The haunting question, “How did I end up here?” reverberated through my mind relentlessly. It was a question that haunted my every waking moment as I watched my husband’s life spiral out of control due to his battle with alcoholism.

Despite trying every method, from quitting cold turkey to attending AA meetings, nothing seemed to shake his addiction’s iron grip.

Our once-strong marriage was crumbling before our eyes, all thanks to his relentless drinking.

I remember a fateful Easter brunch with our family, a day meant for joy and celebration. Instead, I watched my husband, an active-duty recruiter, drowning his sorrows in shots.

I couldn’t help but wonder, “Why? Why would you want to erase beautiful moments with your wife and son from your memory?”

Little did I know, this was just the tip of the iceberg in a battle that had plagued us since 2020.

My husband’s daily consumption of at least 12 drinks, even while working from home, had become our harsh reality.

“I’ll stop when the baby is born,” he promised.

But September came and went, and he even suggested bringing alcohol into the hospital room before our first child’s arrival. It was then that I realized the gravity of our problem.

“I’ll stop when your schedule gets less hectic,” he assured me.

So, I made the difficult choice to quit my job and find one with more manageable hours.

Yet, despite my sacrifices, nothing changed.

“If I had a nickel for every time I heard ‘I’ll stop when….” I thought bitterly. “I’d be wealthy beyond measure.”

My husband’s physical presence remained, but he was no longer “here.” I took on the role of a single mom, juggling cooking, cleaning, shopping, drop-offs, and pick-ups while maintaining a full-time job.

The physical and mental toll was overwhelming, and there were moments when I felt like I was drowning.

My greatest fear was leaving my child alone with my husband, unsure what would happen if he had too many drinks.

Our journey through this nightmare was uniquely intertwined with the demands of military life, with recruiting adding an extra layer of stress.

The relentless pressure to meet enlistment quotas cast a dark shadow over my husband’s well-being.

I witnessed the toll it took on him as he faced threats from his command, jeopardizing his job and family time if he didn’t deliver enlistments.

Countless hours invested in recruits often ended in failure over trivial reasons like a failed test, a tattoo, or undisclosed medication.

It took a dear friend’s tough love to make me realize that I had to act.

Thanks to a referral from Hope For The Warriors, I secured a spot for my husband at Warrior’s Heart, an addiction treatment facility in Texas.

The initial call to arrange a referral was gut-wrenching, but the words of the kind woman on the other end, Eunice, provided the validation I desperately needed.

“It’s in God’s hands. You’re protecting your family,” she reassured me,

Those words became my lifeline.

His journey to recovery unfolded rapidly, and within a week, he was on a plane to begin his 45-day program.

My heart ached every night as I heard our son crying out for his absent father. Anxiety gnawed at me as I wondered, “What if this doesn’t work?”

There were moments when he landed in the hospital due to complications from his alcoholism, and the fear of losing him gripped me like a vice.

Our daily Facetime conversations during his treatment unveiled a transformation. In just one week, he appeared physically healthier, engaged in meaningful conversations, and expressed genuine remorse for his past actions.

“Cautious optimism” became my mantra as hope slowly returned to my life.

On September 4 at 1 a.m., my husband returned home, and we stayed up most of the night talking.

“I’ll just have to show you,” he kept saying.

Though it’s only been a short time since his return, he is a changed man. I watched with tears as he and our son played “hide and seek” for an hour, cherishing the laughter and joy that had long been absent from our lives.

My husband was back, and now, he would remember these precious moments, too.

I hesitated to share our story, but I knew it was essential. I wanted other military spouses to understand they are not alone in their struggles.

Trust your instincts and take a stand when necessary because you know what’s best for you and your family.

Our journey to recovery is far from over, but armed with the tools to move forward together, we are proof that it’s possible. All you have to do is ask for help.

Our story is one of resilience, love, and the power of seeking help when it’s needed most. In the depths of addiction, we found a glimmer of hope, and now, we are on the path to healing and redemption.

If you’re facing a similar battle, remember that you are not alone, and there is a way out. Reach out, seek support, and never underestimate the strength of love and determination to overcome even the darkest challenges.

*Learn more about programs to help at  Hope For The Warriors. 

*Editor’s Note: The Content Team at Mission:Milspouse is grateful for this story and the courage of the author. We know this was not easy to share, and we are inspired by the hope it conveys to other families struggling with addition.