I have decided after many years to write my story about living with an alcoholic although I think for many years I was in denial.
He was smart,looked good and worked, but behind the scenes there was the driving force to have another drink. Holidays were the worst time. He had to make sure there was enough booze to carry on over the holiday period,
He was kind though but weak.
From collapsing over the Christmas dinner table (he had visited the pub before hand) to burning a hole in one of my best tablecloths. He lost his licence and I had to get up every morning to drive to the train station, because he was paranoid he would smell before he got to the station. He was certainly a strange guy.
And then one day he stopped drinking. I didn’t recognise him and in a strange way didn’t know him anymore. He ate loads and loads of sweets and unfortunately the relationship didn’t survive. I did discover later that he got married and was back drinking, and then the devastating news he had died. Don’t know how. Such a stupid waste.