Olivia's blog: Living with Addiction

I’ve been married to the man I love for 15 years. He’s a kind man, a fun man, a good man. He’s also an alcoholic.

For many years I have known that he drinks in secret. I’ve watched the bottles and the glasses. Seen his moods shift. Sometimes happy, often angry, antagonistic. Always uncertain.

I tried to talk to him. Its breaking me, I said. The lying and the hidden drinks. Please just drink honestly, openly and in moderation. Is that too much to ask?

For an addict, yes, it is. I know this now.

We have so many good times, I thought, such a good life. If I can just manage the difficult times, protect the children, steady the ship. It’s worth it for the good times, I told myself.

But I wasn’t happy. I couldn’t sleep; I lay awake night after night with my heart racing. Scenario planning, conversation rehearsing, turning it over and over in my head. Trying to figure it out. I must be overreacting. Surely. Is it me? If I could just stop noticing everything; then I could keep going. I need to be stronger.

But it wasn’t fine. I wasn’t fine. And being stronger wasn’t about keeping going, it was about stopping. Taking a stand. Making a choice. Saying no. So I did.

And so he decided to stop drinking, completely. And seeked some professional help to do so. Two monumental steps forward.

Followed by so many steps backwards.

Addiction is powerful, and scary. The cycle never ends. It wins more often than it loses. It lies more than it tells the truth. Hurts more than it heals. But I’m still here, hoping. Just.

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• Wellbeing