I’ve often tried to pin point when and why my relationship with alcohol started not being normal. Normal meaning only drinking socially and more often not drinking than drinking.
I never drank in high school, unless you count occasional sips of my mother’s 10 year old peach schnapps and southern comfort retch… My drinking experience didn’t happen until I was 18 and in college and then I still didn’t care for alcohol. I remember drinking natural ice and if I was lucky, keystone at frat parties and thinking it was the nastiest stuff out there. Around 21, I started drinking more socially. I was going to clubs with friends or boyfriends and drinking mixed drinks, which tasted so much better, since they were basically sugar and juice. After a time, I began to like alcohol and what it did to me and my mood, which was make me feel better. I would then sometimes drink at home, as opposed to going out and I would drink when I was sad or upset, I’d just drink to forget and feel better. Alcohol became my support system. This later resulted in me isolating.
I didn’t really have concerns about my drinking, until I was 25. I still drank socially, but would rather be by myself and drink alone. At this time, I was heartbroken at the loss of a relationship and I also had moved into an apartment by myself. Being alone gave me free range to do whatever I wanted and I didn’t have to answer to anyone. I was so depressed and feeling utterly alone, that I would get drunk every night and essentially pass out. On average, I drank about 4 beers and had 4 shots every night, in the span of about 3 to 6 hours. I also smoked like a chimney too, probably 10 to 12 cigarettes in one sitting. I did this for two a half years. I used alcohol because I was so crushed due to a break up, I drank to not hurt and it ended up hurting me.
So I figured it out, I drank because I was so sad to be alone and felt loss, but the result was, that I further isolated myself from new experiences and what could have been new friendships and relationships. It saddens me that I wasted that time, but I did learn something. I moved home and tried to figure out my life. I continued to have ups and downs with alcohol and would periodically reach out for help. I went 3 months before AF while I was on Antabuse in my late twenties/ early thirties, since then and besides when I was pregnant, over 5 years ago, this is one of my longest time of sobriety. I’m really trying to stick with it, but it’s hard although such is life right? I’m two years from forty and I don’t want to continue this struggle into another decade, so I’m sticking with it and not looking at the bottom of glass or a bottle.