Friday, December 28, 2012

Not Your Average Drunk

I haven't done any writing over the past couple of weeks but I've done a lot of thinking. Reading the stories of other alcoholics has made it harder for me to accept the idea that I am among them.

Recently, I've heard tales of women leaving infants/toddlers home alone while they run to the liquor store, drunken-driving with kids in the car, agressive/abusive behavior toward children or spouses, women who drink a bottle or bottles of hard liquor/wine/whatever daily in secret or out in the open. None of these stories are mine. None of them resonnate with me. All they do is make me feel more isolated and confused.

Does the fact that I'm not doing these things mean I am not an alcoholic? Does the fact that I have never been a daily drinker mean I don't have a drinking problem? Does the fact that my drinking has only been out of control for the past two years mean that I'm not an alcoholic?

I don't know. Some days, I think it does. I read these stories and am almost giddy at the idea that if those actions define alcoholism, then I am most definitely not an alcoholic. But then I think back to something a therapist once told me: Alcoholism is not defined by what you drink or how often you drink; it's about what you do when you're drinking and how you feel afterward.

We were discussing my ex-husband's drunken antics at the time, and his refusal to take responsibility for anything done or said while intoxicated. Same therapist also defined a drinking problem as occurring when you or those close to you have a problem with what happens while you're drinking. She'd say, "If you or those you know think you might have a drinking problem, you probably do."

She was blunt; I always liked that about her. And I've carried those words with me for over a decade. Those words have been on repeat in my brain for the last year or so as I've wondered if my drinking had entered the "problem" category.

I have never been a daily drinker. I don't have the money, the free time or the ability to buy and consume alcohol on a daily basis. At this point in my life, even cheap wine has to be in the budget in order to be a possibility. And there's really only enough disposable income to justify one night out a month so it's not like I am the queen of the bars.

But when I do drink, I drink a lot. I drink until the booze runs out or I fall asleep. If I buy a bottle of wine, I usually drink the entire bottle of wine that day or evening. The next day, I find myself craving more wine and lamenting that I guzzled it all the night before. That's why I think I have a problem. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I read online somewhere that when entering recovery, you should strive to find similarities with fellow alcoholics/addicts instead of differences. That's where I am at now, reading the horror stories and trying to see how that could be me -- if not now, in the future if I continue on my path.

I'm not your average drunk, and I'm starting to realize that nobody else is either. We are all individuals with one thing in common -- we like to crawl into a bottle of something as a way to cope or escape -- and we've all discovered that commonality is an unhealthy one.

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