I just realized I should have put my story here instead of on the newbie forum, so here it is repeated. If you've already read it, forgive me.
How long can you make excuses? How long can you cover up what permeates your daydreams, decides your route home from work, controls your every thought. How long can you hide from everyone what they already know? And let?s face it ? you really aren?t doing that good of a job.
This is my story. I grew up in a small town that was dry, and never knew anyone who drank. It wasn?t until I was about 20 and moved to the big city that I was faced with booze. Actually not booze ? because I couldn?t stand the smell of liquor ? but beer. I got married and my husband was a drinker and I was just SO DISGUSTED! How could he drink beer after beer after beer? Was he really that thirsty? I used to ask him ? ?If it was Pepsi, would you drink 12 of them??
Oh, how smug I was. It embarrasses me now to think of those days. We eventually divorced, I met someone else and then it started. I had a beer. Hmm ? not bad. And so I had another. And another. And then I was buying it and keeping it in my own fridge; the very thing I swore I would never do.
Fast forward to a few years ago where (overnight, it seemed) I was drinking every day. I had no power over my own self. And I just don?t know how it happened.
If you are here, and you?re a beer drinker, you have experienced at least one of these ? so don?t even try and deny it.
You hide beer cans under the other recycling items.
You hide empty beer cans in your car ? probably in the back seat, and in a spare plastic bag, so that when you go to the next store you can put the bag in the trashcan outside the store.
You might alternate the stores you go to so that they don?t think you have a problem.
OR ?
You plan your route home from work to go by your favorite store ? and the clerk at the store knows you when you go in.
You eat either peanut butter, chocolate, or even a bite of raw onion before your SO comes home so that if they want to kiss you, you won?t smell like beer. (Gum doesn?t work anymore)
You look for any excuse whatsoever to volunteer to go to the store, and while you?re out, you go by the convenience store and buy more beer.
You go into the bathroom or garage or closet to open the beer so that nobody hears that familiar "pop-a-top" sound.
You use up a lot of gas driving around so you can finish your beer before you get home.
You figure out a LOT of creative ways to get and spend the money so that nobody knows.
So now I imagine you?ve got this smarmy look on your face, thinking ?I?m not THAT bad!? Well, maybe you aren?t but I am. I?ve done every single one of those things. And I denied for years that I had a problem, while the whole time it was growing and growing until finally it was bigger than I was.
So in late March of this year, I decided I had had enough. I found this website and read everything I could. Friday, March 24, my husband and I went to dinner and I tried to talk to him. I told him that I was worried about how much I drank, and was going to try and cut down. He was confused but told me to do whatever I needed to do. Whew! What a relief.
The next day was Saturday and I had to work a few hours, but after work I went to the VitaminShoppe and bought some Kudzu, some l-Glutamine, and some GABA. These were supplements that I had seen mentioned on the site and thought they might help. I left the store and immediately went to buy some beer.
Then I got a call from my husband. He was playing golf with a friend. On a whim, I decided to go out and join him on the course. I drove to where he was, had a Marshal take me to the hole they were on, and I joined up with him and his friends. We had a good ol? time. On hole #10, my life changed. Short story is this: we hit a bump, I flew out of the cart, and it ran over me. Immediately we could tell something horrible had happened because my foot was pointing in a very freaky and totally unnatural position; so my husband got me in the truck and sped to the hospital. Fortunately they were able to take me right back and get the x-rays. My ankle was broken, the heel bone was dislocated, all nerves were stripped away with the bone that dislocated, and all tendons were torn. I was transferred by ambulance to a larger hospital and taken straight into surgery. After a few days in the hospital, I went home.
So now I?m in the bed, it?s the next Wednesday and I wake up thinking ? holy smoke, it?s been like 3 days since I had anything to drink! Fortunately we have laptops and wireless internet, so I was able to get on the site ? posted my story (thru a pain-pill fog) and then started a month of self-imposed sobriety. All was good.
Well, I hate smugness. There?s nothing more annoying than someone who thinks they know all the answers just because they?ve had a few days of success with something. It?s not until you?ve had a few YEARS of success that you can comfortably resume the confidence (cockiness?) of a reformed addict. A month of being sober does NOT make you an expert on the subject.
I got well, and I got back in the car, and I went to the store. And yep, I resumed my former life and THEN some. Now it has been three months and I am as bad (maybe worse?) as I was before. And I am so tired of it. I?m tired of hiding. I?m tired of pretending. I?m tired of smelling like beer. I?m tired of spending the money on beer. I?m even tired of not even being able to get a good buzz, because it takes more and more and MORE to get it!
So I?m back. Humbled, broken, wanting to change but afraid of breaking the habit because it?s MY habit and truthfully, I?m just as addicted to the routine as I am the beer.
I know I need help and this time, I?m going to get it. I can?t do it myself, and so I?m going to the doctor next week and will try to drum up enough courage to ask for the Topa. If I can?t get it, I?ll just go to Plan B. Problem is, I just don?t know what Plan B is right now.
How long can you make excuses? How long can you cover up what permeates your daydreams, decides your route home from work, controls your every thought. How long can you hide from everyone what they already know? And let?s face it ? you really aren?t doing that good of a job.
This is my story. I grew up in a small town that was dry, and never knew anyone who drank. It wasn?t until I was about 20 and moved to the big city that I was faced with booze. Actually not booze ? because I couldn?t stand the smell of liquor ? but beer. I got married and my husband was a drinker and I was just SO DISGUSTED! How could he drink beer after beer after beer? Was he really that thirsty? I used to ask him ? ?If it was Pepsi, would you drink 12 of them??
Oh, how smug I was. It embarrasses me now to think of those days. We eventually divorced, I met someone else and then it started. I had a beer. Hmm ? not bad. And so I had another. And another. And then I was buying it and keeping it in my own fridge; the very thing I swore I would never do.
Fast forward to a few years ago where (overnight, it seemed) I was drinking every day. I had no power over my own self. And I just don?t know how it happened.
If you are here, and you?re a beer drinker, you have experienced at least one of these ? so don?t even try and deny it.
You hide beer cans under the other recycling items.
You hide empty beer cans in your car ? probably in the back seat, and in a spare plastic bag, so that when you go to the next store you can put the bag in the trashcan outside the store.
You might alternate the stores you go to so that they don?t think you have a problem.
OR ?
You plan your route home from work to go by your favorite store ? and the clerk at the store knows you when you go in.
You eat either peanut butter, chocolate, or even a bite of raw onion before your SO comes home so that if they want to kiss you, you won?t smell like beer. (Gum doesn?t work anymore)
You look for any excuse whatsoever to volunteer to go to the store, and while you?re out, you go by the convenience store and buy more beer.
You go into the bathroom or garage or closet to open the beer so that nobody hears that familiar "pop-a-top" sound.
You use up a lot of gas driving around so you can finish your beer before you get home.
You figure out a LOT of creative ways to get and spend the money so that nobody knows.
So now I imagine you?ve got this smarmy look on your face, thinking ?I?m not THAT bad!? Well, maybe you aren?t but I am. I?ve done every single one of those things. And I denied for years that I had a problem, while the whole time it was growing and growing until finally it was bigger than I was.
So in late March of this year, I decided I had had enough. I found this website and read everything I could. Friday, March 24, my husband and I went to dinner and I tried to talk to him. I told him that I was worried about how much I drank, and was going to try and cut down. He was confused but told me to do whatever I needed to do. Whew! What a relief.
The next day was Saturday and I had to work a few hours, but after work I went to the VitaminShoppe and bought some Kudzu, some l-Glutamine, and some GABA. These were supplements that I had seen mentioned on the site and thought they might help. I left the store and immediately went to buy some beer.
Then I got a call from my husband. He was playing golf with a friend. On a whim, I decided to go out and join him on the course. I drove to where he was, had a Marshal take me to the hole they were on, and I joined up with him and his friends. We had a good ol? time. On hole #10, my life changed. Short story is this: we hit a bump, I flew out of the cart, and it ran over me. Immediately we could tell something horrible had happened because my foot was pointing in a very freaky and totally unnatural position; so my husband got me in the truck and sped to the hospital. Fortunately they were able to take me right back and get the x-rays. My ankle was broken, the heel bone was dislocated, all nerves were stripped away with the bone that dislocated, and all tendons were torn. I was transferred by ambulance to a larger hospital and taken straight into surgery. After a few days in the hospital, I went home.
So now I?m in the bed, it?s the next Wednesday and I wake up thinking ? holy smoke, it?s been like 3 days since I had anything to drink! Fortunately we have laptops and wireless internet, so I was able to get on the site ? posted my story (thru a pain-pill fog) and then started a month of self-imposed sobriety. All was good.
Well, I hate smugness. There?s nothing more annoying than someone who thinks they know all the answers just because they?ve had a few days of success with something. It?s not until you?ve had a few YEARS of success that you can comfortably resume the confidence (cockiness?) of a reformed addict. A month of being sober does NOT make you an expert on the subject.
I got well, and I got back in the car, and I went to the store. And yep, I resumed my former life and THEN some. Now it has been three months and I am as bad (maybe worse?) as I was before. And I am so tired of it. I?m tired of hiding. I?m tired of pretending. I?m tired of smelling like beer. I?m tired of spending the money on beer. I?m even tired of not even being able to get a good buzz, because it takes more and more and MORE to get it!
So I?m back. Humbled, broken, wanting to change but afraid of breaking the habit because it?s MY habit and truthfully, I?m just as addicted to the routine as I am the beer.
I know I need help and this time, I?m going to get it. I can?t do it myself, and so I?m going to the doctor next week and will try to drum up enough courage to ask for the Topa. If I can?t get it, I?ll just go to Plan B. Problem is, I just don?t know what Plan B is right now.
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