My DH is an alcoholic and in the midst of of a relapse after 4 and a half years of sobriety. I am now the evil, nagging wife (according to his parents) because I'm not pussyfooting around him congratulating him on telling us that he is drinking again. If one more person tells me that he has done a really positive thing in telling me, I will cry. Again.
Since he told me on Thursday I have been in crisis management mode. I have dispensed sugary drinks, cooked wholesome and appetizing meals and sorted out the shit. I have smiled and played with the children and generally kept the show on the road. The only thing I didn't do is a school governor's meeting and attend a meeting yesterday morning, but I did put up with a load of shit from the organisers.
His parents blame me, once again, because clearly I poured the sodding drink down his throat. They have told me not to nag him today. I am fucking incandescent with rage. How BLOODY dare they.
I have rung the Samaritans, who have established that I am not going to do anything to harm myself and I am now in bed waiting for sleep so that I am in a fit state to look after the children tomorrow. My husband is at his parents, where they will dispense alcohol to him if he displays the slightest shake, even though he has told me that he does not need to detox. I have, they said, forced him to stop to quickly.
I want to leave him, I think. At least I want a relationship with a man that doesn't get depressed and have a drink.