My Story In A Nut Shell...Let me start off by saying that I am 22, my husband is 23. We have been together for 8 years and married for 3, last year we purchased a house together and while we don't have children we do have two wonderful babies (dogs) that are my only salvation when my husband goes missing for days on end. When I first started dating my husband things were great and for several years after we were that nauseating couple you see out in the park, holding hands and kissing. He used to love hiking with me, cooking dinner with me, going to the movies, going on long drives to nowhere, sitting on the couch just to watch TV. or a movie... Now I can barely get him to leave the garage to come sit down for a TV. show or to come to bed.
Last year, is when I started seriously noticing his drinking, he began drinking every night (Bud light is his beer of choice). When I noticed the problem I decided to confront it head on, we discussed the problem and we decided he would only drink on the weekends (now I know that this just enabled him to drink more). Slowly, it became 'well I don't have to work tomorrow so today and tomorrow are my weekends and therefore I can drink even though it is Monday...', eventually all the excuses ran out and he drank every night again. When I would confront him about the drinking and going out to bars he would just disappear for several days at a time. These drunken nights were filled with violence and verbal assaults and to make matters worse I found out he had cheated on me (blaming it on the alcohol of course). He began to use his addiction as a tool to keep me around, 'I don't mean to say those things to you I am weak, I am an alcoholic, I don't know the decisions I make'...'I don't remember laying my hands on you, I must have been drunk (as if that makes up for it)'.
I noticed small improvements around the holiday season of 2011, though he was still drinking, he was drinking at home and not going on. I justified these actions with the fact that he wasn't on the road driving drunk and I knew where he was so he must not be with anyone else. I have grown up around alcoholics my whole life, so it was easy for me to clean up after him when he was home. Grab water and place it next to the toilet on the nights he drinks so much that he vomits. Lay out Excedrin next to the bed for the next morning when he gets up. Make sure he has twenty alarms set so he can get out of bed and go to work. Though this is not how I want to spend my twenties I had no issue with it because he is my husband and I am his wife and these are the 'for better or worse'.
About a month ago he started sneaking out again, then disappeared for several days. At one point when he did come home I took the keys to all of our cars and motorcycles and hid them. The hate in his eyes brought me back to previous year incidents; I spent most the night locked in my bedroom hidden behind the bed until I finally heard him leave. After that incident I chose to step up and say no more. At least that is what I told myself... these last few weeks I get the motivation to leave him and finally separate because of the awful things he does but when he sobers up and I see that look of apology and sorry in his eyes, I fall back into this enabler mode.
A part of me wants to leave and start a new life away from him so I don't have to watch this slope he is headed down; but the devil on my shoulder is asking me how I would feel if something did happen to him knowing I could have been there to help stop it or attempt to stop it. I'm in this state of purgatory, unable to move to the next step because I can't make a decision. I see the man I married deep in there, but when is enough, enough? When do I finally throw in the towel and walk away? I know there is no real straight answer to these questions, but sometimes I wish there was an easy way out.