Lost In The BottleI have read the stories on this site for over a year now. I always read the confessions of those 'worse off' than me. It helps me fool myself into thinking what I do is normal. What a hypocrite.
I am 32, have a beautiful wife, a young healthy son, and am about to start the kind of job that many can only dream about. I am lucky beyond belief. But I cannot stop drinking. In fact, I am drunk right now. Just as I have been almost every night for the past several months ... and years.
If I owned a gun I might have already killed myself. The frustration and self loathing get that bad sometimes.
Every day, between 3 and 5 pm I have my first beer. It is usually a microbrew with an abv of at least 7.5 percent. I think about drinking all morning and shop for just the right brew during lunch. I pretend I am a "connoisseur," looking up beer ratings online, staging personal tastings, and taking notes. Somehow I always end up with the strongest beers in the store, pound them like medicine, and decimate my whole supply before crawling into bed, reeking of booze, next to my wife. My beautiful wife who always thinks the best of me.
I drink the equivalent of 8-12 beers every night. EVERY night. I rarely go out, and when I do I only have a few drinks so as to not alert friends, family and coworkers to my weakness.
I wake up hung over and jump start my system with an energy shot, vitamins, electrolyte water, and Tylenol. I resolve to not drink for one day. By the afternoon I am rewarding myself with 'just one or two.' We all know how that goes. The process repeats.
I have no reason to drink. It seems a necessary bodily function like eating or breathing. Sometimes, after the rare dry spell, my first drink is almost sexual in nature - it sends warm shivers down my spine.
I am convinced that the attraction to alcohol is genetic like eye color or height. Every man in my family has been a heavy drinker. One grandfather died of a heart attack at 65 due to heavy drinking and smoking. Another quit booze and lived into his eighties. Why he quit i don't know. One uncle went to rehab three times and is going strong. Another died of liver failure. Yet another uncle lost his life in a mysterious car crash back when 'one for the road' was the norm. My father drinks 1-2 bottles of wine a night - he is a great guy, healthy and successful. These are my role models.
One problem is that I have never hit the rock bottom that so many talk about. I can be obliterated and still be relatively sane - I don't get sentimental, angry, or strange. I maintain a facade of normalcy, peel myself off the floor in the morning, and do my job no matter what. This natural tolerance makes it possible for me to continue the drunk lifestyle unabated. i believe this is a genetic curse. A curse that will one day kill me.
My drinking has progressively escalated over the past ten years. It saps me of energy, kills my ambition, and is effecting my appearance. It is only a matter of time until i end up in rehab or the hospital. My body cannot sustain this for another decade.
I have a son and don't want this life for him. I want to be the one man in my family who stands up to the problem and conquers it. I dream of being the guy who can have a single drink and stop there. No rehab, no intervention.
I don't know if I can do it.