I was the same as all alcoholics. The poster child. The Proto-drunk. Maybe I drank more than other folks, but I wasn't addicted. Not me. My wife was convinced, but what did she know? She didn't understand how hard my life was. She didn't know how much alcohol helped me unwind at the end of the day. She didn't need my help with our daughter, she needed me to drink so I could be in a good mood for her. Then...I almost lost every bit of it in one night. I sat in a parking lot the next day understanding why she would want to leave. I was out of options...so, I just let go and asked for help. I didn't know what help I needed, who was listening, what would happen. I just knew that everything I thought I had figured out wasn't working. I got the help I needed. Outpatient therapy, support groups, counseling, friends, and family. It finally hurt bad enough and for long enough. That was two years and 8 months ago today. I know I'll never have it "whipped"...but it's easier to get up in the morning and face life on life's terms without alcohol. I don't have to control everything. I only have to be the best me I can be today. I didn't end up losing my wife or my daughter. I should have, but I didn't. I ended up getting to come back and experience my happiness with them. I'm in love again and it's all their fault...and I think that's blame they should be proud to accept.