Ah, this rang so many bells. My ex of ten years ago drank huge amounts and was in utter denial about there even being a possibility of a problem. I used to have to go out and find her, usually asleep in an alley, or passed out in a bar&#x27;s toilets - the worst occasion was when she threw a brick at me, as I had come to pry her away from a bar, and the recoil sent her tumbling into the Thames, in December - fished her out - and the next morning she was convinced I had pushed her in. Stabbed me with a stiletto heel a few months later, because I was trying to stop her hurling our furniture from a fifth story window.<p>Ultimately we broke up as it&#x27;s remarkably easy to bamboozle a drunk into admitting that yes, they have cheated on you dozens of times with dozens of men.<p>This woman is a high court judge now. As far as I can tell, most barristers and judges are full blown alcoholics. For some reason I loved her - probably in the same way as I love my three legged cat - broken, piteous things, both.<p>I suppose the point of where I&#x27;m going is that the only person who can rescue you is yourself. I tried for far too long for both of our sakes.