As the title says, my fiancé (let's call him Marc) called me a drug addict and drug abuser today because I take several prescription medications daily.
I want to make thee obligatory statement that I am a very casual user of reddit. I haven't really been active on my account for a few years and I don't think I have ever made a post, especially something so personal. I apologize in advance for my formatting and writing style. I have re-written this draft many times, and tried my best to give a fair retelling of the situation. Also, I have changed any identifying details in order to protect anonymity.
For a brief background, my fiancé (32M), Marc, and I (29F) have been together for almost three years and have been engaged for one year. I consider myself generally sober. I have always been indifferent substances and I never enjoyed the taste of alcohol. Have I been drunk? yes. Have I been high before? yes. However, I know myself pretty well, and just never felt substances were for me. I am a social butterfly, I was a bartender for many years, all of my friends are really into partying hard and it has never been awkward for me to stay sober while everyone else indulges. The last time I drank was one glass of wine when I went out for dinner for my mom's birthday four or five years ago. I just don't think about substances at all.
When I met Marc, he made it clear that he was interested in me... I told him prior to our first date that I don't drink, because we were going to a restaurant that is known for its bar / lounge. He wasn't fazed by it, and I told him it was okay for him to drink... but he expressed that he wasn't a big drinker. No problems. As our relationship progressed, alcohol and substances were just never part of either of our lifestyles.
Marc is French Canadian, I am an anglophone Canadian. We met in Montreal and moved to Toronto, my hometown, about two years ago. The only issues in our relationship have only been some cultural differences and sometimes language barrier / miscommunications. But we've never had any major conflicts or fights prior to recent events. About eight months ago, Marc's younger sister and brother wanted to move back to Canada after living in France for several years. We agreed to let them live with us when they got here in order to help them get on their feet, find jobs, and eventually get their own places to live. We had extra room's in our townhouse, and the living arrangement was always meant to be temporary. I saw this as a good chance to get to know Marc's siblings. Unfortunately, I didn't anticipate the major lifestyle and cultural differences that would negatively impact the living dynamic.
Marc's siblings were kind towards me. There was never any fighting between us. However, neither of them wanted to speak to me in English, and I am not fluent in French. Marc and his siblings would only speak to each other in French, and even though I am taking nightschool classes... I can't participate in a conversation in French. Marc would ask for them to speak english, but they felt I would never learn French if they spoke english (I felt that this was pretty rude). Very quickly Marc's brother (Let's call him Ethan) decided that there would be no english in the house, and yes.. Ethan only spoke to me in French... even if it was just us alone at the house. I would just stare at him blankly and make guesses about what he said off of context clues. This dynamic was very isolating for me, especially considering Marc's accent is Quebecois and his siblings have a strong Parisian accents. Marc's sister (Let's name her Louise) was actually totally fine speaking to me in English, but obvious if her brother's were home.. Louise spoke in french because that was more comfortable for her.
The other issue was that Marc's siblings very very heavy drinkers, and Marc's brother partakes in a lot of substances. Marc and I both had conversations separately with his brother about no hard substances in the home. It was my only request. I genuinely didn't care about their lifestyles, but I am working on my post-grad, applying for my Master's degree, all while working full-time and I just didn't want my home to feel like a college party house. Marc's brother seemed fine about this, but he would eventually bring hard drugs into the house whenever I went out of town to see my friends or family. This wasn't okay with me or Marc. But at this time Marc's brother hadn't found a job and I couldn't bring myself to ask him to leave.
Marc began drinking a lot since his siblings moved in with us, they both had alcohol in the house everyday, and Marc immediately began to partake. Marc's drinking didn't necessarily bother me, but it was a strange adjustment being with someone for 2.5 years and both of us never drinking... to having a partner that drank every single day. This contributed to my isolation, but there wasn't any fighting or conflicts about Marc's alcohol consumption... Until my birthday a few months ago.
My birthday was on a month ago on a Saturday, the day was normal, Marc and I spent the afternoon running errands together. He was going to make dinner and Sunday night we all were going to go out for tacos. When we got home, Marc's brother was home and wanted to make dinner with him. I decided to go to a yoga class. I was gone for an hour and a half, when I got home both Marc and his brother were so drunk... like absolutely wasted & no food was made for dinner. I was annoyed so I decided to go shower and hoped I wouldn't be as upset afterwards. However, while I was in the shower, Marc's sister got home and I could hear her yelling my name. I got myself downstairs and realized that Marc's brother had taken the keys to my car and was trying to drive it. I was intervening and trying to grab my keys from him. He was claiming he only have one beer (obvious lie because he couldn't even speak without slurring his words). I chased him outside to my car, and he ended up slamming my car door on my hand, which resulted in my hand being broken in three places. This was apparently accidental, but I don't believe that. Marc immediately tried to deescalate the situation, I was in shock and I kept telling him to leave me alone. My neighbour called the police and once on the scene an ambulance took me to the hospital. Marc was worried about me, but didn't want to get Ethan in trouble. Marc showed up at hospital, and we got into a fight about the drinking and how I felt constantly disrespected by Ethan. I was calm but stern, Marc was increasingly getting upset... adamant that he and Ethan only had two beers each. I told Marc that I felt dismissed and minimized. We didn't know my hand was broken yet, I was waiting for x-rays. I had asked Marc to go home because there was no resolution to the fighting. A few hours later, a doctor meets with me and tells me my hand was fractured in three places, including a knuckle fracture, a joint fracture and a fracture at the base of my index finger. I was put in a cast, referred to a surgeon, and had surgery scheduled the following week. When I called Marc with the update, he had seemed to have sobered up and immediately started crying. It was the complete opposite of how his attitude was hours prior.
After this incident, I told Marc it was time for his siblings to make plans to live on their own. Marc always understood and supported me, but also wasn't ready for his siblings to move out. We weren't charging either of them rent, we paid for all over the utilities, bills and groceries. They basically didn't pay for anything. They had both found jobs and were working full time. Louise was actually already planning to move into an apartment with a roommate, but she also told Marc it was time for Ethan to move out of my townhouse.
Ethan was very upset when Marc told him that he had to find his own place. Marc decided to have this conversation with just his brother, they were in the living room and I was upstairs in my bedroom. Marc's brother was livid. He was yelling so loud and I could tell he was saying some horrible things about me. I had tolerated a lot of disrespct