"Just one drink, maybe two, and then I'll stop. No more than two, for sure."
This is the mantra of my addiction. What it knows, that until very recently I've also known but not admitted, is that I never ever stop at one or two if I can drink more. But this little game, this silly charade that I've lived for the vast majority of my adult life, is my most powerful enabler. The idea that it is physically possible to have one or two drinks and then stop.
And I suppose, physically speaking, that is true for me. Mentally, it is not. I am totally convinced that after I have one drink, something chemically happens in my brain that takes away my jurisdiction over decision making regarding alcohol consumption. It's as if this feral, instinctual part takes over: "MORE. NOW." The message is no more complicated than that.
Eventually, I know from experience, living an AF life gets significantly easier. Your reflex solution to *every* problem isn't "Start drinking!" Your default move to celebrate *anything* ceases to be "Start drinking!" Your inevitable solution to boredom is no longer "Generic vodka at 10AM!" These behaviors, unnatural and destructive as they are, do get unlearned. But it takes time, and early on, when you have no other habits and few other tools to cope, it can be extremely difficult to avoid denial: "Maybe this time I'll just have two, and then I'll stop. After all, I haven't had a drink in 10 days! If I were really an alcoholic, I'd be drinking every day/living in the streets/shaking like a leaf every morning/insert other behavior you're not exhibiting yet here."
It is on these days that I like to think of myself as living in a 'LOST' (the TV show) kind of reality. I think of the past and future me, as I have been (miserable, dying, desperate to get sober) and I could still eventually be (the same). And if the current, sober me was able to see a message from the past and future me and if they only had five words they'd be able to share, I know what those messages would read.
"WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T DRINK!"
So when I start to feel a little lazy or complacent, when my addiction starts to convince me, just a little, that one drink couldn't hurt, I remember what taking just one drink got me after a full year of sobriety. Two and a half years of hell: blackouts, shame and terror. I never have to go there again. The rest of my life can be whatever I want it to be.
Of course, getting back to that nightmare, probably once and for all, could not be any simpler.
Just one drink.
This is the mantra of my addiction. What it knows, that until very recently I've also known but not admitted, is that I never ever stop at one or two if I can drink more. But this little game, this silly charade that I've lived for the vast majority of my adult life, is my most powerful enabler. The idea that it is physically possible to have one or two drinks and then stop.
And I suppose, physically speaking, that is true for me. Mentally, it is not. I am totally convinced that after I have one drink, something chemically happens in my brain that takes away my jurisdiction over decision making regarding alcohol consumption. It's as if this feral, instinctual part takes over: "MORE. NOW." The message is no more complicated than that.
Eventually, I know from experience, living an AF life gets significantly easier. Your reflex solution to *every* problem isn't "Start drinking!" Your default move to celebrate *anything* ceases to be "Start drinking!" Your inevitable solution to boredom is no longer "Generic vodka at 10AM!" These behaviors, unnatural and destructive as they are, do get unlearned. But it takes time, and early on, when you have no other habits and few other tools to cope, it can be extremely difficult to avoid denial: "Maybe this time I'll just have two, and then I'll stop. After all, I haven't had a drink in 10 days! If I were really an alcoholic, I'd be drinking every day/living in the streets/shaking like a leaf every morning/insert other behavior you're not exhibiting yet here."
It is on these days that I like to think of myself as living in a 'LOST' (the TV show) kind of reality. I think of the past and future me, as I have been (miserable, dying, desperate to get sober) and I could still eventually be (the same). And if the current, sober me was able to see a message from the past and future me and if they only had five words they'd be able to share, I know what those messages would read.
"WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T DRINK!"
So when I start to feel a little lazy or complacent, when my addiction starts to convince me, just a little, that one drink couldn't hurt, I remember what taking just one drink got me after a full year of sobriety. Two and a half years of hell: blackouts, shame and terror. I never have to go there again. The rest of my life can be whatever I want it to be.
Of course, getting back to that nightmare, probably once and for all, could not be any simpler.
Just one drink.
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