Shhh... I was a Highly Functional Alcoholic...
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Join Date: Aug 2011
Location: Smiley, Tx
Posts: 9
Shhh... I was a Highly Functional Alcoholic...
I’m an HFA (High-Functioning Alcoholic). Who knew?
No one. Sometimes that’s the point. Secrecy, silent suffering and deadly choices all whirl towards the alcoholic drain that becomes the high-functioning alcoholic’s destiny.
The secrecy is intentional. At first, it was a desire to hide the alcoholic consumption from my business partner and neighbors. I thought of my drinking as a welcome escape from the pressures of self-employment, the challenges of living alone and facing my ‘golden years’, which were starting to appear hopelessly tarnished.
I’m naturally kind of legalistic. I always liked to follow the rules and I was happy to set rules: rules for myself and rules for my classes. My first handout to any class used to be a whole page of them! I have no recollection of when I started to ignore the basic rules of honesty. It was so subtle that I had no clue when I crossed the line between secrecy and self-deception.
If the limited exposure I’ve had to HFAs around the table is any sign, I’d say there are far more HFAs in the halls of AA than not. The days of conveniently identifying the drunk are gone with the likes of Otis of Mayberry.
I don’t know what that means for you, but for me, it means that anyone I come into contact with may be a secret HFA. There’s no club membership card, no secret handshake, no intimate signal.
It’s a secret, remember? You might be in a work group with one, you might be next door to one, you might live with one—you might be one and not know. In fact, in typical HFA fashion, you might be the last to know. I was.
The following was excerpted from comments by Chaz. He has a great site: One Direction–Forward
The sharing I heard in the rooms of AA really helped me to recognize, accept, and admit how dishonest I had become. Hearing others became a pathway I could follow to ‘come out’ as a liar. The reflexive pain of regret over having become such a person always found ways to excuse, dismiss, avoid, or simply flinch from even touching on the possibility of dealing the subject.When I heard others who came to know and respect get up and admit their sick dishonesty, it was like having warm, soothing, healing oil poured over my aching heart. I knew right away that if they could do it, so could I. And eventually I did. Some of it publicly, but all of it unedited in private step 4′s with sponsors and even, one time, a priest… even though I am not catholic.
That was the most painful thing for me… how dishonest I became. I would always fool myself by lying with the belief that one day I would tell the truth about what I did, “a year ago” so the impact of the wrong wouldn’t be as bad… and I had proven myself reliable given that this would be my last lie before I ramped up for a year of truth-telling to soften the blow of my eventual confession.
Problem is that I never made it too far along the year of honesty journey before I lied again about my drinking.
In my experience, we lie as a result of some quick math we do in our subconscious that comes to the conclusion that the pain of lying will be less than the pain of telling the truth…. and we simply choose what we believe is the easier way.
Alcoholism helped change this fundamentally honest person into a repeat, habitual liar. That’s how powerful it is.
No one. Sometimes that’s the point. Secrecy, silent suffering and deadly choices all whirl towards the alcoholic drain that becomes the high-functioning alcoholic’s destiny.
The secrecy is intentional. At first, it was a desire to hide the alcoholic consumption from my business partner and neighbors. I thought of my drinking as a welcome escape from the pressures of self-employment, the challenges of living alone and facing my ‘golden years’, which were starting to appear hopelessly tarnished.
I’m naturally kind of legalistic. I always liked to follow the rules and I was happy to set rules: rules for myself and rules for my classes. My first handout to any class used to be a whole page of them! I have no recollection of when I started to ignore the basic rules of honesty. It was so subtle that I had no clue when I crossed the line between secrecy and self-deception.
If the limited exposure I’ve had to HFAs around the table is any sign, I’d say there are far more HFAs in the halls of AA than not. The days of conveniently identifying the drunk are gone with the likes of Otis of Mayberry.
I don’t know what that means for you, but for me, it means that anyone I come into contact with may be a secret HFA. There’s no club membership card, no secret handshake, no intimate signal.
It’s a secret, remember? You might be in a work group with one, you might be next door to one, you might live with one—you might be one and not know. In fact, in typical HFA fashion, you might be the last to know. I was.
The following was excerpted from comments by Chaz. He has a great site: One Direction–Forward
The sharing I heard in the rooms of AA really helped me to recognize, accept, and admit how dishonest I had become. Hearing others became a pathway I could follow to ‘come out’ as a liar. The reflexive pain of regret over having become such a person always found ways to excuse, dismiss, avoid, or simply flinch from even touching on the possibility of dealing the subject.When I heard others who came to know and respect get up and admit their sick dishonesty, it was like having warm, soothing, healing oil poured over my aching heart. I knew right away that if they could do it, so could I. And eventually I did. Some of it publicly, but all of it unedited in private step 4′s with sponsors and even, one time, a priest… even though I am not catholic.
That was the most painful thing for me… how dishonest I became. I would always fool myself by lying with the belief that one day I would tell the truth about what I did, “a year ago” so the impact of the wrong wouldn’t be as bad… and I had proven myself reliable given that this would be my last lie before I ramped up for a year of truth-telling to soften the blow of my eventual confession.
Problem is that I never made it too far along the year of honesty journey before I lied again about my drinking.
In my experience, we lie as a result of some quick math we do in our subconscious that comes to the conclusion that the pain of lying will be less than the pain of telling the truth…. and we simply choose what we believe is the easier way.
Alcoholism helped change this fundamentally honest person into a repeat, habitual liar. That’s how powerful it is.
Member
Join Date: Oct 2011
Location: UK
Posts: 5,678
Originally Posted by Jazzloonz 
I don’t know what that means for you, but for me, it means that anyone I come into contact with may be a secret HFA. There’s no club membership card, no secret handshake, no intimate signal.
No half measures
Join Date: Jul 2013
Location: State of Confusion
Posts: 424
The longer I am sober the less funtional I realize I was. In fact I was barely functioning at all. It is only when I had something to compare it to did I see how alcohol had complete control. I think high functioining and alcoholic are a contradiction in terms
Member
Join Date: Aug 2013
Posts: 544
Friend-
The only person you were "fooling" was yourself.
Here is recap of what I did last Friday, day 354 of my sobriety, or what I regard as a "highly functional" day.
Be Encouraged!
10th August, 2013-
…..4:27pm
A twenty-two hour day.
Yesterday was a FULL day of activity. So full, that I just now have the time (and the strength) to type in my journal.
The day began with my alarm clock going off bright and early at 5:30am….in the mountains of Pigeon Forge TN. I laid there for ten minutes wishing for another day of vacation. It didn’t come so I got up and started packing. By 6:30am I had my little family packed and on the road, leaving the cabin behind in better shape than we found it.
By 1:30pm Karen and I had delivered William to his grand parent’s house, who live on the south side of Indianapolis.
By 3pm Karen and I were at our home, with trailer in tow.
By 6:30pm the weeds had been pulled, the grass had been cut, the edges had been trimmed, the mower had been cleaned, my motorcycle had been washed, all the mail had been retrieved, Kevin had picked up the truck and trailer, all of the clothes had been unpacked, washed, dried and folded and I was hoping in the shower.
At 9:27pm, one hundred and twenty seven miles further north of my home, I arrived in Fort Wayne IN, via my Harley Davidson motorcycle.
By 10:05pm, Rae and I were on stage singing and playing.
By 1:45am, I was heading BACK to Indianapolis on my motorcycle.
At 3:50am....127 miles later and finally in bed, I set my alarm for 8am.
The only person you were "fooling" was yourself.
Here is recap of what I did last Friday, day 354 of my sobriety, or what I regard as a "highly functional" day.
Be Encouraged!
10th August, 2013-
…..4:27pm
A twenty-two hour day.
Yesterday was a FULL day of activity. So full, that I just now have the time (and the strength) to type in my journal.
The day began with my alarm clock going off bright and early at 5:30am….in the mountains of Pigeon Forge TN. I laid there for ten minutes wishing for another day of vacation. It didn’t come so I got up and started packing. By 6:30am I had my little family packed and on the road, leaving the cabin behind in better shape than we found it.
By 1:30pm Karen and I had delivered William to his grand parent’s house, who live on the south side of Indianapolis.
By 3pm Karen and I were at our home, with trailer in tow.
By 6:30pm the weeds had been pulled, the grass had been cut, the edges had been trimmed, the mower had been cleaned, my motorcycle had been washed, all the mail had been retrieved, Kevin had picked up the truck and trailer, all of the clothes had been unpacked, washed, dried and folded and I was hoping in the shower.
At 9:27pm, one hundred and twenty seven miles further north of my home, I arrived in Fort Wayne IN, via my Harley Davidson motorcycle.
By 10:05pm, Rae and I were on stage singing and playing.
By 1:45am, I was heading BACK to Indianapolis on my motorcycle.
At 3:50am....127 miles later and finally in bed, I set my alarm for 8am.
Member
Join Date: Mar 2013
Posts: 6,224
Welcome Jazzloonz. Quite a lot of us convinced ourselves we were highly functioning alcoholics, I know I thought that because I ran my own business and household, got up and went to work everyday -- I thought I must be highly functioning. In message #3 here wakko says it all.
You've come to the right place, SR will be a big help if you are ready to make a change.
You've come to the right place, SR will be a big help if you are ready to make a change.
Member
Join Date: Apr 2012
Location: northern michigan. not the U.P.
Posts: 15,281
wheteher I hid it from others or not, continued to do the daily things that needed to be done or not, I was still a practicing alcoholic. my thinkin was no different than that of the skidrow bum nor the high society butterfly.
Member
Join Date: Aug 2013
Location: Thailand
Posts: 824
Yes it's ****** up - I run my own business have staff etc and this year I've generated a huge amount of revenue for the business.
Meanwhile my heroin addiction has completely gone out of control and I've basically tripled my intake from last year. All the time ( until now) kidding myself it was all ok - look at what money I've brought in. Now the fog is clearing I realize just how ****** up I've been. Scary to think of starting again.
Meanwhile my heroin addiction has completely gone out of control and I've basically tripled my intake from last year. All the time ( until now) kidding myself it was all ok - look at what money I've brought in. Now the fog is clearing I realize just how ****** up I've been. Scary to think of starting again.
My brain is trying to kill me
Join Date: Sep 2011
Location: Palo Alto, ca
Posts: 401
Highly functional alcoholic was a label I gave myself as an excuse to continue the downward spiral of my disease. HFA = Denial, Denial = Irrational thought, Irrational thought = Insanity.Insanity is the doorway to death.
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