Hi.
I wonder whether or not I'm the first newbie to post while drinking a beer. That would be kind of funny, except it really isn't funny at all. I'm desperate to get control over my drinking. By most measures, I'm pretty successful. I finished my PhD last year and have a tenure track job at a major university. I did this after I left my first career in the corporate world, which I hated. While I worked in corporate, I developed a nice little drinking problem: six pack of beer alone at night but more often than not, out drinking with my alcoholic fellow worker bees. Back then, there came a point where I decided to quit. And I did. I quit for a year.
But graduate school and drinking (don't think it's just for undergraduates... oh no, it's not. I won't even mention the rampant problem drinking among jr. academics trying to deal with the stress of pursuing tenure) go hand and hand. In college, I barely drank at all. Wasn't my thing. Graduate school gave me the opportunity to relive my youthful college days. Study hard, write, teach etc during the week. Party even harder on the weekend. I had it under control for the first few years. But when I got to that point in a PhD program where you begin dissertation research--lonely, self-driven work--, I slowly began to drink every day. Just a little at first... But soon, I could easily consume a bottle of wine (that's not "real" alcohol is it? Not really? It demonstrates sophistication.... Shouldn't a well educated person know the difference between Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris?) by myself at night, while writing through the wee hours.
Then last year, I became one of the lucky few in my field to get a tenure track position while I was ABD (all but dissertation). Shock. luck. Wonder. All I ever wanted. I left my beautiful little grad student world in gorgeous up state New York and moved to a place I truly dislike for "the job." And I love the job. But I've managed to convert my hatred of the place the job is into an excuse to drink even more... I remain productive. I teach well. But I'm getting to the point where these things will soon not be true. See, now, all I think of is when can I get that first drink. The first one that will inevitably lead to a second... And well, the bottle's open: why not a third? Then, it doesn't pay to leave a half bottle of wine stagnating on the counter. It won't taste as good tomorrow. Plus, I'm hungry and I don't feel like cooking. You get the drift.
It has become increasingly difficult for me to manage my life: not just work, but the stuff you have to do: bill to pay, kitchens to clean, cars that need an oil change, email to answer, phone calls you had better return... Oh, I blame everyone but myself. It's because when I was a kid, my dad was chasing his career dreams and moved my family from place to place every two years or so. Oh, my parents never taught me how to manage my life. Oh, I'm disconnnected because I have lived a life of almost constant dislocation and therefore I need the comfort alcohol brings. Oh, it's because I'm black and in a largely white field and feel alien. Oh it's because I'm black in a largely "white" discipline and thus refuse to find connections with my "own." And on and on. Maybe these things are true. But ultimately they are all just b*llshit excuses I use to frame what is sure to become the central...no absolute...failure of my life.
I bought the pdf My Way Out two days ago and read it all in a couple of hours. And it sounds like it can work. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist Monday to discuss Topamax and will order the supplements and even the hypnotherapy CDs. (Though I must admit I'm skeptical). I'm terrified of and for myself. If this doesn't work, what wil I do. I've tried to will myself to quit or at least slow down. But I CRAVE the stuff. I don't want to consume anything else.... I don't want to do anything else.
I don't believe in a "higher power." The only way for me is to restore my self-control. But I don't know whether I can.
I wonder whether or not I'm the first newbie to post while drinking a beer. That would be kind of funny, except it really isn't funny at all. I'm desperate to get control over my drinking. By most measures, I'm pretty successful. I finished my PhD last year and have a tenure track job at a major university. I did this after I left my first career in the corporate world, which I hated. While I worked in corporate, I developed a nice little drinking problem: six pack of beer alone at night but more often than not, out drinking with my alcoholic fellow worker bees. Back then, there came a point where I decided to quit. And I did. I quit for a year.
But graduate school and drinking (don't think it's just for undergraduates... oh no, it's not. I won't even mention the rampant problem drinking among jr. academics trying to deal with the stress of pursuing tenure) go hand and hand. In college, I barely drank at all. Wasn't my thing. Graduate school gave me the opportunity to relive my youthful college days. Study hard, write, teach etc during the week. Party even harder on the weekend. I had it under control for the first few years. But when I got to that point in a PhD program where you begin dissertation research--lonely, self-driven work--, I slowly began to drink every day. Just a little at first... But soon, I could easily consume a bottle of wine (that's not "real" alcohol is it? Not really? It demonstrates sophistication.... Shouldn't a well educated person know the difference between Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris?) by myself at night, while writing through the wee hours.
Then last year, I became one of the lucky few in my field to get a tenure track position while I was ABD (all but dissertation). Shock. luck. Wonder. All I ever wanted. I left my beautiful little grad student world in gorgeous up state New York and moved to a place I truly dislike for "the job." And I love the job. But I've managed to convert my hatred of the place the job is into an excuse to drink even more... I remain productive. I teach well. But I'm getting to the point where these things will soon not be true. See, now, all I think of is when can I get that first drink. The first one that will inevitably lead to a second... And well, the bottle's open: why not a third? Then, it doesn't pay to leave a half bottle of wine stagnating on the counter. It won't taste as good tomorrow. Plus, I'm hungry and I don't feel like cooking. You get the drift.
It has become increasingly difficult for me to manage my life: not just work, but the stuff you have to do: bill to pay, kitchens to clean, cars that need an oil change, email to answer, phone calls you had better return... Oh, I blame everyone but myself. It's because when I was a kid, my dad was chasing his career dreams and moved my family from place to place every two years or so. Oh, my parents never taught me how to manage my life. Oh, I'm disconnnected because I have lived a life of almost constant dislocation and therefore I need the comfort alcohol brings. Oh, it's because I'm black and in a largely white field and feel alien. Oh it's because I'm black in a largely "white" discipline and thus refuse to find connections with my "own." And on and on. Maybe these things are true. But ultimately they are all just b*llshit excuses I use to frame what is sure to become the central...no absolute...failure of my life.
I bought the pdf My Way Out two days ago and read it all in a couple of hours. And it sounds like it can work. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist Monday to discuss Topamax and will order the supplements and even the hypnotherapy CDs. (Though I must admit I'm skeptical). I'm terrified of and for myself. If this doesn't work, what wil I do. I've tried to will myself to quit or at least slow down. But I CRAVE the stuff. I don't want to consume anything else.... I don't want to do anything else.
I don't believe in a "higher power." The only way for me is to restore my self-control. But I don't know whether I can.
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