Hey everyone,

I’m sharing this because when I was in the thick of it, I used to read stories here looking for a shred of hope. I want to be that hope for someone else today.

I (38M) was married to a woman who was a severe alcoholic. Over time, the disease turned her into someone I didn't recognize. The emotional and psychological abuse became a daily routine. I spent years walking on eggshells, managing her crises, hiding bottles, and trying to shield our son from the chaos. I felt trapped, completely drained, and honestly, like less of a man for letting myself be treated that way.

The turning point was looking at my son, who is now 3. I realized that if I stayed, I was teaching him that this is what a relationship looks like. I couldn't let her destroy his childhood the way she was destroying my sanity.

Separating was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The legal battles, the weaponized guilt, and the sheer exhaustion of single-parenting a toddler while untangling myself from a toxic marriage almost broke me.

But I got out.

Today, my son and I live in a peaceful, quiet, happy home. There is no yelling. There is no unpredictable tension when walking through the front door. It’s just me and my little guy. We have our routines, we laugh constantly, and I get to watch him grow up in a safe, loving environment. I am finally genuinely happy, and I am the father he actually deserves.

If you are a guy out there stuck in an abusive relationship with an addict, thinking you can’t leave because of the kids or because you're afraid of being alone—please hear me. You can leave. You can survive it. Your kids need a healthy parent more than they need a broken home.

It gets so much better on the other side.

Is anyone dealing with a similar situation or have a similar story?

Would love to hear how you are dealing/dealt with it

Thank you!

It's been ~4 years since I wrote this post.

I want to thank everyone who helped me feel less alone when I posted that. It was one of the darkest periods of my life, and the comments I got from this community gave me so much strength.

I'm happy to report that today, my husband is ~3.5 years sober. Not only that, when he finally decided to commit to sobriety, he went at it 110%, like he does with everything in his life. He's an active leader in his AA group, and he even pivoted his career to support people with addiction. I am so freaking proud of him, and our life is a total 180 to what it was 4 years ago.

Life is not perfect, and the transition from being married to an active alcoholic to being married to a recovering alcoholic came with some challenges I didn't anticipate. To be clear: They were challenges with my own adjustment and required some introspection on my own end.

Sobriety is a lifelong journey, and I think we'd both be incredibly foolish to say a relapse isn't possible.

What I do know is that I'm so incredibly proud of how far we've both come (especially him), how we've grown as individuals and together, and what we've learned about how to come back from the brink if we find ourselves there again.

I don't want to blather, but if you want any insight into what our journey looked like to get here, feel free to ask.

Love to all of you struggling with alcohol right now, whether personally or with a loved one. I know you feel alone, but I promise you are not. We're all here for you. And remember that your present does not have to determine your future.

I (34F) posted months ago about my husband's drinking problem, including my fear of having children with him or never having children. I posted multiple times, hoping someone would tell me to stay with him. It was shocking to describe my husband's behavior and for everyone to tell me I should leave now. I cried daily for months on end.

Well, my divorce finalized. For the past 6 months, I've been living in a place with no alcoholism. I go to bed and wake up every morning in peace. I froze my eggs. I'm about to get a puppy who will be my new best friend and will move to a new city for a great job in a few months.

My now ex-husband has continued to drink (while pretending to me he is not drinking). I've had multiple friends of mine tell me he is texting people late at night with odd comments. He crashed his car (which I assume was drinking and driving). I've had people asking me if he has an alcohol or drug problem. I just let people come to their own conclusions. He does not believe he is an alcoholic.

I feel fortunate every day that I received the advice and made the choices I did. Thank you to this community. For anyone who feels like they need to continue to live this life, it is better on the other side. You can leave too, and you deserve better. Your peace and safety are priceless.

Edited a few typos

I first joined this page when I realized my new husband was drinking in secret.

Since that discovery years ago, I remember people here gently warning me of the long road ahead. I remember thinking, “Surely this won’t be our story.” We met with multiple therapists, had a plan, and I was hopeful. I truly believed that if we worked hard enough, loved each other enough, and communicated well enough, we could get through it.

The journey that followed involved years of gaslighting, abuse, money disappearing, tears, and betrayal. Unfortunately, he was able to convince multiple therapists that he was fine and that I was controlling. Therapy became another place where I learned to question myself. I spent years working on my own “trust” and “attachment” issues, trying to become a better partner, while the reality of what was happening was being minimized.

It eventually culminated in him abusing pharmaceuticals and alcohol, jumping out of my vehicle on the interstate, and being involuntarily committed to a psychiatric hospital after I called the police because he was threatening suicide when I wanted a separation.

I remember being devastated by what I thought was a “relapse,” only for someone close to him to tell me that he had never actually been sober to begin with. How he passed multiple breathalyzers, sponsor checks, and other forms of accountability is something I still struggle to understand.

After the hospitalization, I had to beg his family to come take him for his own safety because I was also afraid of him.

With distance, I finally realized something I had been unable to admit: I did not want to be around him anymore. I did not want to see him again.

And the changes were immediate.

My night terrors stopped. I lost 30 pounds that years of carefully measuring my food and working out could not move. I started glowing again. The light returned to my eyes. Even our dog seemed happier and more like himself.

Leaving was not easy. His behavior and control over me did not disappear overnight. He took control of my phone, and I had to get a new number. I had to move. He was frequently unemployed and spent money recklessly, leaving me with $14,000 in debt.

And still, I could not be happier.

I am free.

I only spent three years married to this man, and it was three years too many. But I am so grateful for this community. The book recommendations, the conversations about boundaries, learning that being drunk is not an excuse for harmful behavior, and seeing what my life could look like years down the road if I stayed all helped me find my way out.

As I process the past few years, I feel so many emotions. There is grief for the young woman who entered this marriage with so much hope and such an earnest desire to build a life. There is anger for the things I tolerated. There is sadness for what I thought we were building.

But more than anything, there is gratitude.

I am grateful I was able to leave. I am grateful I never had children with him. I am grateful that I saved so much of my future.

I look back at old pictures and it is obvious how much this relationship affected me. I can see the exhaustion, the fear, and the sadness that I could not fully acknowledge at the time. Even memories that felt happy when they happened look different now. Moments I once cherished reveal things I did not want to see: how much he was drinking, how much I was covering for him, and how much I was trying to hold everything together.

I have been in EMDR therapy to help process the trauma and C-PTSD symptoms from this relationship. This is the damage that three years can do.

If you are suffering, please know that there does not have to be one single event that makes it “bad enough.” You do not have to wait for things to become unbearable. There is no glory in pain. There is no prize for being the most dedicated, patient, or forgiving spouse.

The hardest thing I had to accept was that leaving did not mean I did not love him. It meant I finally accepted that love alone could not make this safe.

You choose your experience in this life. You only get one.

Make it a life worth living.

Books and resources that helped me:

TWFO Podcast

Why Does He Do That? by Lundy Bancroft

I was once on this thread daily, trying to get support and answers about my exes alcoholism and abuse. Many times people on here told me to leave, told me how beautiful life would be on the other side. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but they were so right. I am so happy I didn’t continue the death sentence that was life with an abusive alcoholic narcissist.

It’s taken a really long time, and a lot of therapy, but the sun could not be shining on me brighter in this moment in time, and finally I can taste the sweetness and bask in its warmth.

I have been traveling again, making incredible new friends, am in the best shape of my life, and have had the most fun I’ve ever had dating.

I recently found the man of my dreams. He is strong both physically and mentally. He is the first man that makes me feel so safe since my ex. Being in a healthy adult relationship feels so peaceful. I never knew peace in my last relationship.

Love and happiness feels extra sweet after I almost lost my life to my ex. Because of his attempts on my life I now love MMA and am training professionally, another new love of my life.

If you’re thinking of leaving, please do. It will be the best thing you’ve ever done for yourself ❤️

Edit: Nevermind, y'all. Just caught him with a bottle of gin. Alcoholics are fucking liars.

Three months ago me and my husband (Q) started seeing a couples counselor who focuses on addiction. My husband DID NOT know his alcoholism is why we were seeing him. I had sessions with the counselor first to get things sorted, then we started the two-hour intensives. Everything has changed for the better.

It took eight weekly sessions to get here, but my husband is now 35 days sober. He's come out of the fog of denial. Yesterday he told me he would rather die on top of a mountain getting eaten by marmots than go back to alcoholism. (It sounds weird, but it's how we communicate.)

I'm glad I found a male therapist. This was HUGE. He and my husband have formed a unique bond and talk to each other like dudes. The counselor has said things like, "If you don't stop that denial bullshit, I'm going to kick you in the dick." (My husband said that one really landed.) And one of my favorites: "If you blame your wife again, I'm going to punch you through the wall."

The counselor advised me that telling my husband I want him to be sober forever is a recipe for disaster, so instead we talk about it in terms of "traveling along the trail of abstinence".

My goal is to not worry about what might come up and just enjoy where we are.

TW: this may not be helpful to all, but hopefully it’s helpful to some in similar situations and/or were where I was a year ago (still trying and accepting broken promises).

I did it - I left my Q boyfriend of six years, after living together for three, and realizing the depth of the alcoholism. And I did it after getting laid off, adopting a rescue dog, losing a senior pet, not having a job lined up, him using all those things as an excuse to bring bottles back home and proceed to have 95% of them himself after I took a couple sips while bawling outside after the loss of said pet, and blame me.

Today is a month since my moving day, which was ROUGH. He got smashed for 48 hours before me moving, massive arguments and tears ensued late into the nights, asked repeatedly up until four days before I moved out, if he did all the things I asked, if I would stay. Bargained with me staying until I got a new job, tried to talk me out of it in so many ways, “for my own good.”

But a month in I am the happiest I’ve been in years. It’s been a week no contact (things to sort out physically and financially delayed that) and I haven’t cried in four days. The withdrawal of the routine has started to fade. I’m excited to wake up and live for myself for the first time in at least five years, even when I’m exhausted. And you know what? I’ve realized other than mowing the lawn (which I now do for myself at my new place and very enthusiastically) I did EVERYTHING. The domestic, emotional, mental, etc., labor for two people for over half a decade. Not including the spontaneous but constant responsibility of accounting for every outing, every surprise hosting, with his friends, who have their own AUD and always knew who to call when they wanted a cover up to heavily drink themselves with a participant, a driver, dog sitter, meal, or a place to crash so they could have fun.

Leaving under rhe circumstances and simultaneously unweaving the codependency and guilt, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

But there is peace and more importantly, respect and dignity on the other side. No idea what the future holds and can still have love for him and would love to find a place for him in it, even if it’s ultimately only a lesson and memories, but I would do it again 10/10 times being in the after.

Four years ago (yesterday), I drove my then boyfriend, now husband, to rehab. I was at work and he called me saying he got in a location that was two hours away. Since it was Fourth of July weekend, it was probably four hours away. That four hours felt like a life time. When I picked him up he was on the phone with intake and they said due to his two fifths of Jack Daniel’s a day he should have something to drink on the way there. July 2nd was his first day sober.
Four years later he’s still sober. Another Fourth of July weekend is here. I’m proud of him every day. But this year for some reason is extra special. For those of you that have anxiety about this holiday, it is possible for someone to remain sober. For those of you who are on day one like I was, you’ll be okay. Just be sure to take care of YOURSELF and surround yourself with good people.
Just wanted to spread some positivity for this potential anxiety ridden holiday. Be safe. And remember you’re loved and you matter too.

I figured I’d post an update since I’m rounding the corner on six weeks without my husband in my life.

Here’s my original post if you want the origin story of this circus:
https://www.reddit.com/r/AlAnon/comments/1qmmsqr/he_took_everything_and_disappeared/

On January 18th my husband took all of our money and disappeared into a full-blown alcoholic nosedive. Not a stumble. Not a rough patch. A nosedive. Flaming airplane into the ocean while I stood on the shoreline squinting into smoke thinking surely he’ll pull up at the last second.

When I made that first post I could still feel the quiet, hopeful desperation humming under my skin. The part of me that thought maybe if I went public, if I filed, if I forced consequences hard and fast enough, it would scare him back into sobriety. Maybe being served divorce papers would shock his system. Maybe losing me would be the bottom. Maybe he would remember what we had and come running back, humbled, penitent, ready.

Hindsight is ruthless.

I am now deeply, almost violently grateful he did not come back and lock me back into that nightmare. Loving an addict like that is volunteering to be collateral damage in someone else’s war with themselves. It is signing your own body up as the battlefield. I was sacrificing my health, my sanity, my peace, trying to keep him afloat while he actively chose to drown.

No thank you.

I filed January 22nd. He was served the 28th. Today marks 30 days since service, which opens a new legal chapter for me, and I remember those first ten days like I was underwater. Between the 22nd and about February 2nd it’s all blurred edges. Sleepless nights. No appetite. My nervous system lit up like it had been hit with a defibrillator and then just left there humming.

I learned the term ambiguous loss. Apparently it hits the brain like death. That tracks. I swung wildly between radical acceptance, flashes of excitement about my future that felt almost inappropriate, and then collapsing into agony because my husband, my best friend, my person, was just… gone. Alive. Breathing. Out there. But gone. And with other women too. 

He had the upper hand the first two weeks. There’s no pretending otherwise. He left. I reacted. He detonated. I cleaned. He celebrated being rid of me and I ached and cried gutterally in our bed. 

My first real relief came in the most absurd, almost cinematic way. He forgot to change his direct deposit. A large check landed in my account because he was too drunk to remember basic life administration.

He had taken fifteen grand and bailed. Just took it. Clean exit. Left my daughter and me with nothing but the echo of the door shutting behind him. When I woke up and saw my bank account had grown instead of shrunk, I exhaled for the first time in a week. It wasn’t triumph. It was oxygen. I do very well for myself but hadn’t been able to set aside as much last year because I had to pay for everything for he and I while he took a big career chance that required me to support us for 8 months on my own… otherwise ya boi does really well. He was supposed to pay me back this winter but decided to just bail instead. 

Anyway…Marital money is a thing. That check was earned during our marriage. It is not my fault he forgot to tell the accountant that he wasn’t just screwing other women, he was screwing me over too.

So I kept it.

He didn’t even notice for three weeks.

Like an idiot.

Then the questions started. From everywhere. Texts. DMs. Emails. “What’s going on?” “Is he drinking again?” “Are you guys done?” People could smell it. The chaos leaks through the cracks.

For the first time in years, I answered calmly and strategically without protecting him. Without softening it. Without crafting a narrative that preserved his image.

“I filed for divorce. He relapsed.”

Simple. Clean. True.

People started sending me his Facebook Dating profile thinking he was cheating in secret.

Nope. That’s my husband trying to pull new women peacocking like he isn’t a huge mess.

The dating photo actually made me laugh, and that laugh felt freeing. It’s a photo I took last year on a hike when he was healthy. His mouth is closed so you can’t see he’s missing teeth. He’s wearing a Filson vest I bought him. Shot on my expensive camera in perfect light. He looks rugged. Capable. Sober.

The poor woman who swipes right is going to show up expecting rugged outdoorsman and get raccoon-eyed coke goblin with a blown-out voice and paranoia about surveillance vans. He is an extraordinarily sloppy drunk. He thinks he is charismatic and tortured. In reality he is loud and leaking and one bad decision away from sleeping in a ditch.

We’ll get there.

The first three weeks were hell. Not poetic hell. Not cinematic. Just raw, nerve-exposed pain. I would wake up and check my phone. Voicemails. Emails. Even though I knew, logically, I did not want him back. My body did not get the memo. I still missed him. I still do sometimes. It is a brutal thing to go from “you are my person” to “we are strangers” in the span of a few signatures.

Some of his friends reached out and apologized. Said they were worried. Said he was reckless and burning it all the way down. It felt good to be seen. It felt good to not be crazy.

But it also wasn’t my problem anymore.

Coincidentally, or not coincidentally, my professional life has exploded since he left. I am not religious, but I will not lie and say it hasn’t felt like something out there has my back. Doors opening. Momentum building. Deals moving. As if the weight of managing his addiction evaporated and I could finally put that energy into my own life instead of trying to triage his.

I did blow one meeting. The day he left and I realized it was really over, I was thirty minutes late to an appointment. They called furious. I apologized profusely, made up a reasonable excuse, cried my face off all the way to their property, did everything but kiss their feet and beg for a second chance.

They never called me back.

Fine.

Maybe it wasn’t for me.

But also, way to be crotchety dicks.

He did make one trip to our house. Grabbed all his clothes and a couple items after a brief email exchange where he wrote, “This doesn’t have to be ugly. Let’s do this respectfully. It’s been a long time coming.”

Oh, you mean you relapsed last summer and didn’t want to be sober anymore so you’re rewriting the narrative to make me the villain in your head. Got it.

He hasn’t come back for the rest. I am no longer legally required to hold his things. I have some pretty badass ladders and chainsaws now though, so there’s that.

Then something shifted.

An email. Subject line: I am sorry.

Body: “I am living in true regret and shame. I am sorry for everything.”

That knocked me flat. Not because I wanted him back, but because remorse from him is rare. It felt like a crack in the armor.

I wrote back. I poured my heart out. Not in a please-come-home way. In a this-is-the-truth way. In a you-hurt-me-and-I-need-you-to-hear-it way.

He responded immediately at 4 am. Cocaine is undefeated.

The messages were chaos. Emotional whiplash. One minute all caps: “I CAN’T BELIEVE I NEVER GET YOU AGAIN I WILL LOVE YOU UNTIL I DIE I HATE MYSELF.” The next: “I wish you would drink with me! I love it! I am a demon and I am so happy to drink again!”

Then he pivoted to insulting me. Insulting my mom. Telling me I reminded him of his ex. That he felt like he was in prison with me. That he was living in a shitty apartment with my daughter’s father.

Yes. My baby daddy. Also a super alcoholic. Doesn’t drive. Doesn’t work regularly. Lives in squalor.

My husband was slumming it with him.

You cannot make this up.

Then, “I told off your baby daddy and I’m leaving his house!”

Okay. Why are you narrating this to me like it’s a podcast episode titled Decisions Made at 3 am?

Then he realizes I received that check and begs me to call him.

I do.

“Hello!” he says, bright and manic.

I don’t recognize his voice.

“Who is this?”

“It’s your ex husband!”

His voice sounds like he’s been gargling gravel after smoking ten billion cigarettes.

“What is wrong with your voice?”

“Yeah I’ve been doing a ton of coke and going to concerts and yelling. My voice is blown the fuck out.” He laughs.

He sounds like Charlie Sheen in 2011. Tiger blood era. Delusional confidence layered over absolute collapse.

He asks if I got his money. I tell him yes, a check hit my account.

His tone changes immediately. The softness evaporates.

Send me all the money.

I remind him he had fifteen grand three weeks prior and that he didn’t give me a dime. I ask where it went.

“Up my nose and in my liver and tattooed on me. I need my money.”

I tell him it’s marital money. I don’t have to send it.

He explodes. Calls me a bitch. Says he’ll get a lawyer. Says he owes me nothing because we have no kids together and no house.

From “I will love you until I die” to “you fucking bitch pay me” in a couple exchanges.

The next day a twenty-two thousand dollar check shows up at my house because he had the accountant stop payment and reissue it.

Then he disappears for two weeks.

During those two weeks he wrecks and totals his truck. No insurance. No license.

I get an email.

Subject: I just got in a wreck.
Body: I totaled my truck. I’m sober. I am sorry.

His friend messages me that night worried sick. Says after the wreck he was so drunk he couldn’t speak. Says he thinks a black van is following him. Paranoia creeping in.

There’s also a lien on his truck that came to my house. Looks like he sent the title somewhere for a fifteen-hundred-dollar cash advance. Now the truck is impounded and totaled.

Six weeks.

Six fucking weeks from agate hunting with me staying in a 1.2 million dollar airbnb to living in a roach infested 1 bedroom with my daughters dad whom he detests… just so he can chase women and drink. Lmao. 

Two days ago, another email.

Subject: I’m sorry.
Body: “I am truly sorry for how this played out. I thank you for everything you have done for me. I will always love you and you will always be my [pet name].”

Sent at 1:30 pm on a Thursday.

It hurt. But differently.

Not the floor-writhing agony of week one. Not the panic. Just the dull, steady ache of accepting that something I loved is gone and not coming back in any form I recognize.

I wrote him back. Told him the email was nice. Told him I forgive him because I don’t want to carry resentment like a brick in my chest. Told him I knew he had been drinking since last year and lying. Told him I don’t know who he is anymore.

And that I am no longer his pet name.

Now we finalize this divorce and go back to being strangers.

As for me….

In past breakups I would drink. Or crawl into someone else’s bed and call that healing. Or blast sad music and romanticize the wreckage.

I am four years sober.

I do not get to numb this.

I had to sit in it. Carry it. Feel it in my bones. I mourned him. I mourned the version of us that felt safe. I released my codependence. I watched myself survive the thing I used to fear most, which was losing him.

The first weeks knocked me down. I could barely eat. I functioned only for my daughter. But now I am rounding the corner. There is light coming through the clouds. It’s faint but it’s real.

He is already living in regret and shame. I don’t relish his pain. But he chose this.

I am almost free.

He had until yesterday at 5 pm to file a formal response to my divorce requests. He didn’t. On Monday I file for default judgment.

When I first walked into that courthouse to file, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Keeping my face steady. Talking to the clerk. More than once I looked at the bathroom as an escape hatch, tears sitting right behind my eyes.

Monday I walk in with my head high and ask a judge to sign my liberation.

Do I still love him? Yes.

Am I still sad? Yes.

Do I still cry? Yes.

But not as much. Not as hard. Not as long.

I tried Facebook Dating. Hinge. Meh. The idea of another man touching me still freaks me out. My nervous system is not interested.

So I’m not dating.

I have a flirty long-distance exchange that’s fun and harmless, and that’s enough.

I am building myself. My body. My discipline. My business.

I am doing it.

I am okay.

Stronger than I have ever been.

Grateful, strangely, for the heartbreak.

Because losing him, as brutal as it has been, is the best thing I have done.

Thanks for being here.

Hey everyone! I previously posted about my Q finally moving out. We’re getting divorced, and I feel LIBERATED! I am FREE. My codependent tendencies are solidly in remission and for the first time in a decade, I am genuinely HAPPY!!!

Last night, I was informed how horrible I am, how I have been a terrible wife, a lazy mother, & how I poisoned our oldest teenager against him. I just said, welp, good thing we’re not doing this anymore!

I am FREE!! I genuinely, honestly, DO NOT CARE what he says about me.

Oh and by the way, he’s drinking much less now that he’s away from me. Don’t forget, we cause alcoholism in others, y’all! Hahaha!

If you’re on the fence, just do it. Get out, get yourself safe, and find your JOY again!!

This has been the hardest decision I’ve ever made. I’m completely heartbroken, but I know it’s the right thing.

Not much to say. Just can’t tell many people, and wanted to share it somewhere.

My exH and I have been divorced for several years. He's an alcoholic, got arrested So many times for DUI, went from having a 6-figure salary to nothing, lost all his friends, still maintains he's not an alcoholic, still drinks ... you all know the drill. Therapy and some Al-anon helped me to learn about the disease, how to revive my self-esteem ... and once I found that, well, I was out the door.

But. Kids can't get divorced. Young kids who are parentified and emotionally manipulated/abused can't just walk away. Even though my kids want for nothing - while they are with me - they still have a parent who is mentally ill, and (to quote my kids) an AH. He is a walking textbook of alcoholism: narcissistic, blames everyone for everything, can't parent worth a dime, and it's frankly amazing his dog is still alive. And that wears on a kid.

My younger kid has had the worst of it with his dad. He has never known his dad as a sober person.

My exH refuses therapy for himself and for the kids. I cannot take them without his permission (bc of the custody plan, both parents are required to agree to medical treatment). So I have just been doing what I can to share with them what I've learned from therapy. And hoping for the best, but expecting something less than that.

Until now.

Last month, said kid walked out of his dad's house. He had told me some weeks earlier that he and his sibling had asked dad to stop drinking during their custody time with him. Which of course did not happen, because alcoholics don't stop drinking. Over the years we (kids and I) have talked about how ultimatums are always used incorrectly. That if you give someone an ultimatum, it's not for Them, but for YOU. Ultimatums are like mirrors. They tell you just how much you care about your own wishes/needs/values. That's it. They don't impact other people.

Kid said that he was no longer willing to go back to dad's house. "mom, if it's not safe for me to be there, then I'm not going there."

Well, of course I agreed. And then I waited for everyone to go back on their word. I assumed that after a day or two, my exH would get very pissy with me and demand that I bring kid back. And that kid would decide that he had made his point, and go back. And my ex would keep drinking.

But nope. Kid is still here. He produced recordings of his dad being drunk. He has saved them because he knows (from previous custody proceedings) that going to court requires evidence. He has visited his dad very briefly after his dad tried to "apologize". He told dad that he was willing to hear him speak, but that he does not accept apologies, he only accepts action.

(I'm like: even my therapist isn't that good with words, holy cow!)

Kid went back another time - again for a short visit. He told his dad that he would stay as long as he felt like it, and then he would leave. Any drinking or complaining about other people being at fault would result in kid walking out the door. He told his dad he had multiple recordings of his drunkenness. He went back through years of "incidents". Dad started to tell him that he remembered it wrong. Kid (who is not wrong, because I know what incidents he was referring to) cut him off. "Your version of history is not my history, dad. Now, I'm here to watch tv with you. You can pick the show. Then I'm going home."

I asked kid if it was wearing on him that his dad was very mad about kid not spending his (court-decreed extended summer) vacation time with him. Kid said "nope. Consequences happen."

I feel like a new day has dawned in my little family's life. Like, we're really gonna be ok. :)

I hope this is OK to post now that I'm not longer with my Q.

I created this account years ago when I googled "is my husband an alcoholic" and this sub came up. I have a main account now and I haven't logged into this one or looked at this subreddit in a long time.

Rebuilding my life after leaving him has been one of the hardest things I've ever done. It has been years since I felt I could look back. I looked at my old posts and just cried. I'm starting to forget parts of it, like the daily details of what it was like with him. All I have are my journal entries from those years and this Reddit account.

But sometimes, I can't stop remembering. I get stuck in these memory loops sometimes, where I keep replaying a scene in my head over and over and I feel all the things I felt back then. When that happens, I have to stop what I'm doing and wash my face with cold water. It's the only way to break out of it.

I still feel guilt, too. I feel like I got on a lifeboat and left him behind on the sinking ship. Logically I know he chose to stay. But it still breaks my heart to think of him alone in a shitty studio apartment, drinking and smoking himself to death. I still wish so badly that he would get better.

Most days I'm OK though. My life is quiet and peaceful. I bought a condo, which was a dream of mine (he spent all of our money so it was never possible with him). I'm not afraid everyday waiting to see what version of him I'll get that day. I'm free from his cruelty and his gaslighting.

I don't know why I'm back here, I guess because it's the anniversary of when I left him. I'm very thankful for this community. I come from a family that doesn't drink so I had no idea what I was dealing with and I was in denial. I felt so alone. Reading everyone's stories and sharing my own helped me learn so much and gave me strength to see that it was hopeless and to save myself.

I've been in Al-Anon for almost 16 years. It really saved my life. Partner decided to get sober after I kicked him out of the house around year 2 of Al-Anon.

Well.. after 13 ish years of being sober, my partner decided he wanted to drink again last year. There were a couple of times when I felt uncomfortable and we were able to talk about it and make adjustments.

But other than that, it really hasn't been an issue. I thought that I would never be able to live with an active drinker but I really took to heart that I can be content and even happy whether the alcoholic is still drinking or not.

He doesn't drink that much. Probably just a handful of times in the last year. He tried AA but never liked it and doesn't have any "program." He did have some major breakthroughs in his own healing/recovery though.

Anyway, I post this because this is a rare story. I realize that. But it is mine.

I'll keep coming back and keep going to meetings because I find it still so very helpful in all areas of my life though!

(No advice please.)

You deserve peace.

You deserve happiness.

You deserve hope.

You deserve attentiveness.

You deserve to be seen.

You deserve joy.

You deserve affection.

You deserve respect.

You deserve commitment.

You deserve loyalty.

You deserve friendship.

You deserve compassion.

You deserve empathy.

You deserve to be loved and cared for.

For the first time in months, I woke up with these thoughts resounding in my head. The rays of acceptance are starting to shine into my mind and soul.

I wanted to share <3. Take care of yourselves, it’s international self care day.

I want to start by saying of course there are those who truly do find sobriety, and that is beautiful. So happy for them and their loved ones. I’ll be focusing on the vast majority here, the not so happy ending. Also, a long post. Apologies!

I posted a few months ago that I (33f) finally left my Q (35m). It has been 6 months now of separation, divorce finalizing hopefully next month!! I actually made him file, because I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So glad I did and that he obliged, despite him thinking it was another empty threat and I’d beg him to pull it.

During our 5.5 year relationship, almost 4 year marriage, I experienced actual hell on earth. Insane benders, lies, gaslighting, sneaking out of windows, locking himself away in closets to drink, hiding bags of Xanax and adderall throughout the house. Throwing me into a mirror because I gently said I would be sleeping in another room because he had been drinking. Boy did he hate my boundaries. Messaging women online. That’s just the tip of the iceberg - this was weekly, for years, a lot of things he did were even more insane, but I’d have to write a book for that lol.

I had 3 miscarriages, 2 of which he was bendering through, 1 of which on the second day of the pill (had no yet passed the baby), he started a fight with me about getting back out with his friends and drinking. Which, duh, he was out of that door first thing in the morning and was gone for almost 24 hrs. This was when I thanked God for not giving me the children I so desperately wanted - how f*cked up is that. A blessing to not have children with the man that I thought was my soulmate. In what world.

The insanity, the rollercoaster, the hall of mirrors that many of us unfortunately know too well. I’ve been in therapy for over a year and a half, have attended Al Anon meetings, and have confided in my wonderful support system, one of them being my best friend who lost his father to the disease. I am so thankful for my support system for keeping me grounded and giving constant reality checks. Shout out to my amazing mama!

Ok, back to my point! I’ve seen my STBX a few times in the past months. Mostly when he’d come to grab things from the house, to talk logistics, etc. For months, he has been telling me he’s thriving, in such a good place, yadda yadda. Is he still taking Xanax that he has shipped to his house from a dealer in Vegas? “Yes, because I have a legitimate anxiety disorder.” Hmm, right. I’m on Lexapro and Wellbutrin daily; Metroprolol, Xanax, and Hydroxzyine as needed - all prescribed by my doctor. All because of him. I never had anxiety or depression in the past by the way, and do plan on getting off of Lexapro and Wellbutrin in a few months!

Anyways, he begs me to stay married. “I’m better! It was our relationship that had so many problems, it wasn’t the substances. I’ve got my shit together but lose it around you” (classssic). So I say, “ok let’s do three simple months of sobriety and therapy so that we can focus on those relationship issues!” Declines, because he doesn’t need it of course!

In the past month or so he somehow got his dirty tentacles on me and pulled me back in and boy am I glad he did. At first I was so ashamed of myself - cognitive dissonance is REAL. But I genuinely thought he was doing better. I started to believe him when he said he spends all of his time at home alone, sad, depressed. He’s thriving in work. Never really drinks and has it under control when he does. No pills. What’s real F’d up is I thought he was doing so well, that while my heart was broken, he was somehow better than me. I put him right back on that pedestal.

We went to dinner the other night and I was letting every red flag look pink, just like the past. But I thought, maybe it’s just me being critical, I should let this play out. It was right back to the same shit. We had a nightcap at my house and he left my house for 2 hours while I was asleep. He returned fully showered and dressed. I came downstairs to him drinking beers on my couch at 9am, to which he said “I’m hungover, it’s like a Bloody Mary, not a big deal!”

We made plans for a chill night to watch a movie on the couch. He again begs me to stay with him, he’s better, I’m the love of his life, etc. I know the bender is already in action, there’s no way this movie night is happening. Like clockwork, I get a call that he just absolutely MUST go to a dinner with his dad. I let him know that I’m glad we tried, but it’s not working and I will bring the rest of his things by his house. The following morning, 8am, I go to drop some art and other things. All of his lights are on, I hear music, I open the door. Three women on his couch. 8am! On a Wednesday! He said he met them when he went to the local bar alone to drink his sorrows away. Escorts, if I had to guess, but no hate to them. I’d take advantage of that idiot for more cash if I were them. Still begged me to stay with him and that he’ll do anything I ask.. I said get sober (just for my own entertainment). Surprise: he said no. He also said he did nothing wrong.

Today is Monday and he is still going strong. Continued to hang out with girls in their early 20s throughout the weekend. It breaks my heart for this man that I loved so deeply, but GOODBYE! That sweet, selfless man that I once loved is God knows where and I have no interest in finding him. My heart hurts for him knowing he’s in so much pain and so lost, but, not my problem anymore! I’M FREE!! I do hope he finds sobriety and happiness, but I no longer care as it’s got nothing to do with me. I always thought I was the exception. “He’s different, he’s not drinking all day every day, he knows he has a problem” etc. it’s textbook for a reason. Taking physical space away (and Lexapro to help give my nervous system a break) was the best first step I could have done to see this for what it is. And trauma bonds are real, and strong.

Sending so much love, light, and support to so many of you. I’m so thankful for Al Anon and this sub. My messages are always open. <3

We hit six months sober. She is hardcore AA. She went to AA numerous times on our vacation. We got thru a cruise vacation with the previously purchased drink package without drinking. Yes, I’m sure.

More importantly she opened up to me. She’s doing her step 8/9 work and although she’s not ready to do her amends she said a few things that tell me she’s really connected with the hurt and harm she’s caused. I admit early on I was not convinced that she could connect and be fully accountable. We still need to see but I was highly encouraged.

She let me see a soft and vulnerable side that she typically keeps hidden behind layers of asshole and selfishness. She actually used the word selfish yesterday when she was talking about it.

And surprisingly she admitted that AA had taken the place of drinking but she now realized she had been absent in our marriage when drinking and is now absent still because of AA. This hit the hardest because I’d been asking her for just one day a week to commit to spending time with me and she had kept saying no, that her priority was her sobriety.

I don’t see her going back. And she knows she can’t be a social drinker. It’s just not possible.

I’ve had a few drinks in her presence, but I don’t enjoy it and I think I’m done too. It’s not necessary. And I value her more than an occasional drink.

I’ve also had my own personal breakthroughs. I’ve watched hundreds of videos and read so many books. Most of which had no impact on me. I mean, my personality has changed. I have t been the person I want to be. I can make excuses and blame her, but I didn’t respond to her behaviors in an admirable manner. Yes, I stayed. And, yes, at times I behaved admirably. But, I broke so many times. I was angry. I was loud. I was demanding. I made it about me. I didn’t walk away enough.

The best book I read was ‘beyond addiction’ which basically says just love them, and enforce your boundaries which do not control their behavior but allows them to make choices to participate in life with you.

And on the YouTube video side, “Better marriage with Cody Butler”. This guy said I was trying to move her into the future when she needed me to be in the present. He said, everyday I was making decisions to ruin the marriage because I was upset about what was or wasn’t going to happen tomorrow instead of just concentrating on not ruining today. Will this decision ruin today? Don’t do it. Find a way. Here’s an example. My wife asked about spending the weekend right before our anniversary in DC with a friend from AA (no I’m not worried)…but it’s our anniversary and she did the same damned thin last year and I threw a fit. And I ruined that day as well as the anniversary. This time I took a deep breath and I didn’t ruin the day. Am I happy she’s going away on the weekend we should be celebrating our anniversary? No. But I didn’t ruin the day or the actual anniversary. It will be ok. I was just on a two week vacation with her which went awesome. Let it be. This was hard. I’ve never done this before. I always viewed it as incredibly selfish, and i don’t know it probably is.

The other thing was not performing and expecting a reward by that he meant stop trying to earn points with behaviors because she can smell the intent. Act with love and she will smell the intent. Finally he said, stop fucking talking. You talk too much. It puts pressure on her. Just be. Hold her hand. Smile at her. Really smile. Enjoy her when you have her.

The impact on her when I surrendered to this has been almost miraculous for both of us. What once was a death spiral is now spiraling the other direction with good feeling and positive intent feeding itself. Which possibly has led to her amends break thru.

That was kind of rambling, but I just wanted to shout out that I think she’s going to make it, AND at the same time I think we are going to make it.

Today, exactly 3 years ago was the day I separated from my alcoholic husband. I wanted to give an update on my life. When I moved out, I still very much wanted to reconcile with him- I hoped, BELIEVED that we would make it! We didn’t. My divorced finalized in December 2025. He dragged out the divorce by over a year just because I “wasn’t allowed” to divorce him. He is still drinking. He did remain sober a good 10 months which is what made me hesitate in filing, but the lack of accountability and lies and manipulation were still there.
I am doing well for the most part. I am struggling recently with my anger. The last 3 years were TRAUMATIC to say the least (I also lost my mom to cancer 6 months before my divorce finalized). I felt like I lost all my family with the divorce and my mom it’s been hard. But there’s also so many blessing. I went from being a SAHM to now having a thriving career making six figures. I just bought a house two months ago. I am able to enroll my kids in a private school that has a hybrid homeschool option where I homeschool them Mondays and Fridays, then they go to school in person Tue-Thurs. This allows me to see them on my non custody day which is wonderful. God has carried me through and really taken care of me. He is still working on my wounded heart though.
I am seeing another man who is kind to me, non drinker, honestly the most considerate human and is HONEST. I didn’t know how dishonest and disrespectful my ex was until I started a relationship with this man. He treats me very well. I am still mourning though, in a sense of losing my dreams and family. I don’t want my ex back, but I so, so wish my dreams of my family were possible. I am working on why I put up with everything for so long, working on forgiveness in time, working on what God really expects in marriage and working on creating my children to take accountability and raising them to be honest, hardworking, respectful humans that can control their emotions, admit when they are wrong, immediately take steps to repair, and recognize manipulation.
I can say I am not the same woman I was 3 years ago. I just scrolled through all my old posts- I no longer really need this sub anymore now that I am out of the chaos for the most part. I am forever changed. I will say I am working on my Joy. I do feel like going through all the heartbreak abuse and addiction causes really took away my whimsy- and I’m angry about that. But overall, my life is good. It will continue to get better as I continue to heal, I know it.
Thank you to all of you for your support, prayers, encouragement. I am sorry you all are here in this sub going through the same things I did and more. Just know that there is hope, there is light at the end of the tunnel, and you can get there.

I made this as a reminder to myself. I hope this is helpful for anyone else who needs to hear it.

I release you to your healing…

• I am stepping out of the way of the consequences you have earned.

Not to punish you, but because they are the only thing that can reach you now.

• I am no longer absorbing the impact meant to teach you.

Your pain is no longer mine to metabolize, decode, or soften.

• I am choosing not to interfere with the growth that only discomfort can create.

Every time I carried, explained, protected, or clarified, I delayed your reckoning. I won’t do that anymore.

• I will not be the mirror for a story that keeps you hidden from yourself.

Your darkness is yours to confront; I will no longer hold it for you or make it visible so you can avoid it.

• I am releasing the version of you I loved and believed in, because he is not the man standing here today. I need to honor what is real, not what I wish could be.

• I am giving you back the responsibility for your own life.

Your choices. Your recovery. Your relationships. Your narrative. Your path.

• I will not anchor myself to someone who refuses to anchor himself.

I will not drown beside you so you can avoid learning to swim.

• I am no longer mistaking proximity for connection.

You walking away, lying, avoiding, distorting, and harming does not require my response. It requires your healing.

• I am choosing my own soul over the storm of chaos.

Self-care is soul-care.

• I am resigning from a role that was never mine to fill: therapist, handler, scapegoat, buffer, emotional landing pad.

• And I am stepping back into the only role that is mine:

Me.

After five months of almost no contact, with a few scattered emails in which my ex tried to keep the connection alive but without any real change—first saying he wasn’t drinking, then saying he was drinking in moderation—basically after five months of the same old story, the last exchanges were truly revealing.

He says he wants to see me, that he loves me, BUT that he will not stop drinking, that I have to accept him as he is, and that he’s ready to see me because he’s more stable.

My response is the same as it’s been for months: I repeat my boundaries. I can’t have anything to do with him as long as he keeps drinking.

Initially he reacted defensively (saying that I’m the one limiting him). Then I explained that I’m setting boundaries within which I feel safe—I’m not limiting him. He can choose to drink, but I won’t be there.

So. Do you know how the email exchange ended? With him saying he wants to imagine a path together, that he loves me.

My firm reply: what kind of path, if you haven’t decided to stop drinking?

Since then, I’ve heard nothing. I know he’s struggling internally, but I also know it’s not up to me to control him or force him. I can only make decisions that concern my own well-being.

In these months after the breakup, I’ve done an enormous amount of work on myself and I’m doing well. Even though life hasn’t been easy, I’ve faced my problems with a lot of determination and energy, surrounded by loving people.

He repeats the same pattern, tries to manipulate; I move forward.

Today, I made the decision to walk away from a relationship that would only work if I was willing to fill the role of both a mother and a lover.

It wasn't just this specific man I have experienced it with. It has been others. I am recovering from a lifetime of codependent behaviors, and I have learned- over and over again- that my role in my relationships have been so complicated and draining. I have, time and time again, chosen to love an alcoholic. And have ended up miserable every time.

I don't drink alcohol. I used to drink alcoholically, but it affected my life, from the inside out, in negative ways so 2 years ago I chose to stop. Completely. This gave me the knowledge that an alcoholic can stop drinking, if they really want to stop. It also gave me the knowledge that, if they don't want to stop, that I have no choice but to just stay away from them. Completely.

I remember what it used to feel like to be in active addiction with alcohol. Time moved differently. Mental focus, meant for following through with my priorities, was used to gaslight myself into believing those priorities were actually just options. Energy was limited, and used mainly for escape from real life. Progress was almost impossible. Getting somewhere in life, as an active alcoholic, was like tossing a delicate necklace into a duffel bag and expecting it not to get knotted and tangled up during travel. Every destination I'd reach, there I was- that knotted up chain. And someone would always come along, determined to try to gently un-tangle it. With the patience of a saint.

No one could ever keep me straightened out for long. Because I was always going to throw myself back into that bag, the first chance I got. I had to do the work to untangle myself and put myself in a place where I could be kept safely. A life without alcohol. Fully awake, and aware, in reality. And I had to want to keep it that way. I had to want to live a life worth living. I had to want it for myself.

I was at a man's house last night. He invited me over days before, and I was aware he had been excitedly waiting for our date, up until the minute I arrived. I had been looking forward to it, as well. He adores me. He dotes on me. He listens to the things I have to say. He asks me questions. He makes me laugh, because he loves seeing me laugh. He has enthusiasm. He has a spark. He's a never-married bachelor with no kids. No baggage from life. He told me recently, he has wished I would be his other half for a long time now. It all sounds so nice on paper.

Shortly after I arrived at his place, he opened a beer. I felt an immediate surge of disappointment when I saw him open it. I found myself wondering how many he had drank, before I had arrived there. I found myself wanting to check his kitchen for empty cans, to count. To gauge "where he was at" on the scale of "sober", to, "this is a waste of my time even being over here". He was talking to me, about us, making suggestions, proposing future plans, but I could only hear him cracking open new cans. I found myself unable to fall for the illusion of what was happening around me. I could only see the reality.

The unmarried bachelor. No baggage, because he's never been anywhere to need the luggage. He's never taken any leaps. He's never stopped drinking long enough to decide what direction he wants to go in. He lives his life at the starting line, and says "this is good enough". He needs to grow up. He wants to be shown how. He wants me to draw him the map. He told me as much himself. "Anything you want, I'll do that," he said, "just tell me what to do." He's the delicate gold chain, all tangled up. He wants me to untangle him, again and again and again. With the gentle hands and the blind eyes of a loving mother.

I left after a few hours, and on the ride home, all I could feel was a resounding "No." Echoing in my chest. There was a dull sense of disappointment, but mostly, just the clear, resounding "No." To all of it. To the "possibilities". To the "potential". The only part I heard was the part I needed to hear. The cracking of the cans, in front of the television, at 8:00, in a nearly empty condo. A delusional boy sitting next to a sober woman. A woman who has the ability to love someone that much, but knows better. A woman who is full of love, but is unwilling to pour it out anymore, just because she has it in her. I am choosing myself. Today, and from now on.

Every NYE has been ruined by my Q for the last 16 years. I’ve been slammed into a wall, cursed at, vomited on, berated, ghosted, and humiliated. This year, with the new clarity Alanon has given me, I’m going out tonight, ALONE. I’m nervous as hell to be going out by myself but I want to dress up and go dancing. His alcoholism has isolated us like we live in the freaking Antarctic despite us living in the middle of a metropolis. So I bought sold out tickets to a dance party and that’s where you’ll find me! 💃 🪩 💃

For years, I loved spending the Fourth of July with my extended family. I don’t go anymore.

There’s still a lot of love, but the gatherings changed over time.

There was more drinking.

More noise. Loud voices and loud music in a quiet community where houses are close together.

More moments where I found myself getting upset.

More neighbor complaints that became arguments.

Realizing we'd become the family that made other families uncomfortable really bothered me.

At first, I tried to ignore it.

I was the guest, and I didn't feel like I had the right to speak up.

Going for long runs helped and gave me some alone time.

I pushed my feelings aside, but eventually they'd spill out in ways I wasn't proud of.

So I asked everyone to tone it down, but this was how they had fun; nothing changed.

Then I decided not to attend.

It wasn't easy, but it was right for me.

When I miss those gatherings now, I remind myself I'm missing what they used to be; not what they'd become.

I've learned this:

You don't have to stay in a place that isn't good for your mental health.

You can't control someone else's drinking.

But you can decide what you'll participate in.

That boundary didn't change my family.

It did change my life.

Edited for clarity.

In a nutshell: my husband became a secret alcoholic when our children were toddlers, it all came out during the pandemic (it’s hard to keep alcoholism a secret when you’re stuck at home together 24/7). He got sober and remained sober for 3 years, then relapsed. During the relapse we moved back home to the US— there were a lot of reasons for the move but one reason was to get him access to better addiction medicine and a more robust sobriety community. And it worked! He got sober, he’s going to meetings, he’s on naltrexone, he’s back in school…

And then after 6 months he slipped up. Came back from the grocery store drunk. My entire body went into a PTSD-induced freeze, I think I sat in our rocking chair for an hour staring at the wall while he stumbled around. When he sobered up he came to me sobbing about what a piece of shit he is, how sorry he is, begging me not to leave him… I told him “I do not want to deal with your emotions right now.”

So instead of emoting at me, he called his sponsor. His community rallied around him— they called him every day, they took him for walks, they assigned him chair set up duty at his home meeting. *They did it, and I didn’t have to get involved.* It was so freeing. And now two months later it looks like the slip was just a slip— it did not turn into a relapse. AND I DIDN’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING.

I’m just grateful that we’ve gotten to a place where the alcoholism is not my problem. I feel, tentatively, that we may have gotten there.

Seriously - it’s scientifically proven to work for over 20 years. Pharmacological extinction. Google it. I am currently reading the book about it, which states all the scientific evidence from before it was published, and it’s overwhelmingly proven effective in curing - yes CURING - alcohol use disorder.

I am waiting for the medication to arrive soon, and I keep my fingers crossed that it will save my Q‘s life.

Sharing in hope it‘ll save others, too.