Christmas 2005. My (then) DP had invited her sister, BIL, and their three teenage children to stay with us and our two DCs in our small 3 bed house for a week or so. DP had been drunk for the best part of a month and her drinking was accelerating fast but she knew I'd not say anything about it in front of her family.
On Christmas Day, DP was still pissed as knickers from the previous night's heavy drinking and claimed to be sorting out lunch while, really, she was staggering around the kitchen getting stuck into the champagne while her sister did all the cooking.
We then all squeezed into the front room for exchanging of presents. I had bought presents for our DCs and for my DP (as stuff for my family). DP was organising some more presents for our DCs plus sorting out her family.
Just as the presents were starting to be handed out, DP suddenly revealed "I haven't got anybody anything." And then laughed.
Boy, was that an awkward silence.
It went downhill from there. On Boxing Day she told me she'd taken an overdose the previous night but flat-out refused to go to hospital. That night I lay awake all night checking on her breathing. The following night I fell asleep through sheer exhaustion but had every expectation of waking up next to a corpse. (In retrospect I don't think she had taken an overdose, it was more that I had been asking her WTF she thought she was playing at with all the drinking and she needed to create a diversion).
By about the 29th, DP spent all day in bed with a bottle of vodka and some cans of strong cider. I remember looking at her and thinking that the only difference between her and a drunken tramp in the street is that I was paying for a roof over her head.
I vowed to myself that no matter what, I'd never have another Christmas like that. And after kicking her sorry drunken arse out, I never have.