OK. Time to pay the piper, I guess.
I’m afraid I’m an alcoholic. A fully functioning one. But nonetheless an alcoholic.
For the past as long as I can remember, I’ve had a few drinks (virtually) every night. Some weeks, I might manage as much as two nights per week off, but those have become the exception, not the rule.
Everything is an excuse to drink. I run a successful business, and when I’ve had a good day, I want to celebrate with a drink. When I’ve had a bad one, I want to forget about my day, and unwind with a drink. When the kids are a handful, I want a drink. And when they’re quiet, I want to spend some “quality time” with my wife and have a drink.
When the sun is out, I want to drive down to our local beach bar, and have a drink. And when it’s raining, I want to light some candles and have a drink.
It used to be, I wouldn’t drink before 6. Then, 5. Now, it’s 4. And if I can get away with it (like, for example, on weekends) sometimes it’s earlier. Barbecues have become synonymous with 8-hour boozefests, in which I’ll start drinking at Noon, and only finish when it’s time for bed (or when I pass out drunk for “a quick nap”).
I suspect most of our friends know I’m an alcoholic, or at least suspect it. I’m always the one to pour the first glass, always the one ready to crack open another bottle. I’m generous with alcohol, mostly because I ensure we’re fully stocked before anyone enters the house anyway.
It wasn’t always like this. I used to have a good balance, in terms of drinking. Don’t get me wrong, it was always easy to have a few, or even a few too many. But I never drank every night. I never drank like this.
I started drinking when I was about 15 or so. I worked in restaurants at the time, and often finished at 1 or 2 AM. After that, I’d “unwind” in one of the local bars with a Jack Daniels (neat, with ice). I looked old enough to drink, so no one would ask questions.
Then, I spent a few years working in a club. Every weekend was a real booze fest, and many nights I woke up not remembering how I’d gotten home, who I’d ______ or where my car was.
College made things (slightly) worse, because in addition to Friday and Saturday, there was now also Thursday night clubbing. And the occasional few beers on Monday or Wednesday night with pizza.
Still, I felt completely normal. After all, everyone around me was doing the same. And there were always one or two people who were “worse”, so I could always hide behind that.
After college, things quieted down for a while. I had a partner who didn’t drink quite as much, and I actually managed to split a bottle of wine between two people, and over two nights.
After we divorced, I continued to be “pretty good” about my drinking. I was pretty healthy at the time, and managed to keep it to Friday and Saturday night “drink until you’re pretty drunk, but not wasted”, and half a bottle of wine on Wednesdays.
Then, big time drinking hit. Launching my business was a pretty stressful time, not helped by the fact that we had a newborn. A bottle of wine per night became the norm, and more on weekends. For the first time ever, I actually drank on Sunday morning (of course, hiding it from my wife), to feel slightly better from my godawful hangover from Saturday.
Thankfully, I’ve managed to keep that to a handful of times (morning drinking) in the close to three decades that I’ve been drinking.
After I realised I was drinking WAY too much, I went dry for about three months. I don’t remember it as being particularly difficult. I just stopped drinking, swapped beer for flavoured drinks and continued doing what I’d always done.
We still had parties. There was still alcohol. Food. Fun. The only difference was that the glass in my hand didn’t have alcohol in it. Friends tried to tempt me, but I didn’t give in. Secretly, I felt kind of proud for being able to resist the temptation. And some people told me they admired my choice of not drinking.
Then, around my 40th birthday, I started drinking again. A beer or two at first, very controlled. Then, some wine. Until, for the past 6 months or so, I’ve been drinking on average 5-6 nights per week, and drinking A LOT.
Most nights, I’ll start off with 2-3 pints. Then, a bottle of wine, which I’ll mostly polish off by myself (my wife will have a small glass). Then, I’ll “top up” my buzz with a few sips from whatever liquor is in the cabinet (gin, vodka, …). Oh, and maybe a pre-dinner G&T thrown in, just for good measure.
I’m not a trouble drinker. Worst that’s ever happened was that I slept on the street for a few hours, coming back from a beach party. And managed to get myself locked out my hotel room once, to end up at the reception desk in my boxers, asking if they could let me back into my room (thank God it was a small hotel). And then, of course, there are the “Oh My God, We Got SO Drunk Last Night” moments shared with friends over breakfast on Sunday.
Nothing really bad has ever happened. I never hit anyone. Never crashed a car drunk (in fact, I don’t drive after I’ve been drinking). Never got into a fight.
Instead, I’m the definition of the Functioning Alcoholic. I run a successful business. Live by the beach in a beautiful place with year-round sunshine. I love my job, and make a very, very comfortable living that allows me to live without major financial worries. I have a beautiful family, with two small boys, a loving wife, a cute dog and an adorable little kitten.
I meditate every morning, and practice yoga. Three times per week, I go for a cycle or a run. I do my 10’000 steps every day. I juice every morning. We don’t eat processed foods. I eat veggie several times per week.
As it turns out, drinking is just about my only vice.
Which may make things more difficult. After all, as my inner voice goes, “every man should be allowed one vice”, right ?
My mother was an alcoholic, and died of alcohol-related complications in her mid-fifties. OK, she also smoked, drank soda all day long and never ate a vegetable in her life.
So I must be OK, right ? I’ve had no major health issues in my life, aside from a broken bone or two (from sports, ironically).
Still, I know that if I keep going this way, I will most likely die young, painfully and possibly alone.
There are many reasons I want to quit drinking. My health, as the most important one. The fact that I don’t want my boys to grow up with the image of their father swagging back a few every night (only to repeat the pattern later in life). The fact that I want to lose weight, and look good again. To stop the feeling of not-quite-a-hangover-but-feeling-sluggish in the morning. To know that I’ll live long, happy and healthy ever after.
So why is it so hard to simply stop drinking ? If you’re an alcoholic, you know what I mean. And if you’re not, you’ll never understand.
As I’m writing this, it’s morning. It’s a beautiful, gorgeous day. I can see the ocean from my office, the blue sky and the mountains in the backdrop. I had a 45-minute session on my spinning bike this morning, and our kitten is purring away under my desk.
I feel like a million bucks.
And having a drink couldn’t be further from my mind right now. And yet, it’s kinda there at the same time. Because I know that, later today, the ugly beast is going to come out.
Like clockwork, around 4 PM or so, I’ll start craving a nice, cool beer. Then, another one. Then, make plans for dinner. Maybe a G&T whilst I’m cooking. Another one if I can squeeze it in (and the wife’s not looking). Then, crack open a bottle of wine.
By the time it’s 7 PM, I’ll be lucky if I can remember actually putting the kids to bed the next day.
They say that the first step to beating addiction is realising that you’ve got a problem. Well, I’ve got a problem.
It’s not unfixable. It’s not the end of the world. It’s something that (tens of) thousands, if not hundreds of thousands around the world have successfully overcome. But it’s still a problem. And it’s my problem.
I’m an alcoholic.
(If you’ve read this far, thanks - felt good to get this off my chest).
Submitted March 09, 2017 at 04:31AM by HarveySpecter1974 http://ift.tt/2n9Ca5w
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