This is an experience account that has undergone de-identification, risk screening, and language editing; the original author's identity, region, or identifiable details are not retained in the text.
At first it was just social drinking, later it became drinking every day
He wasn't like this before. In the first few years of our marriage, he only had a few drinks at work social events, came home and fell straight asleep, and went to work the next day as usual. I never thought drinking was a problem; I even considered it part of male socializing.
But slowly, things changed. He started drinking at home too. At first it was one bottle of beer with dinner, then it became two, and later he switched to baijiu (Chinese liquor). He said "I can't sleep without a drink" and "work stress is too much." I believed him. But eventually, the first thing he did in the morning was look for a drink. His hands would shake, and only after a few sips would he steady himself. That was when I realized something was wrong.
I tried to talk to him, but he always said "I can control it" and "it's just to relieve fatigue." But I knew he couldn't control it—because he had promised countless times to "stop drinking starting tomorrow," yet the next day he was the same as before. He hid alcohol—in the car trunk, in the wardrobe, in his office drawer. I found several bottles.
The hardest part was not knowing when it would happen next
During that period, our home was like a buried time bomb. I didn't know when he would drink too much or what he would become like when drunk. He usually spoke little, but after drinking, his temper became very volatile. He would throw things at the slightest provocation and curse under his breath. Our child was so scared he would hide in his room and not dare come out. I didn't dare argue with him either, afraid of provoking him.
Once, he came home drunk, his face pale, drenched in cold sweat, muttering "there are things crawling on me." I was terrified and called the emergency number. The doctor later said that was a withdrawal reaction—the body "protesting." After that incident, he was hospitalized for a week. The doctor said his liver function was already damaged, and he also had alcoholic peripheral neuropathy; his hands and feet often went numb.
But less than a month after discharge, he started drinking again. He said "it's too unbearable; not drinking is even more unbearable." At that point I was truly in despair and felt this would be our life forever.
He lost his job, and the family nearly fell apart
He originally worked in sales at a company and had consistently good performance. But later, because of drinking, he was late, took unauthorized absences, and said the wrong things to clients. His supervisor talked to him several times. In the end, the company let him go. After losing his job, he stayed home drinking all day and his temper got worse. The family savings were gradually drunk away by him. My salary alone had to support our child, pay the mortgage, and cover his medical expenses—it simply wasn't enough.
During that time, I argued with him, cried, begged, and even threatened divorce. But every time he was sober, he would say "I'm sorry" with red eyes, saying "I want to quit, but I can't do it." His helpless look made me feel both heartbroken and angry. I knew he wasn't unwilling to get better; he was truly trapped by alcohol.
Once, after drinking too much, he showed danger signs that required immediate help—he was breathing rapidly, his eyes were unfocused, and he didn't respond no matter how we called him. I called emergency services. The doctor said if he kept going like this, he might not even survive. That time, I finally understood completely: this wasn't "being unable to control oneself"—it was an illness that needed professional treatment.
Only when the family faces it together can we see a glimmer of light
Later, on the doctor's recommendation, we began systematic treatment. He was hospitalized for a period, using medication to help get through the withdrawal phase smoothly, while also undergoing psychological therapy. The doctor also asked me and our child to participate in family psychotherapy. At first I thought, "It's not me who drinks, so why should I go?" But after going, I learned that family interaction patterns have a major influence on a person's drinking behavior.
The therapist had our whole family sit together and talk about each other's feelings. For the first time, I heard our child say, "When Daddy drinks, I'm very scared, but I didn't know who to tell." He cried too, saying he actually felt very guilty, but the more guilty he felt, the more he wanted to drink, and the more he drank, the guiltier he felt—it was a vicious cycle. The therapist taught us how to communicate and how to support him when he wanted to drink, instead of blaming him.
Now he is still on the road to recovery. He hasn't been "completely cured," but it's been a long time since any danger signs appeared. He joined an alcohol abstinence mutual help group and goes once a week. When he comes back, he tells me, "Today I heard someone's story, and it's very similar to mine." I also joined a family member support group and learned that so many families are going through the same thing as us. That feeling of "I am not alone" matters more than anything.
This road is hard, but at least our family is walking it together. If your family has a similar situation, don't carry it alone. This is no one's fault. It is an illness that requires professional help and also requires the family to work hard together.
Alcohol dependence is a disease, not a weakness of willpower; the family needs to face it together to find a way out.