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He’d deny drinks when they were offered to him, but then secretly drink miniature bottles of vodka throughout the day.
I say “semi-functional” because even though coworkers would point out his “alcohol cologne,” he was still able to hold down jobs for years at a time.
And there it was: a half-empty pint-sized bottle of vodka in his trunk. Ultimately, it was the lying that undid the little we had left.
I say “closeted” because he would pretend that he wasn’t a drinker around our friends and families.One day, I was driving past the liquor store and saw his car parked out front.It wasn’t even in a real parking spot: He had just pulled up in front and left his car, the way one parks in an emergency.We tried therapy, as a couple and individually, but he gave that up after a few times, too.During the last few months we were together, everyone who came into contact with him would tell me he was drinking again — even his hairdresser. We lived together, and I could never find a trace in our home. A few days later, he called me in a belligerent state and picked a nearly incoherent fight.
When I asked him about the alcohol smell, he chalked it up to the scent of his cologne, and I believed him.