how it ends.
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Mar 2013
Location: In transit.
Posts: 88
how it ends.
I want to write this out in gory detail and bookmark it if I am ever, ever, ever tempted to drink again. From where I sit this morning, it is impossible to imagine ever wanting to touch the stuff again in my life, but I know this beast all too well now and I know how I start to romanticize it after a little time goes by. If you're triggered by drinking details, read no further.
It seemed so harmless last Thursday...just a pint with friends, and my favorite beer was on tap. I would only have one or two and then I could quit for real. It would be a better send-off to my old buddy alcohol to have a really nice beer than that cheap awful wine I put away when I last quit a couple of weeks ago. Or was it the straight vodka from the back of the freezer? Or was that the time I quit before that? I can't seem to remember. Anyway, yeah, I was driving so I couldn't really drink, it would be fine. Just a pint out with friends, like normal people.
Halfway through the second pint I start feeling good but also twitchy about the logistics of the evening: I'm obviously going to need more, a lot more. I need to secure an infinite supply to get me through the night. How am I going to only have two all night? That's just ridiculous. By the end of the second glass I have a solid plan: I'll say my goodbyes early and then pick up a six pack on my way home. Just this one last time. Oh, okay, one more pint for the road, if you're buying!
I probably shouldn't be driving after that third pint, I should have had some food and waited a bit, but I had to leave as soon as I could...I couldn't sacrifice my buzz by waiting around and, what, drinking water? Is that what people do? Whatever. I am at the service of the buzz, nothing else matters. I swerve a little and overcorrect, and my heart races for a minute. Whew! This is stressful! That seals the deal--I am definitely going to need a beer when I get home.
I pick up the beer. The cashier asks if I need a bag and when I say no, she laughs and says "well, don't start drinking it in the parking lot!" I'm hit with a wave of shame and guilt. I get home and the shame is lifted as I pull out the bottle. The feeling of security and well-being I have when I pop open that first one is so profound--and there are five more of them waiting for me! I feel relaxed for the first time.
I start watching mindless TV, ignoring the overdue work project I desperately need to work on. As I go to the fridge to open the third bottle, I am hit by a new wave of anxiety--this totally isn't going to be enough for the night. But I'm definitely too sloshed to drive now. What am I going to do? I decide to just keep drinking and reevaluate my options when I'm out of beer.
My mom always has a few bottles of chardonnay in the fridge, and it's not my favorite but what's a girl to do? I'll just have to replace it before she notices it's missing. I pop it open and only make it through one glass before I pass out fully dressed on the couch.
It's 4am and I feel like I have been hit by a truck. There's not enough water in the world to relieve my encompassing thirst. I pour the rest of the chardonnay down the drain and it smells so toxic and awful I almost pass out. Man, I really need to quit. This is out of control. I try to go back to sleep, and can't. I realize I haven't eaten in a long time, so I go out to grab some breakfast. I feel a terrible wave of stress about my unfinished work, and the realization that I am going to be in no shape to write today so hungover. At the store, I find myself walking over to get a six pack of beer before I even know what is happening. Well, okay, yeah, that makes sense. I'll feel better if I have some beer. Just to get through the day.
And here I am, three days later. I've spent the morning checking my sent text messages and call log and facebook to determine the damage from last night and try to piece everything together. I neglected to feed the cats and am not sure if I took the dog out--probably not. I passed out in the middle of a conversation with a friend. I spilled wine on the couch. I had worked through all the chardonnay in the house so I was onto old bottles of red, awful syrupy merlot. So it's a good stain, too. I am out of breath and sick to my stomach, and my head is pounding and my eyes can't focus very well. I finished no work all weekend and I've really jeopardized my job. I am so ashamed of what I have done to my body and mind and how far I have gone down this road. I think about my alcoholic father when he was my age and how terrified I always was of becoming like him.
The next time I start fantasizing about that pint, I want to remember: this is how it ends. It never ends any other way. It is never, ever safe for me to drink. Not just "one," not just a beer with friends. Never. Nothing, ever again.
It seemed so harmless last Thursday...just a pint with friends, and my favorite beer was on tap. I would only have one or two and then I could quit for real. It would be a better send-off to my old buddy alcohol to have a really nice beer than that cheap awful wine I put away when I last quit a couple of weeks ago. Or was it the straight vodka from the back of the freezer? Or was that the time I quit before that? I can't seem to remember. Anyway, yeah, I was driving so I couldn't really drink, it would be fine. Just a pint out with friends, like normal people.
Halfway through the second pint I start feeling good but also twitchy about the logistics of the evening: I'm obviously going to need more, a lot more. I need to secure an infinite supply to get me through the night. How am I going to only have two all night? That's just ridiculous. By the end of the second glass I have a solid plan: I'll say my goodbyes early and then pick up a six pack on my way home. Just this one last time. Oh, okay, one more pint for the road, if you're buying!
I probably shouldn't be driving after that third pint, I should have had some food and waited a bit, but I had to leave as soon as I could...I couldn't sacrifice my buzz by waiting around and, what, drinking water? Is that what people do? Whatever. I am at the service of the buzz, nothing else matters. I swerve a little and overcorrect, and my heart races for a minute. Whew! This is stressful! That seals the deal--I am definitely going to need a beer when I get home.
I pick up the beer. The cashier asks if I need a bag and when I say no, she laughs and says "well, don't start drinking it in the parking lot!" I'm hit with a wave of shame and guilt. I get home and the shame is lifted as I pull out the bottle. The feeling of security and well-being I have when I pop open that first one is so profound--and there are five more of them waiting for me! I feel relaxed for the first time.
I start watching mindless TV, ignoring the overdue work project I desperately need to work on. As I go to the fridge to open the third bottle, I am hit by a new wave of anxiety--this totally isn't going to be enough for the night. But I'm definitely too sloshed to drive now. What am I going to do? I decide to just keep drinking and reevaluate my options when I'm out of beer.
My mom always has a few bottles of chardonnay in the fridge, and it's not my favorite but what's a girl to do? I'll just have to replace it before she notices it's missing. I pop it open and only make it through one glass before I pass out fully dressed on the couch.
It's 4am and I feel like I have been hit by a truck. There's not enough water in the world to relieve my encompassing thirst. I pour the rest of the chardonnay down the drain and it smells so toxic and awful I almost pass out. Man, I really need to quit. This is out of control. I try to go back to sleep, and can't. I realize I haven't eaten in a long time, so I go out to grab some breakfast. I feel a terrible wave of stress about my unfinished work, and the realization that I am going to be in no shape to write today so hungover. At the store, I find myself walking over to get a six pack of beer before I even know what is happening. Well, okay, yeah, that makes sense. I'll feel better if I have some beer. Just to get through the day.
And here I am, three days later. I've spent the morning checking my sent text messages and call log and facebook to determine the damage from last night and try to piece everything together. I neglected to feed the cats and am not sure if I took the dog out--probably not. I passed out in the middle of a conversation with a friend. I spilled wine on the couch. I had worked through all the chardonnay in the house so I was onto old bottles of red, awful syrupy merlot. So it's a good stain, too. I am out of breath and sick to my stomach, and my head is pounding and my eyes can't focus very well. I finished no work all weekend and I've really jeopardized my job. I am so ashamed of what I have done to my body and mind and how far I have gone down this road. I think about my alcoholic father when he was my age and how terrified I always was of becoming like him.
The next time I start fantasizing about that pint, I want to remember: this is how it ends. It never ends any other way. It is never, ever safe for me to drink. Not just "one," not just a beer with friends. Never. Nothing, ever again.
Recognizes the Beast
Join Date: Nov 2012
Location: In the kitchen, cooking up a storm
Posts: 704
I don't know if you're working on project involving writing, but you do it darn well!
Beautifully articulated. I know that feeling so well and have always been to ashamed to express it.
I am at the service of the buzz, nothing else matters.
Forum Leader
Join Date: May 2012
Location: Wisconsin, USA
Posts: 16,945
Thanks for the reminder and good luck on picking up the pieces. What have you been using for support up until this point? What's going to stop you from meeting your friends again for "just one" this thursday?
Self recovered Self discovered
Join Date: Aug 2011
Location: Toronto Canada
Posts: 5,148
You are looking at this period as an end to things, but I hope you can turn your gaze forward looking, and decide that this is actually a beginning, a very positive, life affirming time for you.
You have almost unlimited possibilities once you have made that promise to yourself to become you. Onward!
You have almost unlimited possibilities once you have made that promise to yourself to become you. Onward!
Member
Join Date: Oct 2011
Location: Ireland
Posts: 300
Really enjoyed your post gwenny.
I have to say I roared with laughter throughout - not at you personally let me say - because this is EXACTLY the way my reasoning works too. So insanely stupid, I recognise the stupidity as I read it yet when I'm in the throes of it myself it all feels so sane and reasonable and logical.
Also agree with nomis about the wonderful expression.
I have to say I roared with laughter throughout - not at you personally let me say - because this is EXACTLY the way my reasoning works too. So insanely stupid, I recognise the stupidity as I read it yet when I'm in the throes of it myself it all feels so sane and reasonable and logical.
Also agree with nomis about the wonderful expression.
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Mar 2013
Location: In transit.
Posts: 88
Thanks so much for the support and kind words, everyone. SR is definitely my core source of support at the moment. I am in an isolated small town where there is only one weekly Saturday meeting, but I may try to find a meeting tonight within driving distance. If not that, then definitely lots of reading and posting here. 
Member
Join Date: Sep 2012
Location: Gulf Coast, Florida USA
Posts: 5,731
Its the first drink we need to avoid, The first drink is the one that sets off the craving. We are not like normal people , We have an allergy to alcohol. Normal drinkers can have one and stop. Whenever we put any alcohol in our systems at any time our body chemistry reacts differently than others. It sets off an unsatisfiable craving. Big Book Audio MP3
Listen to this link on Dr Opinion
Both Linked with permission of AA World Services, inc
A.A. Recovery - The Missing Piece: The Spiritual Malady
Before we pick up we have an obsession in our mind that tells us this time it will be different. This time I will just have one. i must have this.
There is something behind that obsession alcoholics are restless irritable and discontented until they can again feel the ease and comfort that comes from taking a drink. It is called the Spiritual Malady.
Big Book Audio MP3
Listen to thismore on Dr Opinion
Linked with permission of AA World Services, inc
Listen to this link on Dr Opinion
Both Linked with permission of AA World Services, inc
A.A. Recovery - The Missing Piece: The Spiritual Malady
Before we pick up we have an obsession in our mind that tells us this time it will be different. This time I will just have one. i must have this.
There is something behind that obsession alcoholics are restless irritable and discontented until they can again feel the ease and comfort that comes from taking a drink. It is called the Spiritual Malady.
Big Book Audio MP3
Listen to thismore on Dr Opinion
Linked with permission of AA World Services, inc
Member
Join Date: Feb 2013
Location: MPLS, MN
Posts: 164
Wow. That sounds all too familiar. It reminds me of my last few months when I was attempting to control my drinking. I would swing by the bar after work and just have two pints. Sometimes I made it home and then later to bed without breaking my "two pint" rule (as in only 2 pints or a bomber when I drink) but if I did my mind would be demanding more thus leaving me preoccupied and cranky. But sometimes I would feel too good and then after my two pints I would swing by the liquor store and get a bomber and usually when that happened my control would be weak and who knows if I would stop after that. I figured two pints or a bomber would just be enough to put out the fire but also not get me drunk enough where I would feel groggy/hungover when it wore off but we alcoholics know that the urge just doesn't go away once you start. I thought I could master it, then I thought I could just get by then one day I woke up hungover, went to work, someone gave me a couple bottled beers for helping him with a project and I brought them into the bathroom and slammed them, you know, just to ease the hangover. I knew I had to stop there because I was suppose to take my little girl to tumbling class. But I stopped at the liq anyways, got a bomber and drank it. Ended up taking her to class, driving her to class. I was in no condition to do this. After her class I went to the liq again, with her in my arms, got two bombers drove home and drank them both before my wife got home. I was sitting there on the couch guzzling beer while my 1.5 year old was playing on the floor when I knew this was it. This was my "how it ends" moment. There is no way I am going to control this. It's over. Woke up the next morning after a night of confessions to my wife and went to an AA meeting and declared myself an alcoholic and a,huge amount weight was lifted off. 4 months later and more weight lifted off I still have that day seared onto my brain and I suspect I always will.
You're a good writer. Do you have a blog or diary? When I first started to quit/control my drinking I started a private blog and I look back at it from time to time to read my adventures. Currently I feel pretty confident in my ability to abstain but I still understand that complacency is not a good thing for alcoholics so little trips down memory lane reminds me of what I am like when I was a drinker.
You're a good writer. Do you have a blog or diary? When I first started to quit/control my drinking I started a private blog and I look back at it from time to time to read my adventures. Currently I feel pretty confident in my ability to abstain but I still understand that complacency is not a good thing for alcoholics so little trips down memory lane reminds me of what I am like when I was a drinker.
Member
Join Date: Apr 2013
Location: Canada
Posts: 3,996
Originally Posted by nomis 
I don't know if you're working on project involving writing, but you do it darn well!
Beautifully articulated. I know that feeling so well and have always been to ashamed to express it.
Beautifully articulated. I know that feeling so well and have always been to ashamed to express it.
I understand as many do, I'm sure, that terrible anxiety when running out of booze...
I've had plenty of red wine stains on the couch, rug, I'm ashamed to admit.
I know this is probably the least of your concerns at present, but I found steaming the stain out seems to do the trick.
Take care, and be kind to yourself as you move forward from this point.
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