This is the first time in all the years of 'ugly' that I've actually reached out in any way to anyone other than family or friends. I'm not as good at talking as I am at writing about how I feel. I think I'm more honest when I write, and looking back on my own words is a good way to keep track of how (or if) I've changed. I know many of you share my experiences, so I am hoping for advice and support...or constructive criticism, which I expect to receive and probably need.

I met my husband while I was finishing my undergrad - I was tending bar at one of his haunts. The first few years weren't bad. We were young, and part of living in a college town, especially at our age, was the bar scene. Additionally, we live in a state where booze might as well be considered a food group. I am not trying to make light of a serious subject, but we do rank 30% higher than the rest of the nation in consumption...not that it matters. We make our own choices.

As I write this, my husband is picking a few things up from the store. He left almost four hours ago. I find myself sitting here doubting the person who left will be the same one to return. I love my husband when he is sober. I cannot stand being around him when he drinks. He truly is like Dr. Jekyyll and Mr. Hyde, and the anxiety I feel right now is the same anxiety I feel every time he leaves the house. He has called me six times to ask me the same questions. This is also common. I know he's checking the tone of my voice, which I've kept pleasant. I have become angrier with each call, but I will try to suppress it when he comes home. Arguing with him when he drinks is as productive as smashing my head repeatedly into a brick wall...and equally as painful (emotionally...he's only physically abusive to inanimate objects).

I want to call him right now to ask about the hold-up, but I know it will result in him becoming defensive and irritated. He will tell me that I have no idea how rude people are at the store, how he can barely see the check out from his position in line, how he was stopped by ten people and dragged into idle conversations, and how finding parking on our street was damn near impossible. I will let all of it go because if I don't, it will be turned on me. I will suddenly become the problem, my 'vices' will become the focus, and something I did two years ago will become the reason he has to leave the house again...also, he forgot one of the five things he set out to procure.

At this point, I'm probably presenting myself as a victim, but I'm finally trying to make some changes as I begin the new year.

Last night, I found an empty can of Mike's Hard Lemonade jammed into the trash. I have become used to finding 'VitaWater' or other bottles of 'juice' stashed around the house, but a 'whiff and sip' test always leaves me with cleared sinuses and a buzz. I have no idea how much my husband drinks, but from what I've deduced based on my 'test', it's a lot. So, why would I NOT expect the Mike's Hard Lemonade to rear it's ugly head in the garbage? Well, because I picked my husband up from the hospital one week ago today.

He's only 47, but he has a plethora of health issues, some caused by drinking and others exacerbated by it. He has Barrett's esophagus. I've taken him to the hospital twice for internal bleeding - the first, we barely made it in time. He has Psoriatic arthritis. He wasn't honest about his drinking habits, so the first rheumatologist prescribed medication that led to major stomach issues and liver damage. To my knowledge, he does not yet have Cirrhosis, but HIPPA means I am made privy only to what he'd like to share. He's not honest with me either. He fell in the bathroom one morning and knocked himself unconscious. I woke up thirty minutes later - I can't believe I didn't hear it happen. This hospital visit resulted in 32 staples to the scalp and skin grafts over the majority of his back, which was severely burned by the radiator.

The most recent hospital visit was initiated by a second seizure episode. The first was scary and consisted of three minor seizures. I took him in to emergency. It scared him enough to embrace sobriety for just over a year...it was wonderful. The other, on 12/24, was far more than scary. I awoke to a shriek and my husband looking as though he was hooked up to an electrical transformer. Not long ago, he had an 'accident' at work and suffered a concussion, so this made things even worse. He bit his tongue, and due to the amount of blood, I had no idea of its source...I called 911, worried it was coming out of his ears. After the paramedics took him away, I didn't visit. This is the first time I didn't visit. I couldn't look at him. I actually slept soundly for the next few days. When he called me to pick him up, the anxiety and resentment returned immediately.

Since he's been home, I've tried to be supportive, but it's not working so well. He's on medication that makes him just as loopy as the drinking - I read up on it, and I understand its purpose - since he adamantly refuses considering the idea of going to any kind of treatment, his doctors have given him what he needs to deal with seizures and DTs at home, along with the responsibility of following their orders. So far, it appears to me he's not responsible enough to do this, but what do I know? I DO know that his confidence in deception is not atypical of an alcoholic. Contrary to his belief, vodka isn't odorless, and most people don't make a habit of toting bottles of Listerine in the car.

I also know this will be the last time I witness a seizure. I'm done killing myself to save someone who doesn't think he's worth saving.

The past six months have been rough on the two of us. Budget cuts and lowered enrollment forced several teachers in my district into early retirement and resulted in the elimination of several positions (toward the top of the 'pay scale'...mine being one). We're down to the last of our resources, but FINALLY I have two offers on the table, so I'm going to take this as an opportunity to change...starting with my attitude and my grasp on the things I can control and the things I can't. My husband doesn't drink because I lost my job or because his hours are reduced due to the season. I can't make him better because I carry the insurance. If I stay with him because 'he loves me' doesn't mean it will make him love himself. I don't know. I've owned a lot, taken responsibility for more than I should, justified the unjustifiable, made poor decisions because they were easier to make than good ones, allowed BS to continue because it was easier than standing up for myself...yadda yadda. Many of us have done the same, and some of us are in the process of beginning the process.

I am going to begin by opening a new checking account on Monday. One in only my name...another thing my husband has been dishonest about is our finances. The direct deposit from my new job will go into my personal account. I will transfer funds as they are needed to pay bills. This will make him angry, but it is my first step toward self-preservation...or perhaps it's my second. I think my first is realizing I can't change someone who doesn't want to change, no matter how hard I try. The next, is mustering the will to become a positive person after many years of negativity. This may be the hardest. I come from a long line of alcohol and drug abuse, and I've surrounded myself with it because it's what I know. Stepping outside of my extremely uncomfortable comfort zone is going to be one of the biggest things I've ever done. Saying "this isn't my fault" to the things that REALLY aren't my fault is a foreign land I'm completely mortified to explore.

I hope to receive help on my journey. Whether my husband and I stay together, I hope through sharing my experiences and reading yours, I will persevere...that WE will persevere. Reaching out is difficult, and while I should work myself up to meeting face-to-face with others in my position, I have made a step. I need help and I want to give help. I wish to provide the same support for which I ask. Thank you for reading...it's appreciated.