The definition of an alcoholic:
“An alcoholic is a man or woman who suffers from alcoholism – they have a distinct physical desire to consume alcohol beyond their capacity to control it, regardless of all rules of common sense.”
I read that over and over and thought, this is me. I’d known for longer than I’d like to admit that I was an alcoholic but at 24 going on 25 how was this my reality? How had I gotten here after everything I’d seen my father go through and swore I’d never repeat? Feelings of guilt, despair, disappointment and shame were feelings I’d carry around with me daily because of the way I was living my life.
All of my friends were drinkers. They’d have a glass during the week and share a bottle or two on the weekends. Not me though, I’d drink a bottle or two during the week or per night depending on how I felt. Come the weekend I’d be drunk before lunch time and this was all on my own, no social setting was needed.
I remember mornings waking up for work hungover, thinking about how if I had a drink I’d feel better. I never drank before work but the thought was there and then I’d feel shame for even thinking it. I knew I had a problem but denial, denial, denial.
I’d use any excuse to drink. I’d had a hard day at work, I needed a pick me up, I wanted a glass while I cooked, I wanted a drink while I cleaned the house, I wanted to relax, I was going to watch a movie, why not have a beer in the shower or a vodka in the bath? Thing is, it was never just one. I’d end up blind drunk and blacking out whether I was at home or out partying. I had no control over my alcohol consumption, no limits, I’d drink until I physically couldn’t anymore.
I hid this all really well from my friends and family. They didn’t know about my mid-week habits. I was very good at concealing it all and always putting on a happy face.
The person who this affected the most aside from me was my husband. There were so many fights and so much unhappiness caused solely by my drinking. He saw it all, I’d embarrassed him and our relationship more times than I could count because when I’d drink I wasn’t myself. I’d turn into this horrible person. I’d be nasty, aggressive and completely intolerable. I don’t know why he stuck around, looking back now I honestly would have left if the roles were reversed. It was that bad. I know that over time it started to change him as a person too. It broke him down because he loved me and here I was hurting him time and time again.
We had a break not long after our wedding due to my drinking. He needed time away from me and the negative environment I’d turned our home into. Even the possibility of losing the one person that meant the most to me wasn’t enough to stop me drinking at the time.