[unrecognisableme]

My partner of 3 years is an alcoholic. A bi-polar, anxious, introverted alcoholic. And one of the most wonderful people i know.
I am so lost, and clutching at straws as to whether any kind words from others can help at this point. I am sorry if I ramble, but I just have to say it! Someone has to read my story for it to not be a horrible dream. I need it to be real.

He is lovely, complimentary, he gives me affection and tries so hard every day to fight a disease which has taken him. Stolen him. I feel so bad for even voicing my problems because after reading what others go through, I feel like it may be all in my head.

He doesnt want help. I always ask him if there is anything i can do, if he wants to talk about it… and he hates it. But what else do i do? Sit back and watch him slowly kill himself? I hate feeling so helpless, and feeling like if he does kill himself then it will all be my fault. And by saying that, i hate myself for being so selfish.

He runs away from conversations about his drinking, it is a giant elephant in the room. He can feel me anger every time he has a drink but we say nothing. Until i break and scream and shout until we are both upset and it doesn’t help. It just makes things worse. Ive tried calmly talking, even scheduling time on a calendar to discuss options and help for both of us. But he isnt invested in anything and becomes defensive. He went to his doctor and then to a counsellor once a month. Once a month?! What about the other 30 days that we need help. Apparently that is all funding will allow.

I think about leaving, and wonder what he would do to himself if i left. It keeps me awake at night, the fear of the harm he would do to himself. On the good days, and they are wonderful days when he drinks less, he tells me he doesn’t know what he would do without me.
I feel i am under such immense amounts of pressure to say the right thing at the right time when all he does is tell me that there is no right thing.

He left the house one day, and by 1am i was frantic. Regardless of the fact he is a 28 year old man, i was so frightened for him. I drove around for 2 hours, a circuit of all the local pubs, routes home. Eventually i gave up but heard him come back 20 minutes later. Something dreadful had happened, which he cant remember because he was so drunk. But he knew something awful had happened. I was argumentative, and emotional. He fought me, physically, out of the room before falling asleep. He had never been violent before and i knew that he may not remember.

He did remember, a small part. The next evening he came to find me, begged me to stay with him that night as he was struggling to stay alive.

We are both still here, fighting to stay alive. We dont talk about anything, he wants no help. I have nothing else to offer and destroying myself by being a bystander to this awful monster killing the love of my life.

I need…. something. I dont know what it is. Hope is a lie.

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