Some people talk about their wake-up call like it was a slow realization, a series of small moments adding up until one day, they just knew.
That wasn’t my story.
Mine hit me in the days following my release from the hospital.
Going home on blood thinners, with follow-up appointments scheduled with a neurosurgeon, was surreal. The diagnosis? Carotid artery dissection. I had no idea what that meant at first. But I quickly learned it was a 9 out of 10 on the medical emergency scale, one wrong move, one unlucky moment, and I this story might be a very different one. The reality of how close I had come to something far worse didn’t fully register until I was back in my own house, trying to go through the motions of everyday life. But nothing felt the same.
I couldn’t shake the weight of it: If I didn’t change my life now, when would I?
I knew this wasn’t just about alcohol. Sure, drinking had been a major problem. But it wasn’t the root cause. The real issue was the life I had been living, the relentless stress, the emotional and verbal abuse, the way I had allowed myself to be disrespected and torn down, year after year, trying to keep the peace in a marriage that was destroying me. I wasn’t just losing my marriage. I was losing myself.
For years, I tolerated things I should never have accepted daily, disrespect, criticism, mocking, gaslighting, ridicule, and daily verbal attacks. I convinced myself that if I was just patient enough, strong enough, or selfless enough, things would get better. But they didn’t.
So, I did what so many people do: I numbed the pain. Alcohol became my escape, my way to take the edge off, to make the days bearable. And through it all, the one person who was supposed to be my biggest supporter, my closest friend, was the one causing the most harm.
But when your body literally breaks down, when you’re staring at mortality, realizing that if you don’t change, you might not get another chance, there’s no more room for excuses.
How It Felt
Like chaos. Everywhere.
At home, nothing felt stable. I had finally said the words out loud: Things have to change, or we will divorce. We needed therapy immediately. I couldn’t live like this anymore.
It was the first time I had really stood my ground, against the anger, the manipulation, and her resistance to facing the truth. A decade of daily emotional and verbal abuse, and I finally refused to back down. No more softening my words. No more swallowing my needs just to avoid another fight. I had hit my breaking point.
At work, I felt like I was barely holding it together. My mind was constantly somewhere else, spinning, analyzing, weighing every possible outcome. I could hardly focus, and my job, something I had always taken pride in, became just another place where I was struggling to keep afloat.
Inside my own head? A war zone.
One side of me screamed, You have to fix this. Make it work. You’ve been here too long to walk away.
The other side, the one I had ignored for years, finally fought back.
Enough. You deserve better than this.
That war raged for months. Should I stay? Should I go?
But deep down, I already knew the answer.
The First Steps I Took
✔ I made the decision, and I said it out loud. No more internal debates. No more pretending. I told her: This changes, or we don’t survive.
✔ I got into therapy. Not just for the marriage, but for myself. I needed to understand why I had stayed in something that broke me down for so long. I needed help from the damage of abuse.
✔ I cut alcohol way back. I wasn’t ready to quit entirely yet, but I knew I had to regain control. And strangely, with the daily abuse stopped, it wasn’t even that hard at all. Now, I am in complete control.
✔ I started reclaiming my life. Small steps at first, getting back into exercise, setting boundaries, leaning on friends and family, and forcing myself to put my own well-being first. For the first time in years, I mattered again.
What I Learned from That Wake-Up Call
It’s easy to tell yourself that things will change someday. That you’ll deal with it when the time is right. That the next argument, the next apology, the next “fresh start” will finally be different.
But someday never comes unless you make it happen.
For me, that moment after the hospital was my hard stop. This was it. I couldn’t live like this anymore.
And the truth is, I’m still in that process. Still working through the aftermath. Still figuring out what comes next.
But one thing I know for certain?
I’m never going back.
Your Wake-Up Call
Maybe yours hasn’t come yet. Or maybe it has, but you’ve ignored it, hoping things will fix themselves.
If you take one thing from my story, let it be this:
You don’t have to wait for a breakdown to change your life.
You just have to be willing to face the truth, and take the first step.
#emotionalabuse #verbalabuse #alcoholfree #sober #marriage #men #mentalhealth
Alcohol, Marriage, Personal Growth and More 
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