nobody

Here is a little of my story. When I began having problems with alcohol, I was reluctant to acknowledge my drinking problem. Those around me could clearly see that I lacked control, but I was in denial. Being young and Irish, I felt invincible. Despite my relatively short drinking history compared to others, my 10-year span was filled with attempts to show I could handle it. Obsessively, I tested different "Go-To" drinks, paced my consumption, and set drink limits—yet I'd often lose count after the twelfth. I experimented with mixing various drinks and even switched to diet cola to avoid sugary beverages. I thought I had a foolproof system. But I wasn't like most people. The idea of leaving a drink unfinished or stopping after one or two was foreign to me. Three main things "controlled" my drinking: my budget, my ride home, and my consciousness. If my ride was leaving, or I ran out of money, or I passed out, only then would I stop. By age 22, my drinker's spirit was broken. I crossed into a realm that cannot be reversed, and profound darkness became all too real. I found myself in potentially fatal situations, at risk of serious injury, or as an unwitting accomplice to crimes I was too inebriated to notice. Many close friends distanced themselves from me. The few I remained in touch with were ones I avoided drinking with. Instead, I surrounded myself with people I deemed "inferior" to always feel on top. I'd think, "I'm not as bad as he is." I reached a point where self-reflection was necessary. I had to face my own reflection in the mirror and confront the truth. Although I hadn't faced a DUI, jail time, divorce, or caused a fatal accident, these "Yets" lingered. How could I consider myself someone with a drinking problem? Society perpetuates the myth that only those on skid row or behind bars are the real problem drinkers. This is a misconception. If alcohol or drugs cause issues in your life, you probably have a problem. If you genuinely believe you don't have an issue, then try quitting. If there's no problem, there should be no difficulty in stopping, right? If peer pressure or the desire to be fun keeps you drinking, test your control—limit yourself to one or two drinks. If you truly don't have an alcohol problem, sticking to this limit or abstaining altogether shouldn't be an issue. But, if you're spending significant time after reading this, pondering or justifying your habits, you might be different from those who can easily limit or quit. They don't agonize over these choices. They don't even think about it. To them, ordering a beer or wine is just like putting ketchup on fries. They use one or two packets every time. Why would they need more? You see such individuals savoring just one glass of wine at dinner or leaving their second cocktail mostly untouched. They don't obsess; they simply enjoy, and sometimes, they forget their drink altogether. And I was the guy who would say, "Oh, I left my wallet," and go back and chug their drinks. True story. My last drink was some half-gallon fishbowl mixture of God knows what. The last thing I remember was my buddy went to dance with the girls we met. I was supposed to watch the drinks. I tried to finish the fishbowl thing. I don't remember anything after that. I don't know how I got home, but I drove my friend and myself several miles down a busy city street. I woke up in a panic and ran down to see if my car was there and if there was any damage. Then I came back up to my bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I remembered I had just quit a few months ago for three months. I had been doing well. What happened? Why did I start again, and WHY couldn't I just have a few? Because I have a mental obsession to drink and then once I start, I lose control of when or how I will stop. I am an alcoholic. But I don't have to live like that anymore. I surrendered. I found a Higher Power of my understanding. I asked Him to help me find a way out. I started to do the steps, even though my mind said, "This is BULLSHIT, MAN." I did it anyway because I was scared. The pain was too much for me. Alcohol wasn't working anymore, and the committee in my head was presenting me with other new options like cocaine or pills. I could control those, right? The meek little voice said, "No, you will die. You can't control a fucking six-pack of beer. Did you see Scarface? You will bury your head into the biggest pile of coke you can find and snort yourself into cardiac arrest or choke on your own vomit from taking too many pills." I got honest. Can you get honest? Come on. You know. Are you like me? Be honest. Don't try to hustle a hustler.