I think things got worse after his mother died from cancer.
Or maybe that’s when I noticed it more.
He was a happy drunk before. Or should I say it enhanced his good moods and his bad. It’s hard to be upset with someone who is spilling forth good things about you. You are so wonderful. You are so beautiful. I’m so happy I married you. Yeah, tell me that when you are sober I’d laugh.
After his mom died it wasn’t fun anymore.
He didn’t have any family left. That’s a hard pill to swallow. No one. He never had a dad or siblings. His step-dad Darryl started dating online a month after his mother died. Paul felt like he helped Darryl out more than Darryl helped him through the grieving process. The rest of the extended family were the wedding funeral types. Our teenage kids met most of them the first time at their grandma’s funeral.
He started drinking more than his usual routine. A typical summer Tuesday he went out with friends and had maybe half a dozen drinks. Wednesday and Thursday a bottle of wine. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday he drank two bottles of wine. Monday he took the night off to prove he didn’t need to drink every night.
He was drinking somewhere around 40 drinks a week. Special occasions, hanging out with friends, or really bad days warranted a couple more drinks. So he had anywhere between 30 to 50+ drinks a week.
The year his mother died was a really rough year. I don’t think he cared anymore. His only parent was gone. He slowly watched her die. He coped with the loss by drinking more.
He said he wasn’t going to stop drinking until the doctor told him to. That year his liver numbers were a little high. It was just a fluke thing he said because he was out drinking with his friends the night before.
He wasn’t worried but I was.
Thanks for sharing this, you’re doing great.
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Thanks! I feel anxious writing about it but it is also healing.
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Putting ourselves on paper is always going to be anxiety ridden because people judge us….but we have to remain true to ourselves…
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For me there has always been a code of silence. Talking to outsiders about what was going on inside my house growing up was the worst treachery. It’s hard to break the anxiety that comes with sharing. My husband tells me he is okay with me writing about him but I still worry about his judgment. But I really think this helps me and maybe others. The problem lies within me. Being vulnerable and opening up is not my strong suit. I’d rather talk about the weather but that is nothing to write about.
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I find I’m much better at opening up here than in other areas…..
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True, but sometimes I’d rather write about it instead of talking about it face to face with other people. I’m not sure if that is completely healthy either. But I feel the need to keep an account of my life. I’m not sure why even.
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Who knows what’s healthy and what isn’t. Do what heals your heart
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