The Ominous Grunt

I slept pretty late for me, 9 AM.  It was nice.  I didn't wake up with a headache, either. 

Ron was pretty good at first.  He was pleasant and we had some good conversation when he woke up.  But he was asleep when I took my shower and did my God Time, which is good because he likes to give me a hard time over it. 

He woke up about the time I decided to take a nap, and made some noise while I was trying to sleep.  I think it's just because he was drinking and banging around. 

By the time I got up, he had gone to take a nap.  I did not return evil for evil and make noise while I knew he was trying to sleep.  I did take out the trash and do a load of laundry. 

One thing I see a lot on Hoarders, people don't take our their trash, get overwhelmed, and can't take out their trash.  Then they are climbing over mountains of crap while roaches and rats run everywhere.  So I am always trying to pick up junk and take it out. 

I don't clean up Ron's liquor bottles, though.  I give him a bag and "make" him do it. 

I ate a can of lasagna for dinner and took my pills while the laundry ran (my new capris, and some jeans).  Ron woke up and began drinking. 

He apparently hit the bottom of his liquor bottle and wanted more.  So he wanted my help, but I won't give it.  If he can't get his own liquor then he shouldn't get his own liquor.  He keeps it out in the garage. 

So he opened the door while I "watched to make sure the cats don't get out" - we have a garage door so they would be running around in an enclosed garage.  Then when they got bored they would yell for me to let them out.  He went out.  Gravity and the ramp took care of that.  He got not one, but two, bottles of vodka.  Then he couldn't get back in the house. 

And I wasn't helping him.  If he wants to drink HE has to drink.  I'm not helping him get ugly and hurt me.  That's just stupid.  I'm a lot of things but I'm not stupid. 

I didn't even watch him try to get in the house, I just kept the cats out.  He was making so much racket the cats were afraid of him anyway.  He eventually got back into the house and started drinking.  Again. 

Now he is doing what I call "The ominous grunt".  When he starts grunting he is very far gone, having a blackout, and inclined to do God knows what.  I think he got lost going to his room.  I may put him over by his bed in hopes he will just pass out, but all bets are off. 

He refuses to do portion control, he does use the portion control cup - I finally got him to see one ounce is a "serving", not a mouthful (four servings).  I remember many a blackout where he said "I only had one sip".  He can't regulate it, and can't see that he can't regulate it.  He will say things like "Oh, my back/foot/leg was bothering me so I had a couple extra drinks".  Well, he wouldn't have as much trouble with neuropathy if he regulated his drinking!  He is totally incapable of having one drink for any extended period of time. 

I remember Ron's drinking came up (I didn't bring it up, I think Ron did).  The driver asked if Ron drank a lot and I said yes, he did.  The driver didn't believe me and asked Ron.  Ron said he drank a lot.  The driver asked how long Ron had been drinking like that, and I said over 10 years.  Ron was shocked.  I obliquely reminded him of the infamous Everclear blackout and he had to agree.  But he was still shocked.  Sadly, that didn't last. 

But Ron binge-drank before then, he would have a really bad blackout and not drink anything for years.  Then he would start drinking again, "make" me admit "he was fine drinking", and eventually have another blackout.  This continued for over a decade, the intervals getting shorter.

That's why, when he asks now, I tell him he is not OK drinking, ever.  It kills the game.  Then the accident.  He had some blackouts after, but nothing out of the usual in terms of his drinking.  Then I got diagnosed, and treated.  He began drinking much more heavily and having more blackouts. 

What am I supposed to do, go off my meds?