I'm just done reading "Drink" by Ann Dowsett Johnston. I have just turned 47. I am attempting to place on my normal perky, jovial face for the world but inside I am a total mix up.
This book made me realize that I'm not alone in this world, at all. For almost forever this book keeps me companion, comforted, and help me to face my problems with alcohol. My abnormal usage of alcohol was not only "genetic susceptibility" or my lack of self-control.....my use of alcohol to relief and sustain me develop as a result of many problems in my life. Growing up was intense - my dad was a serial con artist, my mom had no self regard and overweight, disliked me was left to fight for myself more often than not. Inwardly, I was totally free.
This might sound strange, but during my high school days, alcohol never appealed to me. In any case, I went to college at a prestigious school which prided itself on its academics....and understudies prided themselves on their capacity to party. Thus started my adventure into episodic drinking and consequent terrible conduct - running from power outages, to awful aftereffects to unseemly sexual exercises.
One thing I learn at that time, that for a fat girl like me who want a sexual relation with the opposite gender, I have to be drunk as drunk as the boys, and maybe that's my chance to have it with them.
I woke up one morning, stripped in bed with some person in a fraternity house in Montreal..... I recollect and it is really a ponder I didn't get truly harmed, wind up in a doctor's facility or plastered tank or pregnant.
With time, I earned a degree and even went further while my love life wasn't left behind. We saw each other often and during such occasions wine was always present while I also got myself a bottle every week.
Fast forward'marriage, .two pregnancies, both during which I totally refrained, and did not miss it. But then as life goes on, aging parents, ADHD child, stressed workaholic husband with infuriation problems.....wine on weekends turned into wine Thursday-Sunday.
We got too much cases of wine on our home because my husband got hooked on a local "brew-your-own"'. Often we drank a bottle or two wine at evening, it was our nightly ritual'. I secretly mixed my own cocktails and hide the glass in my baking cupboard so my husband won't find it
After a hectic day at work, I return home to face domestic chores, dinner plans, getting my sick child to complete the task given to him at school and at the same time ensuring my other child does his house chore; in the midst of all these the only thought lingering within me is the wine I will take later and when the opportunity comes I drink to stupor. In the mornings, what I do first is to go through my I-phone to find out whom I may have accidentally texted while being intoxicated.
But there is more - two years ago I became entangled in a very fierce emotional affair with one of my son's ally's father. The affair never proceeded to sexual interaction (except for a few hugs and standing beside each other at sporting events) but if any of you have learnt about (or undergone) an emotional affair, the effect can be just as dramatic and powerful, if not more so than a sexual relationship. The beep of my phone which signifies the entry of a message always gave me that ecstatic sensation. Regularly, our phone conversation transpired for long durations and intermittently as well.
I was more jovial than I had ever been. When the relationship got too serious and getting close we almost crossed the sexual line, then he pulled back. I was emotionally wounded and desolate, so my use of alcohol grew.
My cocktails comforted me they assisted the infliction.
I am so embarrassed as view back over my life. The drunken episodes:
This is my recovery... having my self in counselling, reading Ann's book, discovering this website, find out people with similar stories and read theirs. I sense like I am heading home.