Being A Weekend Warrior
Illegitimi Non Carborundum
Thread Starter
Join Date: Jun 2006
Location: Old Home Terra
Posts: 4,272
Being A Weekend Warrior
Some of my experiences being a weekend warrior during my drinking years... More than anything, it reminds me of the progressive nature of my disease and the effects of that progression on my life...
I used to be a weekend warrior... It started out innocuously enough -- Saturday nights I'd go hit a pub or two with my friends, maybe shoot some pool or throw some darts... Chase a few skirts... Have a good old time.
At first it didn't keep me from functioning on Sundays... I'd still get up a little early and take care of things. I might have been a little tired from lack of sleep, but a short afternoon nap would take care of that and I'd still have a wonderful, refreshing day.
Then the progression took hold... Over time I'd steadily consume more beer on my "Saturday party night"... $10-$20 used to be enough -- a couple beers, some quarters for the table, maybe buy a friend a drink, perhaps grab a burger afterwards...
Over time, the amount I was spending kept steadily increasing... "Gee, it must be inflation and the rising cost of everything everywhere" -- yeah, right... I ignored the fact that I was buying myself more beer whenever I went out. I also conveniently failed to notice that I was buying other people more drinks so that they'd sit and get drunk with me, thereby enabling me.
I remember one time in particular... I was talking with my friend the next day... "I don't get it -- I had $80 in my pocket when I went out -- now that's gone and it looks like I hit the ATM around midnight, and that's gone too" ... "Dude, you kept buying pitchers -- no one else wanted anymore beer, so you kept drinking them yourself and ordering more".
About that time, I discovered credit cards... "Its not *real* money and it doesn't deplete your cash"... About that time I also discovered "instant friends"... My actual friends had steadily put some distance between us. Of course I didn't notice it. I just thought they were moving on and didn't have time anymore... They didn't stop partying -- they just stopped partying with *me*.
One day I realized that my Sundays had become a "recovery day" for me... I kept missing them. I'd sleep in until late in the afternoon, wake up feeling like total crap, and basically spend the night trying to put myself together again in time for Monday so I could face the work week... Had to "protect the supply", you see, and that meant earning some cash.
"I work hard and I play hard"... "I play hard so that I can work hard"... Self-cons... It was my disease talking, of course.
No big deal, I thought... I'm trying to get too much partying done in one night... Work is soooooo stressful, and people just don't understand all the things I have to deal with... I simply need to "spread it out a little"... Lots of folks start their weekend at "drink-thirty" on a Friday -- I don't *need* to stay late at work to catch up, or go straight home for food and rest... Two nights a week will be more fun than one night a week anyway.
By this time, pretty much no one would hang out with me... I stopped being invited to parties... If I'd try to throw a party, no one would show up... The staff at my regular haunts knew me too well, and besides, those places were getting boring anyway... Time to find some new places.
So I'd start my weekend on Friday night... If I could find a way to leave work early and hit the bar that much sooner, then I'd do it... By this time I had discovered "pre-drinking" -- hit some hole-in-the-wall gin mill first, have a few quick ones to get into the mood, and then start bar-hopping at the *real* joints, where the people are.
Still no one would hang out with me except for any "instant friends" I could find for the night along the way... Forget about playing some pool or tossing some darts -- I was *drinking* -- that was the activity. Even if I would try a game or two, I couldn't hardly shoot straight, let alone hold the table for any length of time.
At first, the "spread it out" strategy seemed to work... I'd have some fun on Friday night, feel a little woozy in the morning but I'd feel fine again by the time nightfall hit, certainly fine enough to go out again. Saturday night *was* the "main event", afterall, and it seemed like I wasn't drinking quite so much on Saturday as I used to. Well and good.
Water finds it own level, and a gas will expand to fill its container... Now I had two nights in a row to get blitzed, and my disease said "Wooo-hooo!"... I realized that I didn't have to wait until Saturday night -- Saturday afternoon was an even better time to start because I could work on my pool game over a few beers first without being bothered about holding onto the table.
All of this took a matter of years. It didn't happen overnight... The progression was steady and on-going and I don't think it ever actually let up... If I'd "go dry" for a while, it "proved" that I didn't have a problem... When I'd start up again, I'd quickly find myself right back where I started... Sunday wasn't enough "recovery time". I'd still feel like crap on Monday... then Tuesday... then it took until Wednesday before I'd feel better...
Hey, its Thursday night -- the weekend it almost here, and besides, Friday is an easy day for me... Why not start the weekend a little early?
Then I joined a bowling league. What a good way to spend "hump day" night! Break up the week a little... But oh uh, I had to work the next day... "It must be Thursday" became one of my sayings... So I stopped bowling, (no one wanted to bowl with me anymore anyway) and I switch my "Wednesday night" back to "Thursday night, but not so much".
I started as a weekend binger... It was "the norm" when I began... By the time I finally stopped, "weekend" was pretty much defined as being any day that ended with "Y". Whenever I'd go out, I simply wouldn't want the night to end. I'd find a sort of "perfect moment", a state where I'd feel like a human being, and okay and "happy", and I'd want to stretch that moment out for as long as possible. I would not want the moment or the night to end. Ever.
That's just me -- I'm not saying that's you. For me the progression was steady, and real, and overpowering... It wasn't so much that it was "unnoticeable" -- it was that I didn't *want* to notice it. If someone pointed it out to me, I had any number of "excuses" to "justify" it. I didn't even care anymore, just so long as I could keep the night going.
Protecting my "right to drink" was very important to me for a long time. Realizing it, and realizing what it was doing to me, and finally seeing the steady progression in my life for what it was... that was a central part of my accepting the fact that I am indeed an alcoholic, which was the first hurdle I had to overcome in order to start seeking recovery.
Since accepting my alcoholism, and since starting a life of recovery, I've found other ways to "feel human" again, ways which do not involve alcohol. Its as if its a skill I've had to re-learn along the way. I no longer have that "urgent desperation" to find that "moment" and stretch it out so that it never ends. Instead, I find those "moments" along the way as I live my life. Its not all "peaches and cream", but then no one ever said life would be, either.
Those "moments" are real, however. They're not based on some chemical oxidizing in my brain, and sometimes I find them in the most unexpected places.
Thank you for letting me share.
I used to be a weekend warrior... It started out innocuously enough -- Saturday nights I'd go hit a pub or two with my friends, maybe shoot some pool or throw some darts... Chase a few skirts... Have a good old time.
At first it didn't keep me from functioning on Sundays... I'd still get up a little early and take care of things. I might have been a little tired from lack of sleep, but a short afternoon nap would take care of that and I'd still have a wonderful, refreshing day.
Then the progression took hold... Over time I'd steadily consume more beer on my "Saturday party night"... $10-$20 used to be enough -- a couple beers, some quarters for the table, maybe buy a friend a drink, perhaps grab a burger afterwards...
Over time, the amount I was spending kept steadily increasing... "Gee, it must be inflation and the rising cost of everything everywhere" -- yeah, right... I ignored the fact that I was buying myself more beer whenever I went out. I also conveniently failed to notice that I was buying other people more drinks so that they'd sit and get drunk with me, thereby enabling me.
I remember one time in particular... I was talking with my friend the next day... "I don't get it -- I had $80 in my pocket when I went out -- now that's gone and it looks like I hit the ATM around midnight, and that's gone too" ... "Dude, you kept buying pitchers -- no one else wanted anymore beer, so you kept drinking them yourself and ordering more".
About that time, I discovered credit cards... "Its not *real* money and it doesn't deplete your cash"... About that time I also discovered "instant friends"... My actual friends had steadily put some distance between us. Of course I didn't notice it. I just thought they were moving on and didn't have time anymore... They didn't stop partying -- they just stopped partying with *me*.
One day I realized that my Sundays had become a "recovery day" for me... I kept missing them. I'd sleep in until late in the afternoon, wake up feeling like total crap, and basically spend the night trying to put myself together again in time for Monday so I could face the work week... Had to "protect the supply", you see, and that meant earning some cash.
"I work hard and I play hard"... "I play hard so that I can work hard"... Self-cons... It was my disease talking, of course.
No big deal, I thought... I'm trying to get too much partying done in one night... Work is soooooo stressful, and people just don't understand all the things I have to deal with... I simply need to "spread it out a little"... Lots of folks start their weekend at "drink-thirty" on a Friday -- I don't *need* to stay late at work to catch up, or go straight home for food and rest... Two nights a week will be more fun than one night a week anyway.
By this time, pretty much no one would hang out with me... I stopped being invited to parties... If I'd try to throw a party, no one would show up... The staff at my regular haunts knew me too well, and besides, those places were getting boring anyway... Time to find some new places.
So I'd start my weekend on Friday night... If I could find a way to leave work early and hit the bar that much sooner, then I'd do it... By this time I had discovered "pre-drinking" -- hit some hole-in-the-wall gin mill first, have a few quick ones to get into the mood, and then start bar-hopping at the *real* joints, where the people are.
Still no one would hang out with me except for any "instant friends" I could find for the night along the way... Forget about playing some pool or tossing some darts -- I was *drinking* -- that was the activity. Even if I would try a game or two, I couldn't hardly shoot straight, let alone hold the table for any length of time.
At first, the "spread it out" strategy seemed to work... I'd have some fun on Friday night, feel a little woozy in the morning but I'd feel fine again by the time nightfall hit, certainly fine enough to go out again. Saturday night *was* the "main event", afterall, and it seemed like I wasn't drinking quite so much on Saturday as I used to. Well and good.
Water finds it own level, and a gas will expand to fill its container... Now I had two nights in a row to get blitzed, and my disease said "Wooo-hooo!"... I realized that I didn't have to wait until Saturday night -- Saturday afternoon was an even better time to start because I could work on my pool game over a few beers first without being bothered about holding onto the table.
All of this took a matter of years. It didn't happen overnight... The progression was steady and on-going and I don't think it ever actually let up... If I'd "go dry" for a while, it "proved" that I didn't have a problem... When I'd start up again, I'd quickly find myself right back where I started... Sunday wasn't enough "recovery time". I'd still feel like crap on Monday... then Tuesday... then it took until Wednesday before I'd feel better...
Hey, its Thursday night -- the weekend it almost here, and besides, Friday is an easy day for me... Why not start the weekend a little early?
Then I joined a bowling league. What a good way to spend "hump day" night! Break up the week a little... But oh uh, I had to work the next day... "It must be Thursday" became one of my sayings... So I stopped bowling, (no one wanted to bowl with me anymore anyway) and I switch my "Wednesday night" back to "Thursday night, but not so much".
I started as a weekend binger... It was "the norm" when I began... By the time I finally stopped, "weekend" was pretty much defined as being any day that ended with "Y". Whenever I'd go out, I simply wouldn't want the night to end. I'd find a sort of "perfect moment", a state where I'd feel like a human being, and okay and "happy", and I'd want to stretch that moment out for as long as possible. I would not want the moment or the night to end. Ever.
That's just me -- I'm not saying that's you. For me the progression was steady, and real, and overpowering... It wasn't so much that it was "unnoticeable" -- it was that I didn't *want* to notice it. If someone pointed it out to me, I had any number of "excuses" to "justify" it. I didn't even care anymore, just so long as I could keep the night going.
Protecting my "right to drink" was very important to me for a long time. Realizing it, and realizing what it was doing to me, and finally seeing the steady progression in my life for what it was... that was a central part of my accepting the fact that I am indeed an alcoholic, which was the first hurdle I had to overcome in order to start seeking recovery.
Since accepting my alcoholism, and since starting a life of recovery, I've found other ways to "feel human" again, ways which do not involve alcohol. Its as if its a skill I've had to re-learn along the way. I no longer have that "urgent desperation" to find that "moment" and stretch it out so that it never ends. Instead, I find those "moments" along the way as I live my life. Its not all "peaches and cream", but then no one ever said life would be, either.
Those "moments" are real, however. They're not based on some chemical oxidizing in my brain, and sometimes I find them in the most unexpected places.
Thank you for letting me share.
Member
Join Date: Mar 2008
Location: Canada
Posts: 521
Wow...thankYOU for sharing.
Im laffin over here because I always told myself, "I work hard, so I can play hard". It was a great line/excuse.
'Till I lost my job.
Then I drown my sorrows for about a year....spent over 100G on booze and coke......
~~sigh~~
Recovery is hard....but not as hard as living like that!
Im laffin over here because I always told myself, "I work hard, so I can play hard". It was a great line/excuse.
'Till I lost my job.
Then I drown my sorrows for about a year....spent over 100G on booze and coke......
~~sigh~~
Recovery is hard....but not as hard as living like that!
Let go, let God.
Join Date: Apr 2008
Location: Canada
Posts: 244
Same type of thing is what happened to me. It all started with weekends and a loss of my Sundays. I even had myself convinced that Sunday was the day of rest, so it was okay to sleep half the day away. Thanks for sharing.
bona fido dog-lover
Join Date: Mar 2008
Location: SF Bay area, CA
Posts: 99,778
My alcoholism progressed very quickly. I started drinking a glass of wine last march to "relax" me so that I wouldn't start arguing with the kids when they came from from school. By the end of the summer I was drinking a bottle or more of wine a nite. Then I found that to quell the shakes in the morning I had to have a couple glasses of wine when I got up.
By the end of last year I was drinking all day, every day. Spending money I didn't have and losing a lot of my work due to my unreliability or feeling sick most days of the week.
Now I keep those memories fresh to dissuade me from picking up again.
By the end of last year I was drinking all day, every day. Spending money I didn't have and losing a lot of my work due to my unreliability or feeling sick most days of the week.
Now I keep those memories fresh to dissuade me from picking up again.
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