This is an experience record that has been de-identified, risk-screened, and language-edited; the original author's identity, geographic location, or identifiable details are not retained in the text.
At first I thought it was just social drinking; later I realized he had developed a habit
At first, he only had a few drinks in the evening, saying work was stressful and he needed to unwind. I didn't think much of it—I figured it was normal for a man to drink occasionally. But gradually, I noticed his drinking pattern had changed. Before, he could stop after drinking; now, once he opened a bottle, he couldn't hold back and would drink until the bottle was empty. He started finding all kinds of excuses to drink—tired today, off tomorrow, a friend called, even bad weather. His tolerance also grew. Before, two glasses would make his face flush; later, half a jin (250g) of liquor had no visible effect on him.
I urged him to stop several times, and he always said, "I know what I'm doing." But deep down, I knew things weren't that simple. His drinking became more and more frequent, going from two or three times a week to almost every day. What worried me most was that the first thing he did in the morning was look for a drink. When I asked him why, he said, "If I don't have a sip, my hands shake so badly I can't work." That was when I realized this might not be a habit—it was a problem.
The hardest part is not knowing when the next episode will happen
His drinking pattern became increasingly fixed: a little in the morning to steady himself, a top-up at noon, and then fully letting loose at night. On days when he didn't drink enough, he became a different person—irritable, restless, finding fault with everything, and losing his temper at the slightest thing. I tried not to argue with him, but with a young child at home, someone had to hold things together. Sometimes he would drink too much and pass out, and I would clean up while crying.
What scared me most was that he knew drinking was harming his health, yet he couldn't control it. Once, his liver function tests came back abnormal during a checkup, and the doctor told him to stop drinking. He agreed on the spot, but after two days at home, he started again. On the third day, he told me, "I tried, but I can't. My whole body feels awful, like ants crawling all over me." Watching him suffer, I felt both heartbroken and angry. I never knew when he would lose control again, and that uncertainty kept the whole family on edge.
The withdrawal reaction caught us more off guard than I imagined
Once, he went on a business trip and went a whole day without drinking. When he came back that evening, I saw his face was pale and his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't even get the key into the lock. He said he felt his heart racing, was sweating, nauseous, and extremely anxious. I helped him inside, and he curled up in a ball on the bed, saying, "I feel like I'm dying." I was terrified and wanted to call an ambulance, but he stopped me and said, "Just one sip and I'll be fine." I hesitated, but still poured him half a glass. After he drank it, he recovered within ten minutes or so.
It was only after that that I seriously looked into it and learned that suddenly stopping alcohol can trigger a series of physical reactions—tremors, sweating, emotional instability. He told me that every time he tried to quit, the craving was like a voice in his head urging him on, and if he didn't drink, he couldn't sit still. That was when I understood that this wasn't a lack of willpower—his body had already developed a dependence. But that experience also made me realize that stopping drinking abruptly carries risks and requires professional guidance.
Home became a battlefield, but also the last line of defense
His alcohol addiction didn't just affect him—it dragged the whole family into a vortex. My child asked, "Why does Dad always drink?" and I didn't know how to answer. My own sleep and emotions also suffered; I often woke up in the middle of the night, afraid something had happened to him from drinking too much. We argued, fought, and gave each other the cold shoulder, but in the end, we found that arguing alone couldn't solve the problem.
Later, I tried a different approach: instead of blaming him, I accompanied him in facing it. I researched information with him and learned what alcohol dependence really is. We came to understand that this is not a "bad habit" but a psychological and physiological condition related to genes and heredity. We also learned that quitting drinking isn't about toughing it out—it requires scientific methods. I went with him to consult relevant medical institutions. Although the process wasn't easy, at least we were no longer fighting alone.
He is still working on it now, and I am learning to adjust myself as well. This road is long, but compared to those days of constant anxiety, at least we now have a direction. If someone in your family is in a similar situation, I want to say: don't carry it alone—family support and professional help are equally important.
Alcohol dependence is not a willpower issue but a disease that requires a scientific approach, and family members also need support.