Counting down to lift-off

So, Rosie and I are leaving for a month. We leave in a few days. Ben is still drunk, claiming he’s detoxing himself slowly. I don’t see much evidence of a detox. He is glazed over, unshorn, and reeks of beer. His stomach is bloated – a sure sign he’s been abusing. He’s usually thin as a city fox. As soon as he drinks, his stomach inflates like one of Louis Armstrong’s cheeks.

I’m stressing, of course I am. If he isn’t sober by Monday, he’s in trouble, because the rehab centre he is visiting doesn’t offer detoxes. He has to be clean before he is admitted. I have little confidence that he is going to turn up, anyway. He’s already blown two appointments with them. Am I going to have to miss my four morning meetings to make sure he gets up there? Am I going to have to put that time in? Or do I leave it to him, and if he comes back, tell him he can’t come back?

The disappointments keep adding up. I can’t restrain my anger when I’m around him, either. I find myself telling him horrible things – harmful, undermining things. I tell him he’s a failure, an idiot and a waste of space. I slap him on the legs – twice – when Rosie and I come home and find him drunk and crashed out on the futon at 4 o’clock in the afternoon.

Then I leave with Rosie, and meet a friend in the park. I apologise to Ben over the phone. As long as I am not actually looking at him – seeing that glazed over, red-faced, stupid expression – I can speak rationally to him. But if we are in the same room, I  feel revulsion… and guilt. I look at him and feel responsible.

He’s on the sofa right now. The tv is blaring as usual, and he is umming to himself in his sleep. He’s on Prozac, beta blockers, vitamin B and booze. He is permanently sweaty. I can’t bring myself to sit on certain parts of the futon. The smell is too off-putting.

So, it’s Saturday. A few more days and that’s it. If things go to plan, he’ll be gone by Monday. Much as I want him to go, I wonder what it will be like to be on my own with Rosie. Just the two of us from then on. The thought of it fills me with sudden and unexpected dread. I’m scared. Why?

 

 

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91 thoughts on “Counting down to lift-off

  1. Hi. Whether you realize it or not, you have already been alone with your daughter! Hopefully you will realize how much easier it is for you to just have yourself and her to look after during your holiday. Sending lots of prayers to you, your daughter and your husband. May this be the time when he is ready and able to start his recovery.

  2. It’s so easy to give advice…to say that you should worry about you and Rosie. He is an adult. BUT I constantly worry about my EX-husband, so touche, I get it. I also understand the guilt. Oh, sister, how I understand the guilt. From the outside looking in, I can see that it isn’t rational. You have every right to your feelings and your expression of those feelings. It sucks to be the parent of your spouse. It sucks not to be able to rely on them even to just TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES. It is infuriating.
    I guess I will just say this. Whether you miss your meetings and make sure he gets into rehab, it won’t guarantee that he will stay. It won’t guarantee that it will “stick” if he does stay. And more than likely, it won’t alleviate your guilt.
    There have been so many times when I thought my ex was at his bottom, but obviously, I’m not him. His bottom is not the same as mine. My ex-mother-in-law once told me that I needed to get out of his way and let him hit bottom or he would never get there and then never get help.
    I still think about that when I start to feel guilt about him struggling and me not-so-struggling. I can’t fix him. And by trying to fix him, I’m doing the opposite. I have to get out of the way and let him find his way to being a man that can stand on his own.

    • You know, you’re absolutely right. And in the end, I didn’t miss my meetings. I went into work and he went to the rehab centre for his assessment. Of course, I did ring the centre to find out what time his appointment was – and then rang him to tell him he had to get up right away and go. I even came back from my childminder’s and waited at home until he left. I wanted to be sure he would make it in time. Apparently, he did. He is in withdrawal at the moment and has been all day, so shaking and throwing up. But at least he’s doing it. He is preparing himself to go in. I am hoping he goes in before I leave. Doesn’t seem likely right now. Let’s see.

  3. Wow — such powerful writing, and such a tragic story. Even reading your Tweets, I can see the ebb and flow of hope, acceptance, bitterness, fear, etc. I wish you and your family endless luck and blessings.

  4. Wow the strength and courage you have is incredible– you are an inspiration for so many women. Thank you for sharing these glimpses into your life.

  5. This post hits close to home for me. My father was an alcoholic, and died when I was 10. He spent many days in the last year of his life in the boozed up stupor that you describe so well. Unfortunately, those are some of the last memories I have of him. Here’s a link to a post I wrote about him in case you’re interested in checking it out.

    http://slightlyreworded.com/2012/01/10/gone-but-still-a-part-of-the-band/

    Thanks for sharing your story.

    Jimmy

    • I don’t want Rosie to remember her dad this way! I’m now wondering whether it’s too late. I read your post – direct and moving – and thought, how do you reconcile those memories with the ideal father figure we tend to create of our own fathers. How do you make sense of that memory? Does it crowd all the others out?

  6. What a terrific blog! Brava to you for jumping into this topic with such honesty and raw emotion. The fear arises because the focus has been on him so long, you’ve forgotten how to focus on your self, or your daughter. With your permission, I would like to recommend you as a resource on my web site – Compassionate Beginnings (compassionatebeginnings.org) which I’ve just started putting together. Your work here would be a valuable addition to the resources I’m pulling together. And it goes without saying that I will be following you with great interest!

    • Thanks, Kimberley. Yes, please do use my blog as a resource. I created it to help others who are in the same position as me. I’ve been getting a lot of care and support through this blog, and hope others will as well.

  7. I see pieces of myself in this and it is so hard to read. Do you have Al-Anon in the UK? Please keep on with therapy and seek out a support group for loved ones of alcoholics. It will help you manage your codependency and feel more sane. (Feeling like you’re going crazy… an effect of living with someone with an addiction.)

    I recommend a book that changed my life – Codependent No More, by Melody Beattie. She writes having been from both sides of alcoholism – the alcoholic and the codependent one. Please read it.

    Good luck to you sister, I wish the best.

  8. “his stomach inflates like one of Louis Armstrong’s cheeks.” I know exactly what you mean. I’ve seen extremely thin drunkards whose bellies jut outwards, distended. And I smell the smells and see the sweat. In movies like Bad Santa this type of guy makes me laugh but in realty it’s bad news. Please don’t let him behind the wheel of a car.

  9. I’m sure you will find many hearts reaching out to you…I hope you can take some of this support and do what is best for you and your daughter. One of the better books on addiction I’ve read is The Addictive Personality by Craig Nakken. It takes a holistic view of addiction as a way of being. He doesn’t think people are born with this personality, so don’t be put off by the title. He mainly feels that addictions are so powerful they begin to sculp our personalities.

    I wish you well on your journey. patrice

  10. Dear MtaA,
    Alcoholism is such a dreadful, life & love ravaging disease. Even with all the information available since AA & Alanon are referenced in movies and documentaries on the big screen and on TV, there’s still misguided stigmas – as if addiction and alcoholism are moral failings. When a loved one has cancer, the community will show up with meals. When a loved one has alcoholism, the community watches the family deteriorate from afar. Brava for you for finding a community of support through your blog. Writing is great self care, and your truth telling helps others too. You, Rosie, and Ben are in my prayers. Hug, L.

    • Thank you, ellekelly. So many people have shared their stories and posted their encouragement. I hope my posts help others out there. There are far too many of us locked away in our own private suffering.

  11. I know from personal experience how draining it can be to live with an alcoholic. The time you and Rosie spend on your own will do the both of you good.There is no normality or stability when living with alcoholism in the home environment – especially not for the children involved. (My mum is a alcoholic, I’m in my 30’s now and live on the other side of the world from her now, but it still impacts on me when family contacts me about her latest fall or accident etc 😦

    Stay strong and you and your daughter are in my thoughts.

      • I had to learn to be very ‘strict’ with her and not enable her in any sense, shape or form. By strict I mean keeping her at an emotional distance at all times, ignoring her whenever she phones me up drunk, or sends e-mails when under the influence.

        My family also ‘learned by example’ not to contact me lightly about the newest havoc she wrecked verbally on a family member/friend of the family. The thing is, people sort of start to blame the wife/adult children/partner etc of an alcoholic for their behaviour. As if the alcoholic in question is a child and we are the parents, and said alcoholic should be kept on a leash because the have yet again caused people stress or caused an accident or something.

        I had to learn the hard way to never to trust my mother. Alcoholism is a seperate entity to the poeple that we love, eventually though, if they never stop drinking, the alcoholic side of the personality takes over for good.

        You asked how I cope now? Day by day, always dreading the phone to ring, or e-mail from family or friends of the family regarding her.

        As for moving across the world, no, not at all really. But distance (UK from Africa) gives much needed perspective, and also I can’t just jump in my car anymore when she phones me. I did at first feel guilty about being so far away, and letting other people cope with her, but with time I realised that I enabled her by my mere presence, pandered to her whims, and let her emotionally abuse me as an adult.

        My mother will never change. I have to live with that every single day of my life.

      • I can’t imagine how you coped with her alcoholism. The unconditional love and support of a mother is essential to making us who we are. Yet you have managed to become who you are – a reflective, balanced person – despite her absence. You should never feel guilty for moving away. And sometimes, it isn’t such a bad thing to just not pick up that phone. What is your own relationship to alcohol? I live in the UK myself and find the ubiquity and permissive attitude towards alcohol really disconcerting.

      • With difficulity and with lots of time, distance and space between us. Most days I cope fine, but then there comes a call about her beeing yet again in the hospital after another fall with a broken rib, or getting stitches to the head etc. It is on those days that the reality really hits home again.

        My husband knows by now that when he comes home and I am withdrawn, something happened with her again.

        As for my own (non) relationship to alcohol, I do not drink at all. My husband does not drink either or very rarelly and then only one beer or one glass of wine. I have never deemed it nessesary to have a glass in my hand in order to have a good time, and maybe because I grew up with alcohol abuse, I never developed a taste for it, even the smell on someones breath I find ever so off putting.

        I will serve wine when we have people over for dinner, but even going out bying it makes me feel really weird for some or other reason. Sad hey 😦

        I fully agree about what you said about the flippant attitude towards alcohol in the UK.

      • Exactly. I don`t drink either. I can`t bare the smell of alcohol, particularly beer. I find my stress levels rise as soon as I get a whiff of the stuff. I would agree that even buying alcohol can have unwanted repercussions. I don`t like it either. I often wonder whether it`s a form of post-traumatic stress disorder. I remember when Ben stopped driving and was in withdrawal, and I had to `help`him buy beer (this was just before he went into detox). It was awful. I had to drive him there and look away while he bought his case of beer. It disgusted me. Every time I find a can and have to pour it out somewhere, I feel revolted.

      • It is eerie..because you describe the exact same emotions that I feel around the smell of alcohol. As for the PTSD, yes it is. I have just finished a years worth of cognitive behavioural therapy because of the Panic Disorder, OCD and PTSD I developed as a direct result of my childhood. For years I just suppressed everything, and it all came back to bite me with a vengeance.There is no expiry date on emotional damage and often it only crops up years after the effect.

  12. Hi. You´re a strong woman, I think it´s great what you are doing, trying to help your husband, raising a kid and keeping sane by bloging it. If it´s bitter at the start then is sweeter in the end.

  13. Just seen this on Freshly Pressed. I think you’re incredibly brave for blogging about living with an alcoholic. I find it a bit heart breaking (child and grand-child of an alcoholic…family history of it) as I’m sure my mother went through similar issues with my dad. I noticed you’ve got Al-Anon tagged in some of your posts, so I’m glad you have a support system and aren’t totally on your own with this. Take care x

      • I’ve never honestly asked her how she managed when he was drinking; don’t think I want to hear the answer! I know she found Al-Anon at one point which was a great support for her. She still goes now, even though my da has been recovering for ten years. It provides support for her and she can help provide support for others too. Recently I found counselling really helpful, just to talk to an outsider about it. x

  14. I’ll be praying that all goes well — that Ben will allow himself to enter rehab and that you and Rosie will enjoy peace and strength of spirit. Keep us posted on Ben’s progress. May you feel God’s blessings.

  15. I admire your candour and honesty in writing this blog. I am certain that your openness and willingness to talk about your experiences will offer support to others living with alcoholic family members. You are strong and brave, and are a pillar of support for your daughter. I also have to say not only congrats but to express how happy I am to see that you were Freshly Pressed – there are so many out there that need to know about alcoholism, since it is so prevalent.
    All the best.

    • Thank you. Yes, I had no idea I’d been Freshly Pressed! I really hope that others out there draw some strength or support from some of my posts – and from comments left by visitors. Reaching out and realising we are not alone is one of the first steps toward recovery, I think.

  16. Thank you for being brave and writing in your blog so that others may benefit. The only advice I can give you as someone who has been in your shoes is to work on changing the only thing you can change… yourself. It is a very challenging situation to be in, but not hopeless in any way, wherever you end up with it. – be strong Sister

      • wow. that’s such an involved question. I would have to say that all the work I did on my own recovery was helpful. Al-anon, yoga, counseling…dang. It’s a process. Not an easy one. And of course, no one can tell anyone else what is right. sigh.

  17. The “tipping point” is such an anxiety-packed time frame in these kinds of circumstances. I can’t imagine the actual feelings you’re experiencing, but your ability to articulate your situation, thoughts, feelings, trepidations, with such honesty and clarity is very moving. Your writing (which is of excellent quality) emanates your own inner-strength – it is motivating. I hope the best for you during your sabbatical and over the course of the next few months, years. Please don’t stop writing!

  18. Wow thank you for sharing a deeply honest post.
    As for him leaving, it could be the kick up the arse he needs to make a real attempt at Detox and staying off the wagon, If not why make your’s and your daughters life harder than it has to be.

    I cannot even imagine what its like to deal with such a thing .

    Sn2snblog.

  19. I lived with it with an ex of mine. But you know what? You can’t save someone from themselves. You can only save yourself. What kind of message are you sending your daughter? That this is the what she has to deal with in life? This is the kind of man she deserves? Come on. Stop thinking about him. He’ll live. Start thinking about her.

    • Yes… ironically, I am still with him largely because of her – because despite everything, they have this amazing relationship. Even my friends have remarked on how exceptional their relationship is. He is a great dad, despite his alcoholism. That sounds like an oxymoron. It should be one, and yet, it isn’t. I know she deserves to have a well dad, not a sick one. I know that. I also know that she has been exposed to too much discord and danger. What can I say? I am trying to do what is right for everyone.

      • You are doing the best you can. There is no black and white here as suggested by the poster above. If you are going to stay for now, then be as honest as you can with your daughter so she can understand in her own way. She needs to know the truth, but in an appropriate way for her level of understanding. He is not a horrible person, he is a sick person. There is no right way to go through this and comments like the one above often aren’t very helpful.

      • She loves her father. Regardless of his state of mind, she loves him. I think you’ve done a great job of fostering that relationship despite your own feelings. That is difficult and shows that you are putting her first. I agree so much with misslisted. Despite similarities in situations, each situation is different because people are different. My decision to leave was based on my tolerance level and the things going on at the time. What is “right” is what you are comfortable with. Wives of alcoholics carry guilt, so we are constantly using a measuring scale to make decisions. We are constantly trying to make decisions with the least amount of negative affects. Continue to take cues from your daughter. Help her through the tough times by helping her understand things (at her level). Her greatest example will be you. So take care of yourself. She will see your strength REGARDLESS of your decision. No decision is wrong. You deserve happiness. And only you can decide what will bring you peace and happiness. Is it letting yourself let go of such a difficult life or is it standing by for a bit longer so that you don’t feel like you abandoned him? (I’m NOT saying that leaving him is abandonment. I just know that that to the alcoholic wife, it FEELS like it.) Anyway, it comes down to what you can live with and what will bring you peace.

  20. You didn’t cause the problem, you cannot cure it and you cannot control it. My husband has been sober for 16 years through the Grace of God and AA. It has not been easy. We’ve been married 31 years. I have been going to Al Anon for 14 years. In my opinion, there is no way for alcoholics to stay sober without the fellowship of AA.
    What are you doing for yourself? You have been affected by the disease. I hope you are going to Al Anon, or choosing to do another co dependency program. It helps to be with others who are going through the same things as you. You are not alone.

    • Al Anon … you know, I almost went to a group, but I have so little opportunity to get to meetings because I am really the only person who can take care of my daughter outside of work hours. I started this blog in an attempt to find some kind of fellowship in the absence of face-to-face contact. I have been so moved by the good will shown by people, like you, who have visited and commented on my posts. I’m so grateful for that. And I really hope that some of those posts do the same for others in the same position as me, because as you say, we are not alone.

      • Some meetings here in the US have babysitting available. The information should be online. Al Anon is international. You can also order some literature online from them as well- books- that may help you.

      • Thanks for this. Yes, I have contacted groups local to me, but they don’t permit children. It is also awkward, what with early bedtimes, etc. It just doesn’t work for me. But I have specific counselling sessions which are immensely helpful.

  21. I saw your blog on “freshly pressed” this morning and have been thinking of you and your family all day. I was a child in this situation for many years, and although the subject rarely comes up in my life today (I’m 27 now, married myself, father has passed away, and we moved across the country), it doesn’t take much to recall some of the moments you describe in your blog, and it is absolutely heartbreaking remember that other families are attempting to conquer the same things we once had to conquer. My thoughts are with you and your family, and I just wanted to thank you for having the strength to share these stories with the world and wish you the best of luck.

    • EV, thank you for sharing this. It made my stomach lurch to read your comment – just thinking what all this is doing to my daughter. How do you cope with it today? Did you ever take up drinking or did it feel like something absolutely taboo? How do you feel about alcohol now? How do you feel about your dad? My daughter is only 4, but I live with the constant fear that she will turn out like him.

      • Oh my, your last statement hit home. I constantly worry that my boys will follow in their father’s footsteps, as he followed in his father’s footsteps. It haunts me so much that I have trouble deciphering between normal teenage rebellion and these traits. I am constantly evaluating their every move. Gee, aren’t they lucky?

      • I somehow, whether through that experience, or through others in life, developed amazing coping and reasoning skills. I remember, even at ages as young as 5th or 6th grade, being able to think critically and logically about things around me. I actually think my dad (in conjunction with my mom) taught me this (he was a physicist) from the time I was very young (when he was sober). I recall times I hated my dad, and times I idolized him, and as an adult, I loved him as a person and as my dad, and I looked up to many talents he had, but I was able to see his negative behaviors as individual pieces of life and take note of what I did not want to become. My dad committed suicide when I was 14. We lived in a small town, so everyone knew and was affected by it, and we moved away a year later.

        Today, I only remember enough of the bad stuff to know not to live my life that way. I mostly have fond memories of the fun things we did together when I was younger and more naive. When I was in high school, I would not touch alcohol with a ten foot pole. In fact, I joke about a time I kicked a friend out of my New Year’s Eve party for bringing a bottle of vodka in 10th grade. In college, I only drank alcohol socially with my co-workers (who were all in their late twenties and thirties) – I never got into the “party scene” like many others. As an adult, I drink alcohol socially with friends, and I’ve had a glass of wine with my mom a time or two. I have a brother who is a couple years younger, and he’s the same way. I pretty much never drink at my house, unless friends come over, or my husband and I have a glass of wine with dinner. It weirds me out. It used to be a really touchy subject, but it has been so long (over 10 years) since those days, and we all gained the maturity and the understanding of the responsibility alcohol requires and what it can do to families and friends that I feel safe in drawing my lines, and I no longer feel it’s taboo or scary in my life.

      • This is the thing about extreme familial stress/trauma. It either gives you a will of steel or it shatters you completely. I am reassured by what you say – that you have managed to survive such despair and come out of it a balanced, healthy, caring and intelligent person. Thanks for sharing.

  22. You are not alone. Be strong for yourself and your family. By writing out your feelings, you’re actively working to better cope. And please don’t feel guilty for your anger/frustration – you’re human too and you’re trying to cope with a situation many run from. I know this probably sounds impossible, but try and make time to take care of you by doing something you truly enjoy. It’ll help you re-energize amd eep the big picture in mind. Take care.

      • I don’t have a similar experience, but I used to work, off and on, with people dealing with addiction. Adult relationships are hard when there’s not an addiction looming-I greatly respect what you’re going through. Finding a way to be supportive of a loved one, without fostering their self-destructive behavior, is a true high-wire act. I wish you and your family well. You could consider a support group to help you gain perspective, or counseling. Good luck, and take care.

  23. I have nothing to say except head up, sister..The sun is out there, go find that ray 🙂

  24. I was raised in an alcoholic household and my mother, Queen of DeNial, was a super enabler and she still is to my brothers who drink, live at home and can’t hardly hold jobs. My alcoholic father ran off with another woman many years ago and was never heard from since. I hope that he has sobered up with someone new. My mom was not a nice person, always looking for a fight and sometimes I think that is why she stayed with him til he left. She was always verbally abusive to us kids. I have no use for addicts. I actually kind of hate them and for good reason. My dad almost killed my sister and myself in a super drunken fit and she has never recovered from it. I saw my brother, who I love dearly, lose everything due to alcohol. He almost escaped it, was successful and the older he got, the more he drank. I call booze satan’s urine and always have. I used to drink a little when I was a very young adult. Thank God that I had to take beta blockers for a heart problem and could not drink. Not sure how your husband is doing this with an anti-depressant on top of it. That is not good for him at all. I know what you are talking about when they get stinking drunk. I can stay away from my brother when he starts acting offensive when he drinks. You must have the patience of a saint. Make sure why you are with this person and don’t settle for a bad life. I believe in tough love. If someone is an ass, don’t make it easy for them. Let them sink or swim, but then you have to be tough enough inside that it won’t kill you that they are sinking. Luckily most of my feelings were killed growing up so I didn’t get so emotional and heartbroken at things that would have bothered most people. That which does not kill you… Good luck and God bless!

  25. Because even though he’s not there, he’s there and there’s comfort in what you know, even if it’s miserable. it will be a relief and a much needed break when he’s gone. just keep breathing and smiling at your daughter. i wish you all well.

  26. Wow. I have so many things I’d like to say, but all I can get out is… wow. Be strong and move on-for your sake, for Rosie’s sake… and hopefully eventually for your husband’s sake. If moving on doesn’t make him wake up to his addiction, and get things in order, then nothing will-and that’s not a healthy situation for you and Rosie. I wish you strength, as I know what a tough cycle it is to break. I also wish you happiness, as you and Rosie deserve it. Thank you for sharing such raw emotion on such a devastating topic. I know there are a lot of people out there that are dealing with much the same thing and can gain strength from reading about your strength!

    • Thank you, cakesbykat. I don’t feel strong, though. Far from it. We never know how much we can cope with until we are in it. And once we are in it, the goalposts shift, and each new affront or trial quickly becomes part of the landscape. It becomes our normal.

      • I agree…. but the only thing you can do is (in the words of Dori from Finding Nemo) “Just keep swimming” and fight against the current until you break free and don’t have to tread water anymore. I’m sure your daughter will see you as being strong (if she doesn’t already). She will look to you and draw her own strength from you. You may feel alone, but you have many readers who are right there with you. Keep writing-it can be very therapeutic!

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  28. This was a very hard post for me to read — and I am glad you wrote it and it was Freshly Pressed.

    My mother (whose home I left at 14 to live with my Dad) is an alcoholic, now in a nursing home at 76 with dementia and a colostomy, some of which came from sucking back alcohol for decades. You MUST find ways to keep your daughter healthy emotionally; it is devastating to see a parent in this appalling state. The “normal” that keeps shifting is so horrible…I have to keep asking people what that looks like (and I am in my 50s) because with a drunk — who knows? “Normal” is watching someone drinking liquor like a parched person in a desert.

    I had denied for years how bad it was because, living very far away, I saw my mother once a year. By the end of her living alone, she smelled so bad she was now the person you would slither away from on a bus. Jesus.

    I would also suggest Al-Anon; do whatever is necessary to get there. Take your daughter with you, but get there. You will hear people say things you thought only lived inside your own head. I wish you both the best. It is such a nightmare.

    • I’m so sorry to hear this. Alcoholism ravages the mind, the body, the soul – and everything else around it like some contagious necrotising disease. What do you think of your mother now? What is your overwhelming memory of her? Was she always an addict or was there a time before that you can hold on to?

  29. This was very hard to read but I’m glad I did. My heart was breaking for you and your daughter. I have no idea what it’s like to live with an alcoholic so reading this was very eye-opening for me. Did he leave? Or did you end up leaving?

  30. Hi there. Wow. I, too, think your’re brave for putting all this out there. I’m glad you’re getting support. I didn’t read through all the comments, but I can only echo what I have read from some of the others. Al-anon and a good therapist for you… Maybe you could try some open AA speaker meetings… So you could understand the other side, if you wanted to. The bottom line is HE is the one who needs to want sobriety if it’s going to stick. And you need to take care of yourself and Rosie and work on accepting who he is at THIS moment. AA is a simple program but it can be really, really hard. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Try to work on acceptance.

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