This is an experience record that has been de-identified, risk-screened, and language-edited; no identifying information about the original author, location, or recognizable details is retained.
The hardest part is not knowing when the next episode will happen
I was once a true alcohol-dependent person. At my peak, I drank two jin (about 1 kg) of baijiu a day, starting from early morning with every meal. When my blood alcohol level dropped, I would feel restless and agitated, at a loss, unable to do anything—until the baijiu kicked in and I felt better immediately. You can imagine what family life is like for someone dependent on alcohol: chaos every day, small fights daily, big blowouts every few days. A perfectly good family was on the verge of collapse. My wife cried almost every day, even threatening suicide, and my child lived in constant fear and anxiety.
As a partner, I lived in a state of unresolved dread every day. I never knew when he would drink, when the next outburst would happen, or how much longer his body could hold out. It felt like a sword hanging over my head, ready to fall at any moment.
His body collapsed, and the family was falling apart
Naturally, his health deteriorated steadily. He staggered when walking, swaying as if treading on cotton. The liver area under his right ribs ached terribly, and he could only get some relief by pressing his fist against it while sleeping, drifting off in a hazy drunken stupor. At the time, my still-living mother-in-law practiced some kind of qigong and invited several so-called masters who claimed they could predict karmic outcomes. Their verdict was that he would live to 42—but he was only 40 then!
Amid endless anxiety and quarreling, my wife's health also declined. She had been a swimmer, but suddenly began having fainting episodes. Each time, she would cry, foam at the mouth, and lose consciousness—it truly scared the drinking out of me. Hospital tests revealed insufficient cerebral blood supply and myocardial ischemia. She was prescribed some medication, but it wasn't very effective, and the episodes kept recurring. Watching my ailing wife and young child, I felt a pang of sorrow, but I still resolutely picked up the glass.
One medical visit became the turning point
Then one day, I took my wife to see a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner recommended by a friend. I never expected what happened next! From that day on, I embarked on a long road to sobriety... He was the fifth-generation heir of a TCM family. One wall was covered with photos or portraits of five generations of his ancestors, and another with photos of him and several senior leaders. He was also a health physician to central leaders, traveling to Beijing every month. Even years later, I still consider him a master. After I entered, mentioned my friend's name, and sat down, the doctor looked at me and my wife and said bluntly: "You're about to die! If you keep drinking, you'll be drinking the liquor of your next life! Your wife's problem is minor—let's treat you today." After taking my pulse, he accurately described nearly all my symptoms without missing a single one.
With the remaining few dozen yuan in my pocket, I still unhesitatingly took my wife into a nearby small tavern, ordered two bowls of wonton soup and a small cup of liquor, and started drinking. Somehow, one of the doctor's words struck a nerve, and I began to think deeply. Imagining the possible misery of my wife and child, I even squeezed out a few tears. Perhaps it was the doctor's wake-up call, or perhaps it was the embers of a conscience that had never fully died. At that moment, I made up my mind: quit drinking!
She bore the agony of withdrawal with me
The psychological and physical torment of early withdrawal was unimaginable, but at least I had the medication to keep me going—I couldn't give up halfway, or the money would have been wasted! That conviction alone carried me through the hardest two weeks while taking the medicine. But the cost of the medication was a huge problem. Private hospitals weren't covered by insurance, and 2,000 yuan a month was nearly an impossible burden for a family that had been drained dry by drinking. A comrade of mine was also a heavy drinker—not as fierce as me, of course—but he had various physical complaints, so I referred him to see the doctor. He spent over 900 yuan, and it happened that he had a friend working at a pharmacy, so he brought the prescription there. His friend itemized and priced it, then gave an unbelievable figure: one dose came to 4.6 yuan. This was in 1999, and I remember it clearly. Heaven never seals off all exits! I resolved to save myself. So I began studying traditional Chinese medicine and herbal remedies, embarking on a path of self-redemption!
I have to admire my wife. While supporting me unwaveringly, she also led by example—whatever herbal decoction I brewed, she would drink it with me without hesitation. At the same time, her health kept improving, and the fainting episodes haven't recurred for years. She never complained, never tried to stop my experiments, just quietly stayed by my side, drinking those strange-tasting medicinal soups. I know she was telling me in her own way: as long as you're trying, I won't give up.
Stepping out of the shadows, seeing spring
One early spring morning, walking to work, I suddenly felt the tender buds on the roadside trees were so dear, the spring breeze so warm and pleasant, and my whole body brimming with vitality—I was so joyful I even wanted to sing! Those who have recovered from a serious illness might understand: the joy of recovery is beyond words. At that moment, I knew I had made it out.
Looking back on those days, as a partner, I learned to hold my own boundaries amid worry and exhaustion. I couldn't drink for him, and I couldn't quit for him, but I could walk alongside him. The road is long, but as long as someone is willing to walk it together, there will always be light ahead.
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Companionship is not sacrifice, but holding your own boundaries without giving up.