Increments – I had to leave.

in•cre•ment

Pronunciation: \ in-kruh-muh nt \
Function: noun
Etymology: Latin incrēmentum an increase
Date: 1375–1425


1. something added or gained; addition; increase.
2. profit; gain.
3. the act or process of increasing; growth.
4. an amount by which something increases or grows
5. one of a series of regular additions

What I remember most about Monday and Tuesday is that I felt tattered and more frightened that I had ever been, for him and for myself. I would stay as long as he had a plan but I was free falling – no parachute – no net. I had the presence of mind to call people from Al – Anon. I went to meetings morning, afternoon and night. I prayed. I cried. I listened.

He slept, with the aid of Benadryl, through most of those two days. He got the shakes. He had a headache that wouldn’t go away. He didn’t eat much that I remember. But we talked. He said he had lied to his sponsor and to me. He had begun drinking last summer. Just a glass of wine or a beer – never at home – always in control. Then one day he bought beer and brought it home. It didn’t erase the pain and fear. The next night it was vodka. He lost the fantasy. He had to ask himself “Do I really believe I am an alcoholic?”

He would tell me stories of his childhood – awful, brutal, cruel stories. He talked of what was gone and what he now stood to lose. He would seek reassurance that I still loved him, that I wasn’t repulsed by who he was, what he was doing. This was his story and I was his witness.

Wednesday he asked if he should tell the people at work. He feared the consequences, the loss of his job, but more than that the loss of the respect. AA and all 12-step programs demand “rigorous honesty.” All I could do was share my experience, strength and hope. I simply said that without honesty I would remain “as sick as my secrets.”

He went to the directors, and they gave him two weeks off of work with pay. They were gracious and he was touched at their caring and support. Then he pulled a bottle of vodka out of a bag and said that the doc had recommended that he “taper off” and not go cold turkey. He said she was concerned over his shakes and heart palpitations.

Sick attracts sick and I did not challenge him. I just thought that the doc must be one of the most incompetent physicians in the world. He’d already been sober for two days. If something was going to go wrong it would have already happened. I believed him.

He once again woke in the middle of the night. He woke me and simply said “You know alcoholics lie.” I said yes. The doc had not told him to taper off. In fact she had barely spoken with him. It’s hard to describe the relief I felt. In fact my response was literally to say out loud “Thank God!” It shocked him. I truly liked and respected his boss –the doc – and I was glad to hear she wasn’t crazy.

I no longer remember the rest of what we talked about. More reassurances, more stories, but he was going to drink. I had to say, then, I must go.

At dawn I wavered. I told him I loved him. He held me. If he had asked me to stay, I am not sure I would have been able to say no. But he didn’t. In fact, he told me he loved me and said “you have to go.” And I did. It would be the last time I would see him alive.