10 Years Today

This is a repost, marking 10 years since I decided to give up my little alcohol habit.

Disclaimer: This post isn’t meant to be funny. These things are only funny to me because they are all true, because I did them, and because I salvaged my poor gin-soaked soul on August 6, 2003. If you think you might have a problem, consider these points or take this quiz. I took it 14 times before I realized that cheating on the answers didn’t make them any less true.

Image respectfully borrowed from BeerStuff

You Might Have a Teensy Weensy Problem With Alcohol If…

• You make three separate trips to the recycling center because you don’t want anyone to see how many bottles you have, but you still care about the earth.
• You carry your trash really carefully when your landlord is around, so he doesn't hear the clinking.
• You remember drinking 1 bottle of chardonnay, but in the morning you see 3 empty ones.
• You go to at least 3 different liquor stores because you don't want to be seen going so often; nevertheless, all the owners cheerfully greet you by name.
• You drunk-dial your friends and then tell them the same story several times, in almost the exact same words. When they call you on it, you say, "oh, I've told this story so many times I don't remember who I told it to." (this doesn't work very well when it's the same person, in the same phone call)
• You make elaborate plans with friends and family, and then don’t remember a word. The next day, when your friend says, “so what time should I come over?” you pretend you know all about it to cover your ass. Later, when your other friend calls (with whom you also made plans), you cancel because of an “appointment you forgot you had”.
• Your first words in the morning, every morning for 2+ years, are “Oh, shit ... not again.”
• Your coworkers ask you why you look so tired, or if you are sick (answer: both). Your answer: trouble sleeping (also true).
• You wake up at 3 AM every night in a shame spiral, and wonder how & when you got to this point. You’re an intelligent, beautiful, self-aware woman, dammit—you can’t be a drunk! (you can be both; nobody sets out to have this affliction on purpose, ya know. Duh.) (By the way I sometimes dream that I went on a drinking binge & wake up feeling utter despair at having failed, then relief that I’m still OK. And if I did fail, I hope I’d have the strength to pick up where I left off).
• You bring your own magnum of chardonnay to the party because they probably don’t have what you want (or enough of it); you offer to open it for the hostess. You drink most of it.
• You order a whole bottle of wine at a bar and the bartendress keeps it on ice for you and all the friends you intend to share it with. Most of them don’t have any.
• You decide that a mandarin Absolut & tonic (m.a.t.) is OK at 10 AM; it’s citrusy, like orange juice. That's breakfast, right?
• You decide that grocery shopping is so much more fun with a buzz on, so you have one m.a.t. for breakfast & then put one in a sippy cup for the road.
• The following activities are drinking triggers: talking on the phone, sitting at the computer, watching TV, driving home from work. Also breathing, eating, sleeping.
• You’ve rationalized that you’d better switch to vodka since it doesn’t smell (as much—enough of anything and your sweat still smells like skid row).
• You lie to your best friend on the phone that the reason your speech is slurred is because you are wearing a Crest White Strips on your teeth.
• You decide to drink only on weekends, then drink on a Thursday because that’s close.
• You decide to drink every other day, and then fail after 2 days.
• You decide not to drink one morning, and then change your mind on the drive home. You haven’t done it yet, you could still stop it, but having made the decision in your mind it is already too late. This yet-unacted-upon weakness fills you with despair.
• You decide to drink just 2 glasses of wine, but glass 3.5 kills the bottle (you have biiiig glasses), so why stop? Wine goes bad if it sits.
• Wine never goes bad in your house.
• You wonder aloud about your drinking habits with all of your drinking friends, and say things like, “it’s not as if I’d drink something else if there were no wine in the house” (this was before I discovered the m.a.t. and the no-smell-vodka secret)
• There is always wine in the house.
• You actually think to yourself, who needs friends when I have this?
• You choose a night home with a DVD and 2 bottles of wine over a night out with friends (rationalization: cheaper, and then I don't have to drive drunk).
• You wonder aloud whether a life without wine in it is even possible. All those dinners out, and no wine? (it is possible, and the peace of mind that comes from a sober life far exceeds the enjoyment of a fine chardonnay. Although sometimes I still imagine the molten-gold flavor of it going down my throat, and I feel a lust unlike anything I’ve ever felt).
• You finally resolve to quit drinking, but you can’t “officially” quit until all the booze in the house is gone, so you make a list of everything you need to consume, including that nasty bottle of Pimm's and the Smuggler whiskey your dad brought over for a party once (happy ending: upon realizing the huge volumes I’d have to consume, I gave all my top-shelf vodkas, gins, scotches & rums to a friend for her huge summer bash, and poured the rest of it down the toilet on August 7, 2003. Funny, I didn’t feel bad about wasting it, even though I was raised not to waste nutrients. I figured those kids in Africa didn’t need to become boozehounds).
• You check out the AA website, just to see what it’s all about.
• [UPDATE] You taste a tiny tiny sip of your husband's drink sometimes, mostly to remind yourself that you can't have it, you are never safe around it.  When you taste, it flows into you like a river of golden lava and awakes a craving so deep and complete that you know, really know, that you are only well because you are not having it and oh, what a slippery slope this is ... truly, in one day it could all be undone by going down this path.  So you just touch the path with your toe for the reminder, and then pull it back to safety. Tickle the sleeping tiger, then pull your hand back to watch it very closely, lest it fix its gaze upon you.

[note: I am not made uncomfortable in any way by the mention of alcohol, the presence of it, or when my friends around me order it at the dinner table. I am happy to discuss it and proud of my sobriety. It’s not a word that needs to be whispered, like cancer or prison. I am not offended by anyone’s drunken audio post, or mention of drunkenness in this virtual (or any other) world. The only thing that upsets me is when I meet/see people who are obvious alcoholics; not because I judge them but because I know the place they are in, and it is not a good place. I questioned my drinking for 8 years, and experienced out-of-control drinking for about a year and a half before I stopped. I still question exactly how I got to that point. I can only hope that suffering alcoholics find solid ground, as I did. Thank you for reading.]