The reality of alcoholism

There were a couple of comments on my last post that I feel compelled to respond to. Before I start, I want to say that I'm not angry or being judgy and I'm hoping this doesn't come across that way. I just want to explain my perspective of the situation, which comes from the sober half of an alcoholic marriage.

One of the comments made suggested that I need to talk to Jerry and do something about stopping his drinking and/or stopping him from driving while drunk. God bless this woman, but it seems clear from her comment that she's never had to deal with an alcoholic (either that, or her alcoholic was very, very different from mine. I don't know her story).

Alcoholism is a disease of denial. This is a truth that I have been working very hard to accept. No matter how much evidence you put in front of an actively drinking alcoholic, he either doesn't see how bad things are or rationalizes the proof away. The more the sober person tries to prove that the drunk is a drunk, the more irrational the sober person's behavior becomes, and the crazier the sober person looks. In the end, the sober person ends up looking like the "bad guy" to the alcoholic, and sometimes to the world.

Over the years, I've talked to Jerry about his drinking dozens of times. Prior to my second (mega big surprise) pregnancy, his drinking wasn't nearly as bad as it is now, and he actually listened and responded to my complaints. He would cut back on his drinking for a while, and even quit on occasion (I think the longest he was sober was 10 days), but he would always revert back to drinking like he did before our conversations. After my pregnancy with B, he gets mad if anyone implies he has a drinking problem (I like to think this is because he knows it's true, but who knows). I've talked to him, and it just pissed him off. Our marriage counselor talked to him, and it just pissed him off.

I've also tried to show J just how much he's drinking. I've kept track of beers drank in an evening, a day, and a week. I've shown him how much he's spending on beer. I've told him about things he's done while drinking that he probably doesn't remember. None of it makes a difference. I don't know what goes on in his head, but I guess that he somehow convinces himself that I'm lying, or exaggerating, or misreading, or something. My "proving" his alcoholism also leads him to try to hide his drinking. He'll throw cans in the trash under other things instead of putting them in the recycling bin. He's hidden cans in a storage room. He tries to cover the sound of a can popping open. He mostly drinks in the garage, and will have a couple of beers before walking in the door when he gets home.

Part of the problem in an alcoholic relationship is that the sober one obsesses about the alcoholic's drinking, and does whatever she can to control it. But the thing is, you can't control another person's behavior, whether that person is an alcoholic or not. A part of my own healing since I had my big crisis period last June has been working on my half of this alcoholic marriage. A big part of that healing includes letting go of the illusion that I can control Jerry's drinking. I can't. I can't control his drinking any more than I can control how the guy in the next lane over drives, or how the cashier at the store rings up my groceries. I can respond to it, but I can't control it. The only thing I can control is me. This is a hard, hard truth to live. Controlling J's drinking and making it go away would make my life a billion times easier. I would do it in a heartbeat if I could. But I've tried in the past, and it's only made things worse. So I continue to try to let go of that illusion of control and focus on my responses. It doesn't work most some of the time, but I keep trying.

Another commenter suggested that I anonymously report J to the cops the next time he's out driving drunk. While this would probably be the noble thing to do, I just can't do it. Doing so would bring a slew of unwanted consequences into my life. While it is Jerry's behavior that would get him into trouble and theoretically Jerry who would suffer the consequences of his actions, I would end up suffering the consequences at least as much as he. I'll be the one responsible for making sure he gets to work every day, even though his hours and locations are far from compatible with mine. And that's assuming he doesn't lose his job because of a DUI. I'll be the one at least partially responsible (fully responsible, if he loses his job) for paying the attorney fees, court costs, fines, increased insurance premiums, and everything else that comes with a DUI. I'll be the one who has to go bail him out of jail. And after all of this, there's no guarantee that he'll open his eyes to his drinking problem. These costs are nothing compared to the costs to another driver's family, if Jerry were to hit and kill someone, but these are real, concrete consequences that will directly affect me and that I don't need or want to deal with. Is this line of thinking selfish? Probably. But sometimes you need to take care of and protect yourself.

And guilt. "Letting" him get in his car after he's been drinking makes me feel guilty. I know if he hurt someone while driving drunk, I would feel guilty for not stopping him (ignoring that I cannot, in fact, control him or stop him from doing anything). Not accepting guilt for Jerry's problems is something that I've been working on in counseling for a long time. I'm not the one who is drinking. I'm not the one who is wasting money the family needs on alcohol. I'm not the one putting others at risk when I get in the car. And I'm not the cause of his drinking. But I feel guilty for all of these things anyway. Particularly about the upswing in his drinking since I got pregnant with B. The pregnancy was unexpected and an extra strain on top of a difficult first baby. I suffered horrid prenatal depression that continued well into the post-partum period. My mental health deteriorated to a scary point, and I was fairly worthless around the house and in the childcare department. As all of these things were going on with me, his drinking continued to get worse. In my mind, that created a pretty concrete cause-and-effect. As I got sicker, he drank more. Therefore, me being unwell was the direct cause of his increased alcohol intake. While I'm sure the stress of dealing with his wife's mental illness was one of the factors in his continued and increased drinking, I know it wasn't the only one. And even if it was, I didn't get sick on purpose, I didn't stay sick on purpose, and I didn't make everyone's life more difficult on purpose. I know all of this in my head, but accepting it in my heart is difficult.

The things I have to keep reminding myself of are "I didn't cause it, I can't control it, and I can't cure it," and "the consequences are his to suffer." When I get angry at J for his drinking, or am having a difficult time remembering that alcoholism is a disease and he's very sick, I like to think of alcoholism as akin to heart disease. If J had heart disease that he knew about, but chose to deny the existence of and not to treat, would my anger or nagging or bitching or reminding him of the consequences of not treating it do anything to change his mind and make him seek treatment? Not likely. Would you respond well to someone harassing you about a health problem you don't want or aren't ready to deal with? Not likely. It's the same with alcoholism. I know it's hard for people to think of alcoholism in this way because it looks like a choice. But J's brain chemistry is so messed up that drinking isn't a choice for him any more. It's a compulsion that he obviously doesn't have control over. I try to remember and try to treat him accordingly, but it's so, so hard. So hard.

So. There are my responses to my commenters. Thank you, Mary Kate and Anon., for bringing up these points. It was cathartic for me to get some of this out. I hope I addressed everything respectfully. I did my best. And I hope that this gave all of my readers a little bit more perspective on what it's like to be married to an alcoholic.