dban75
06-22-2016, 07:16 PM
I've discovered booze... The hard truth of it is it works...so far. As advertised, delivers a sense of calm in what would otherwise be a lonely room of rumination. I've read all the stories, seen the movies, and witnessed (and experienced) the true benders but this seems different. One, maybe two, drinks at lunch. Two or three more before the kids and wife come home, or shot down quickly if they are. No longer beer, wine, or cocktails. I've developed a taste for whisky. Not a taste really, rather an admiration of how quickly it works. For that matter vodka and gin do the same.
A soothing calm, doubts become confidence, bleak futures suddenly full of promise. My life, instead of being one sad episode after another, seems to be full of hope...for now.
The trick I've learned is to drink around my family. I've tried drinking alone at bars but that just led to blackouts, poor decisions and the inevitable hangover. While the headaches almost seemed worth it, it was the intense guilt and anxiety that withdrawal brought that did me in. Now if I have a couple of drinks after work, and sneak it a couple more during the day I can create a beautiful calm to carry me through the night. My family acting as some sort of barrier towards fully drunk.
Sleep, I used to dread. The nightmares and played out scenarios of the bad choices of my past. I've never read so much before bed, for such a bad reason. Reading, as much as the booze, put off the lonely dread of lying in bed in the dark...thinking. If I get the right dose I'm not so much falling asleep rather gently passing out, which helps.
Morning is still bittersweet...those 5-10 seconds when you first awake and forget why you your life is troubled. Until it hits you. The doubt, the terror of what could be, the full realization that your life, while seemingly perfect to some, is not what you dreamt of. That's when you start thinking about your first drink, the seemingly impossible combination of numbness and confidence you need to get to the next day, even if your not sure you want to.
That said, it works...for now...
............
We can likely agree that the decent into full blown addiction is on its way. Late for work, lack of interest in friends and family and my biggest motivation seems to be how long I can go in the day before I drink.
I'm reading in bed now, it's 1:30 in the afternoon and I should be at work. Misdirection is getting easy, I can always find an excuse to get away. The vodka is sitting next to me. No idea how much is there, the idea of measuring your shots seems laughable at this point. Trying not to drink it as I know the first touch will feel great. It's losing battle. The smell has reached me from the bedside table, I don't like or dislike the smell but it's starting to pull me in, triggering the part of my brain that could convince anyone of anything. I'm trying to prove to myself that I don't need it, but often the reward for waiting a half hour is drinking more. These are the deals we make and break with ourselves.
I've waited 23 minutes, that shows discipline. I'll reward myself now.
It's ****ing lovely, the initial burn is quickly replaced by a spreading warmth of confidence. You've heard all the descriptions, most more poetic than mine. We have all read enough to know that I'm in the "fun" stage of addiction. The booze makes my life livable and in turn I like living my life. I'm no fool and I'm sure this can't last, the next steps clear. The thing of it is, this is a way of life for some. Why not me? I can keep it in check, but maybe that's the drink talking.
The vodka bottle has been refilled from the party size bottle that's hidden away. Hopefully no one noticed it was suddenly gone. That can't be good, but **** it, i deserve it. We all need to reward ourselves every now again. So I take a couple drinks in the afternoon, I've seen worse. The second slug convinces me of my words. I actually think I'll get out of bed now, maybe answer those emails that have been piling up, maybe eat something. I'll be alright, I've got this under control.
A soothing calm, doubts become confidence, bleak futures suddenly full of promise. My life, instead of being one sad episode after another, seems to be full of hope...for now.
The trick I've learned is to drink around my family. I've tried drinking alone at bars but that just led to blackouts, poor decisions and the inevitable hangover. While the headaches almost seemed worth it, it was the intense guilt and anxiety that withdrawal brought that did me in. Now if I have a couple of drinks after work, and sneak it a couple more during the day I can create a beautiful calm to carry me through the night. My family acting as some sort of barrier towards fully drunk.
Sleep, I used to dread. The nightmares and played out scenarios of the bad choices of my past. I've never read so much before bed, for such a bad reason. Reading, as much as the booze, put off the lonely dread of lying in bed in the dark...thinking. If I get the right dose I'm not so much falling asleep rather gently passing out, which helps.
Morning is still bittersweet...those 5-10 seconds when you first awake and forget why you your life is troubled. Until it hits you. The doubt, the terror of what could be, the full realization that your life, while seemingly perfect to some, is not what you dreamt of. That's when you start thinking about your first drink, the seemingly impossible combination of numbness and confidence you need to get to the next day, even if your not sure you want to.
That said, it works...for now...
............
We can likely agree that the decent into full blown addiction is on its way. Late for work, lack of interest in friends and family and my biggest motivation seems to be how long I can go in the day before I drink.
I'm reading in bed now, it's 1:30 in the afternoon and I should be at work. Misdirection is getting easy, I can always find an excuse to get away. The vodka is sitting next to me. No idea how much is there, the idea of measuring your shots seems laughable at this point. Trying not to drink it as I know the first touch will feel great. It's losing battle. The smell has reached me from the bedside table, I don't like or dislike the smell but it's starting to pull me in, triggering the part of my brain that could convince anyone of anything. I'm trying to prove to myself that I don't need it, but often the reward for waiting a half hour is drinking more. These are the deals we make and break with ourselves.
I've waited 23 minutes, that shows discipline. I'll reward myself now.
It's ****ing lovely, the initial burn is quickly replaced by a spreading warmth of confidence. You've heard all the descriptions, most more poetic than mine. We have all read enough to know that I'm in the "fun" stage of addiction. The booze makes my life livable and in turn I like living my life. I'm no fool and I'm sure this can't last, the next steps clear. The thing of it is, this is a way of life for some. Why not me? I can keep it in check, but maybe that's the drink talking.
The vodka bottle has been refilled from the party size bottle that's hidden away. Hopefully no one noticed it was suddenly gone. That can't be good, but **** it, i deserve it. We all need to reward ourselves every now again. So I take a couple drinks in the afternoon, I've seen worse. The second slug convinces me of my words. I actually think I'll get out of bed now, maybe answer those emails that have been piling up, maybe eat something. I'll be alright, I've got this under control.