Who does the counselor call when the counselor needs help?

I have...or maybe it's had...a boyfriend.  I will call him Dean.  I knew him 2 years before he moved in over a year ago.  He was one of my best friends.  Listened.  Helped.  Made me laugh.  Supported me in all my struggles.   He knew I had 2 children and that both children were special needs.  He knew my past.  He moved in knowing that I had a rough divorce and another old relationship where my partner abused alcohol and vicodin badly and would not tolerate such. He stated...actually promised...that was not an issue.  He was emotionally available.  I believed we would have a good life, supportive, fun, loving.  He was such a good friend and I felt a connection to him like no other.

Little did I know at the time that Dean had a serious problem with alcohol.  And, I'm not talking a 2-shot a night or a case a weekend problem.  I am talking a 2 ltr + bottle of Black Velvet per week problem which would become evident within 2 months of him moving in.

2011 passed with many arguments, passive-aggressive verbal attacks, somewhat violent episodes where he threw his phone, his computer that dented my steel door and lots of slamming doors.  He passed out in the garage.  He passed out in the bathroom.  He passed out on the living room floor so my daughter's friend could not come over.  He became increasingly paranoid, feeling people were watching him and his rights were being violated.

I started to doubt myself  and my judgment after experiencing what I saw as gaslighting--when someone makes a request of you but refuses to give you or takes away tools to accomplish their request.  Also, double-binds--damned if you do, damned if you don't, no win situations.  I doubted my own sanity.  He had said this was in my head...maybe he was right?   He said he used alcohol to cope, relax, slow his mind down.  That HIS alcohol issue was OUR issue and he drank because of what I brought into the relationship.  Well...maybe this was right.  Maybe it was my fault..no...wait...he drank before he even came here.  I found out he should have had 3 DUIs.  One is on record.  The others were manipulated by an attorney.  No...this was a problem long before I came into the picture.

Finally, in January of 2012,  I had him removed from my home after he got angry that I had the kids walk to school.  He had stayed awake to take them.  When they came back because they forgot something, he took them to school and came back angry that he had to take them to school and called me many names. Talk about crazy making!  I left and stayed in the coffee shop parking lot for hours because I couldn't go home due to his passive-aggressive attacks.  I didn't want the kids to come home walking into an unpredictable environment.  He had to go.  Law enforcement was called. Numerous text messages were sent.  When he picked up his stuff, LEO did a civil standby...bless their souls.  He wreaked of alcohol and they gave him a blow test.  BAC was enough to charge him with a DWAI.  They gave him a warning.

The end?  Not even close.

He was sober for 6 weeks after that and things were going well.  Maybe this was what we needed.  Space.  Time.  Therapy.  Then he started drinking again even more heavily than before.  It finally culminated in a 3-day binge-rant with suicidal expressions, threats to others, a voluntary hospitalization for detox. Suddenly, I was thrust into the role of clinician with a duty to warn my own boss and a client's family member all at once.  Awkwardness reigned all over in my dealings with my organization, a hospital that I sent people to, and even our local hospital.  Everyone was confused about how to manage this situation.  I was written up at work and my job was on the line because of what I brought into the organization even though I had told other agencies over and over, I was family...and this was NOT work related.  Afterall, there was no  protocol for when the crisis counselor is in a crisis.

Upon discharge, Dean made arrangements for help with a new therapist and a psychiatrist appointment for new medications.  I told him that I would never go through that again.  If he drank, I would be done.  He acknowledged the sacrifices, my position.  We had one terrific, perfect week that I will cherish forever.  I can honestly say I thought he was a new man.  Understanding.  Warm.  Loving.  Attentive.  One perfect week.  In the last year, I can count good weeks on my hands and have fingers leftover so this one is particularly special.  We had one week of normalcy, friendship, fun, closeness.  We celebrated Easter together.  We went fishing.  He was good with the kids. If only this could continue!  One perfect week out of so many horrible weeks.  Maybe this was it.  Maybe I would get my happily ever after.

The end?  Nope!

One week later, he's drinking again.  I have sacrificed time with my kids, been compromised at work and nearly lost my job.  I have lost a friend because she had to hospitalize him.  I sacrificed my values/beliefs.  I have suffered financially and am still trying to dig my way out of the hole.

No more.  This will never change.  This is not worth what I have risked and lost.   This is not worth the tears, the heartache, the time lost that I can't get back. A situation only changes when one makes a change.  Beginning today, I made a change to end it.

Jeremy Camp wrote in his song, "There Will be A Day,"

There will be a day with no more tears
No more pain, and no more fears
There will be a day when the burdens of this place
Will be no more, we'll see Jesus face to face
But until that day, we'll hold on to you always

I know the journey seems so long
You feel you're walking on your own
But there has never been a step
Where you've walked out all alone

The end?  Yes!