Okay, here it goes. Does every first post on here start like that? I feel like it should. I don't know if I should even be here. I don't know if I drink because I'm a drunk, or if I drink because I'm me.
To start, I'm 37, a gay man, and single. My sister, five years younger than me, just started a family. Being the new year just past Christmas, greeting all the happy families at home certainly hasn't made it easy for me to "control my drinking" like I promised myself.
The funny thing is, that isn't even the life I want. I have terrible credit, a decent job I have luke warm feelings for, and I've never dreamed of picket fences, and I don't have a personal problem with any of that. Maybe I'm weird, but I've never sought more in someone else.
I told a couple good friends about my drinking. The best responses I've gotten are disinterested, usually saying "well just stop." Some have even taken it as a personal attack replying with, "I don't drink that much, do I?," not seeming to understand it isn't about them.
I'm sure that's common, even clich?. I don't want to be the alcoholic who projects my own problems on my friends, the one who thinks every hangover equals a problem. The ex-smoker who lectures smokers. Good people drink, and I know why I do.
There's a benevolent monster inside me. It doesn't get angry or mean, even sloppy. In fact it's charismatic and charming, but most of all it passes time and numbs me.
I'm just so scared I'm going to wake up one day in my fifties wondering where it all went. But at the same time I wonder what the point is. I'm weird. I'm a monster seeking a monster. I'm attractive and nice, life shouldn't be a problem. But life isn't the problem. The problem is me. I don't like most people because most people aren't like me. Drinking makes me like other people. It makes me feel human.
My friends, as good as their intentions are, either don't get it or don't want to, nor should they. This is my problem. But they're dwindling and I'm more and more alone. I need solace in some who understand what it's like, not just alcoholism but the reason I drink.
To start, I'm 37, a gay man, and single. My sister, five years younger than me, just started a family. Being the new year just past Christmas, greeting all the happy families at home certainly hasn't made it easy for me to "control my drinking" like I promised myself.
The funny thing is, that isn't even the life I want. I have terrible credit, a decent job I have luke warm feelings for, and I've never dreamed of picket fences, and I don't have a personal problem with any of that. Maybe I'm weird, but I've never sought more in someone else.
I told a couple good friends about my drinking. The best responses I've gotten are disinterested, usually saying "well just stop." Some have even taken it as a personal attack replying with, "I don't drink that much, do I?," not seeming to understand it isn't about them.
I'm sure that's common, even clich?. I don't want to be the alcoholic who projects my own problems on my friends, the one who thinks every hangover equals a problem. The ex-smoker who lectures smokers. Good people drink, and I know why I do.
There's a benevolent monster inside me. It doesn't get angry or mean, even sloppy. In fact it's charismatic and charming, but most of all it passes time and numbs me.
I'm just so scared I'm going to wake up one day in my fifties wondering where it all went. But at the same time I wonder what the point is. I'm weird. I'm a monster seeking a monster. I'm attractive and nice, life shouldn't be a problem. But life isn't the problem. The problem is me. I don't like most people because most people aren't like me. Drinking makes me like other people. It makes me feel human.
My friends, as good as their intentions are, either don't get it or don't want to, nor should they. This is my problem. But they're dwindling and I'm more and more alone. I need solace in some who understand what it's like, not just alcoholism but the reason I drink.
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