It is a late Saturday night and like my normal routine I am sufficiently buzzed. The days typical mandatory duties for an involved father included coaching at two youth basketball games for both of my sons and shoveling snow off of our driveway. All of that took place before I started drinking. After all, I do care about my family more than anything so I always take care of them before I get started with my routine.

4pm rolls around sooner than you would normally think. I head to the garage where I hide my booze. I poor a stiff drink of Dewars scotch, aged 36 months! Why do they go through the trouble of saying 36 months instead of 3 years, that kind of stuff always bothered me. Obviously not enough for me not to buy it and poor it down the hatch night after night.

After three or four trips to the garage and about 4 beers all of a sudden its 9:30 pm. All of my beautiful kids are in bed sleeping. 10 minutes after tucking them in bed my wife comes into the living room with an empty vodka bottle in hand. I recognize this bottle, its the same 1.75 L bottle I bought for our new years party where hardly anyone drank it, which was ok with me because I immediately took it to my garage sanctuary so I could finish it off. A week and a half later it was nearly gone.

I had not finished it though, I took it down to maybe 2 inches left and then it disappeared after one of my work trips. Seeing it empty means that she must have finished it off. That is ok with me because she drinks too, less than I do, but she still drinks.

Her showing up in the living room with it empty was a surprise though. This is very bold of her. She does hardly anything bold. I wish I had more bold from her.

Her first words are saying that she thinks I am an alcoholic. I say no shit, I told you that 2 years ago (when I first told her she denied it). I inform her that I am working on it. –for the last 6 months I have been trying to control my drinking. I have been in touch with an unofficial sponsor and all. 

A little more history here, about a month ago I moved into the downstairs guest bedroom. We can get into that later. For this story, its only important that I am downstairs.

At the end of our alcoholic discussion she mentions that me sleeping downstairs isn’t helping anything. I respond that its helping me to adjust to life without sex. She is taken back by this and almost speechless. From that response she knows that I am serious and decides to end the discussion and head back to our bedroom.

During our discussion my drunkenness comes up and I obviously say that I am not drunk like always.

At the end of our discussions I head down to my room and she goes back hers. I sleep alone and reflect on what she said. It does hit me hard I must admit that she confronted me like that. It felt good to get confronted. After this I leave town for work for about a week.

This conversation gives me new hope of who I can be. I know there is a version of me out there that is just normal.