. They took her to a detox facility, and kept her for 5 days.
And I rode with her in the ambulance, and I promised I'd stay with her. I went to see her during every visiting hour period while she was there. And I gave her the ultimatum I had gone home to give her in the first place.
1. That she demand that the doctors prescribe Antabuse.
2. That if she was to continue to stay with me, she would let me watch her take the Antabuse every day.
3. That if she refused to take it even one day, I would put everything she owned in the garbage and make sure she never got into my house again.
She agreed. Gladly, but she was scared. She had been sober for several days by then, and was the sweet, gentle person that I love and endured all this for, who drinks because of the awful guilt and self-hatred she has for herself because of the things she does when she drinks. That nasty cycle that I know so much about now.
Please excuse the incoherency and misspellings. I didn't start out intending to say all this. But it just started coming out, and when it did, so did the memories and the tears. I don't know if I'm crying because of the pain that all this left inside me that I'm not sure how to get rid of, or if it's just relief because she's been sober for 232 days as of today.
She's back with her husband and children now, and they're all doing well. She knows it's going to take plenty of time for everyone to trust her again, and that's part of the one day at a time part.
Well, I completely forgot that I was just going to make a couple of points when I started writing this. I guess should get to that part, huh.
1. As soon as my sister started taking the Antabuse, she told me this - The minute I left for work every morning, she started asking herself - How can I not drink today? Should I drink today? What will I get to drink? Where will I get it? How will I hide it from my brother? How much should I get? What will I say if he notices I've been drinking?
This was her internal thought process ALL DAY EVERY DAY. It ate at her until she walked to the liquor store on auto-pilot and was back home with a half-empty bottle of alcohol before she even let herself realize what she was doing.
As soon as she started taking the Antabuse, her mind knew that she was NOT going to be drinking today. There was no point wondering whether to or not. The answer was simply "NOT" And it let her mind move on and start facing the guilt and starting to heal. And the healing has not been easy. It's been damn hard and scary for all the guilt to start flooding back in with no alcohol to chase it away.
And that’s how I let go of the “is she drinking� feeling. The feeling of peace I got is indescribable. I knew I could come home and talk to my sister, not the monster. Instantly, I wanted to come home to be with her and sit with her and talk to her or just hold on to her and tell her it was OK, that now things will get better. SLOWLY, but they will get better. Don’t get me wrong. You don’t take a pill and then you’re cured. You take a pill and then you start to face the guilt and all the scary stuff you’ve been avoiding and you face life, which can and does often just treat you like crap.
Antabuse controversy can be found all over the internet. Some say it's substituting one drug for another. Some say you have to rely on your Higher Power, not chemicals. (She's a firm believer in a Higher Power, by the way, and gives thanks for leading her to the events that let her discover what Antabuse can do for her.) A lot of the Antabuse info is absolutely right - if someone doesn't want to stop, they won't stop. Forced Antabuse intake isn't what I'm suggesting either. I didn't do that - I told her to take it and stay or go somewhere else where I didn't have to watch her die. She chose to stay. Antabuse shouldn't be considered without a huge amount of research and it's certainly not right for everyone. What I've typed here is only the smallest fraction of all the things that actually happened in those 8 months. I started out being completely ignorant about addiction, but I've certainly learned more than my share about it by now. I'm just saying that it has been the miracle that has so far saved someone I love. There's no point in anyone telling me that it was wrong for my sister. Everyone has bad days. A bad day for an alcoholic can turn tragic in a hurry. The Antabuse gives her a chance to get through a few bad days, without having the option of taking a drink the minute things aren't going well for her.
I could have simply punched her in the face and dropped her to the floor. But she felt no pain, and it would have just done severe damage to her, and unless I knocked her out cold she would have just kept coming at me. I didn't want to hurt her-I knew this wasn't really her attacking me, my sister was just trapped somewhere inside this evil drunk.
Or call the police? Yeah, did that about 7 times. Since she had been staying with me for a couple of months, they couldn't remove her from my house. If I had pressed charges of battery, she would have done the same. The police told me all she had to do was say I hit her and I would go to jail. And she was fully prepared to tell them so. She had nothing to lose by going to jail except a few hours of drinking. I was already close to losing my job because of missing so much wok dealing with her. She actually called the police twice and told them that had I had been beating her. (Why? I'll never know. The first time I was in bed asleep. The second time I was just sitting watching TV when they showed up and told me of the accusation. Just part the insanity of alcohol. Two minutes after they left, she had already forgotten they were there and said I was lying to her about it.) By this time we had vacated her old apartment and moved her things into my house. They said I would have to go to court to have her evicted. So countless nights I had to pack a suitcase and stay at a motel to get away from her violence, just so I could try to get some occasional sleep and hang on to my job.
Not that going to the motel helped much. This was the method she used over and over: She made me suffer through her rage, but as soon as I left the house the suicidal phone calls would start. Turning my cell phone off wasn't an option, I was required to be on-call for my job. The choices she gave me were 1. Come home and let her continue to torture me, or 2. She was going to kill herself RIGHT NOW.
And, again calls to the police reporting suicide threats did nothing. They came to the house, she told them I was lying, and they eventually just got irritated with me for bothering them and said there was nothing they could do. And the second they walked out the door she was attacking again.
No matter what I tried, I couldn't keep her from getting her hands on alcohol. Her husband kept sending her "food money", so I never knew when she had cash hidden away.
I guess I could keep writing for hours about the awful things she did to me, and the most vile, hurtful things that I've ever heard that she said to me during the whole period. I've been drunk, I've been around hundreds of drunks, and I've never encountered someone so mean, nor have I seen alcohol have such a powerful grip on someone like it did on her.
But she so desperately wanted to quit drinking. Her drinking cycles usually lasted about 2 weeks straight before the withdrawals started or until she ran out of money. By this time I had no sympathy for the withdrawal symptoms, knowing she would be drinking again as soon as she was able.
During the rare times when she was sober, she begged me, she begged God, to please, please help her stop drinking. And cried, and held me, and told me how much she loved me and needed me. Jesus, How many times have I seen that same scene in a movie, or read it in a book, and it's so easy to think "Just get rid of the Bitch". But it sure ain't that easy when it's real life and it's someone you love...
But still she drank. And again I went to a motel for 2 days and endured the phone calls. And I woke up early and decided it was enough. I went home, hoping to catch her somewhat sober and give her an ultimatum and stick to it. But she was already, or still, drunk. By about 7:00AM. Probably the worst I ever saw her. I didn't have a chance to say a word - she was half-asleep when I walked in and immediately started ripping out my hair and scratching my face before I even had a chance to react or say a single word to her. I left once again, and just sat in my car and cried. And within 5 minutes, the call came once again, that she had a knife and was killing herself with it now.
And again I called the police. I got home before they arrived, and she was already passed out with a large kitchen knife in her hand. Thank God the police dispatcher took me seriously this time, because the emergency vehicles arrived from all directions. Probably 5 police cars, an ambulance, a fire engine, etc. Because she had the knife in her hand, they weren't going to ignore the situation this time. They took her to a detox facility, and kept her for 5 days.
And I rode with her in the ambulance, and I promised I'd stay with her. I went to see her during every visiting hour period while she was there. And I gave her the ultimatum I had gone home to give her in the first place.
1. That she demand that the doctors prescribe Antabuse.
2. That if she was to continue to stay with me, she would let me watch her take the Antabuse every day.
3. That if she refused to take it even one day, I would put everything she owned in the garbage and make sure she never got into my house again.
She agreed. Gladly, but she was scared. She had been sober for several days by then, and was the sweet, gentle person that I love and endured all this for, who drinks because of the awful guilt and self-hatred she has for herself because of the things she does when she drinks. That nasty cycle that I know so much about now.
Please excuse the incoherency and misspellings. I didn't start out intending to say all this. But it just started coming out, and when it did, so did the memories and the tears. I don't know if I'm crying because of the pain that all this left inside me that I'm not sure how to get rid of, or if it's just relief because she's been sober for 232 days as of today.
She's back with her husband and children now, and they're all doing well. She knows it's going to take plenty of time for everyone to trust her again, and that's part of the one day at a time part.
Well, I completely forgot that I was just going to make a couple of points when I started writing this. I guess should get to that part, huh.
1. As soon as my sister started taking the Antabuse, she told me this - The minute I left for work every morning, she started asking herself - How can I not drink today? Should I drink today? What will I get to drink? Where will I get it? How will I hide it from my brother? How much should I get? What will I say if he notices I've been drinking?
This was her internal thought process ALL DAY EVERY DAY. It ate at her until she walked to the liquor store on auto-pilot and was back home with a half-empty bottle of alcohol before she even let herself realize what she was doing.
As soon as she started taking the Antabuse, her mind knew that she was NOT going to be drinking today. There was no point wondering whether to or not. The answer was simply "NOT" And it let her mind move on and start facing the guilt and starting to heal. And the healing has not been easy. It's been damn hard and scary for all the guilt to start flooding back in with no alcohol to chase it away.
And that’s how I let go of the “is she drinking� feeling. The feeling of peace I got is indescribable. I knew I could come home and talk to my sister, not the monster. Instantly, I wanted to come home to be with her and sit with her and talk to her or just hold on to her and tell her it was OK, that now things will get better. SLOWLY, but they will get better. Don’t get me wrong. You don’t take a pill and then you’re cured. You take a pill and then you start to face the guilt and all the scary stuff you’ve been avoiding and you face life, which can and does often just treat you like crap.
Antabuse controversy can be found all over the internet. Some say it's substituting one drug for another. Some say you have to rely on your Higher Power, not chemicals. (She's a firm believer in a Higher Power, by the way, and gives thanks for leading her to the events that let her discover what Antabuse can do for her.) A lot of the Antabuse info is absolutely right - if someone doesn't want to stop, they won't stop. Forced Antabuse intake isn't what I'm suggesting either. I didn't do that - I told her to take it and stay or go somewhere else where I didn't have to watch her die. She chose to stay. Antabuse shouldn't be considered without a huge amount of research and it's certainly not right for everyone. What I've typed here is only the smallest fraction of all the things that actually happened in those 8 months. I started out being completely ignorant about addiction, but I've certainly learned more than my share about it by now. I'm just saying that it has been the miracle that has so far saved someone I love. There's no point in anyone telling me that it was wrong for my sister. Everyone has bad days. A bad day for an alcoholic can turn tragic in a hurry. The Antabuse gives her a chance to get through a few bad days, without having the option of taking a drink the minute things aren't going well for her.
Paused
Join Date: Jun 2004
Location: Schaumburg, IL
Posts: 3
Part 3
She still takes it every day, and her husband watches her take it, and after all the dark years she went through, she's starting to live again instead of continuing to die.
2. I bought a watch for her that counts days. Sober days, non-smoking days, whatever. I think you can see them at www.dayometer.com, and there are plenty of places to buy them over the internet. She only has to look at her wrist and be reminded of what a horrible feeling it would be for her to have to reset it to zero. She loves it.
3. I get her a small AA related gift on every monthly "anniversary". Almost 8 months now. Monthly sobriety chips in nice display boxes, AA books in beautiful wooden cases, things of that nature. There’s a huge amount of that kind of thing to be found on the internet. The more of these little tokens she receives, the less likely she is to make them all seem meaningless by having that 1st drink. For my sister, at least, the symbolism of having someone behind her who thinks her recovery is the most important thing in the world has gone a long way.
She doesn’t remember most of the cruel things she did to me, and I’ll never tell her. It would crush her to know the behavior she’s capable of, not that she isn’t already aware of how nasty she’s been on so many drunken occasions. Like I said, this wasn’t my sister putting me through hell, this was a vicious chemical that took over and amplified a part of her mind that would normally never really exist.
I don’t think I’ve ever written anything this long in my life. I started out just to give a little advice, and now it seems I’ll be taking up 100 pages if I hit the “post� button. So maybe I won’t. But I haven’t really had anyone to talk to about it since it all started, and maybe it’ll help to get it said. Or maybe I’ll regret it.
I don’t know. But either way, for those of you still trapped in a hopeless, agonizing situation, and it seems like there’s no way out except death, whether yours or someone else’s, I wish you well and hope that you find the miracle that you need.
Rob
P.S. – Well, I just tried to post and apparently I’ve written 2 or 3 times as much as allowed here. So I think I’ll break it into a few parts. It might get me in trouble, but what I didn’t mention is that I found out this weekend my sister has lied to me about some things that have got me feeling betrayed and hurt. I think that’s why I stated writing in the first place. I won’t get into that story, because she’s not drinking and that’s really the only thing that’s truly important to me, but I just want to be able to say all this so maybe I can get to sleep tonight without thinking about it anymore… Sorry if the length is offensive…
2. I bought a watch for her that counts days. Sober days, non-smoking days, whatever. I think you can see them at www.dayometer.com, and there are plenty of places to buy them over the internet. She only has to look at her wrist and be reminded of what a horrible feeling it would be for her to have to reset it to zero. She loves it.
3. I get her a small AA related gift on every monthly "anniversary". Almost 8 months now. Monthly sobriety chips in nice display boxes, AA books in beautiful wooden cases, things of that nature. There’s a huge amount of that kind of thing to be found on the internet. The more of these little tokens she receives, the less likely she is to make them all seem meaningless by having that 1st drink. For my sister, at least, the symbolism of having someone behind her who thinks her recovery is the most important thing in the world has gone a long way.
She doesn’t remember most of the cruel things she did to me, and I’ll never tell her. It would crush her to know the behavior she’s capable of, not that she isn’t already aware of how nasty she’s been on so many drunken occasions. Like I said, this wasn’t my sister putting me through hell, this was a vicious chemical that took over and amplified a part of her mind that would normally never really exist.
I don’t think I’ve ever written anything this long in my life. I started out just to give a little advice, and now it seems I’ll be taking up 100 pages if I hit the “post� button. So maybe I won’t. But I haven’t really had anyone to talk to about it since it all started, and maybe it’ll help to get it said. Or maybe I’ll regret it.
I don’t know. But either way, for those of you still trapped in a hopeless, agonizing situation, and it seems like there’s no way out except death, whether yours or someone else’s, I wish you well and hope that you find the miracle that you need.
Rob
P.S. – Well, I just tried to post and apparently I’ve written 2 or 3 times as much as allowed here. So I think I’ll break it into a few parts. It might get me in trouble, but what I didn’t mention is that I found out this weekend my sister has lied to me about some things that have got me feeling betrayed and hurt. I think that’s why I stated writing in the first place. I won’t get into that story, because she’s not drinking and that’s really the only thing that’s truly important to me, but I just want to be able to say all this so maybe I can get to sleep tonight without thinking about it anymore… Sorry if the length is offensive…
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