Dr Bokko – I’ve spent years feeling my heart break as the wonderful man I married slowly faded away. James was once everything to me: a caring partner, a devoted father to our two children, and a skilled mechanic who frequently discussed his aspirations of opening his dream garage. Life felt full of promise until his work pals nudged him toward those casual post-shift beers. What seemed like innocent unwinding quickly snowballed into an unbreakable hold. It kicked off light: “Just a few brews to relax,” he’d say with a grin. Before long, those relaxed evenings stretched into wild weekend blowouts, then every single day. Money that should’ve fed our kids vanished into bottles instead.
The first red flag? He pawned our trusty kitchen blender for a quick fix. Next, the TV went. Worst of all, he ditched his beloved toolbox, the very gear that paid our bills. I’d beg him to stop, tears streaming, and he’d swear on his life, “Babe, this is it. I’m done for good.” But come Friday, he’d stumble through the door, broke and bloodshot, reeking of regret. Time wore him down hard. Ulcers gnawed at his gut, chest aches kept him up, and he aged overnight, like two decades caught up in a flash. Some evenings, he’d heave up blood; others, he’d limp home battered from tavern scraps. Our kids learnt to steer clear, their innocent eyes dimming. I stashed our school savings under the bed, fingers crossed he’d never sniff it out. Continue Reading.
