One day at a time
As of Sunday, July 1st, I quit alcohol. I hope so, anyway. I’ve been getting professional help from an adult recovery service for a few months but haven’t taken it too seriously. I’ve wanted to quit drinking for a long time, but I fall into a hopeless loop of getting to the weekend and wanting nothing more than to get shitfaced. That’s if I even make it to the weekend.
I’ve drunk 10 pints of lager four nights a week for many years. I’d probably drink every night if I could get away with it. I wouldn’t say I’m an alcoholic, but maybe I’m still in denial. I’ve been in denial for years. It has only been the last year or so when I’ve finally begun to concede that alcohol has a grip on me that I can’t control.
I have a ridiculously addictive personality. It’s paid off massively for my career, but it is a double-edged sword. Alcohol is one of many addictions I’ve had throughout my life. As a kid, I was addicted to football stickers and Pokemon cards. As a teenager, it was gaming, specifically World of Warcraft. As an adult, I’ve had shoes, food, clothes, gaming, drumming, fishing, and coding addictions, to name a few.
I’m extremely impulsive. I won’t think twice about buying something expensive for that little hit of dopamine. I’ll often get buyer’s remorse. I’ve also had depression for most of my adult life. I’ve been in and out of therapy for the best part of a decade. The combination of addiction, impulsiveness and depression do not go well hand in hand.
I’ve used alcohol as a coping mechanism. I know how bad it is for me and how bad it is for my mental health, but I literally cannot help myself when the impulsiveness kicks in. I’ve never wanted to admit I have a problem. Recognising it means I must stop, and honestly, I enjoy being drunk. Well, most of the time.
It’s a respite from my depression. It makes me feel human, albeit temporarily. I can express myself better. I open up and become more sociable. I can relax. The business of my brain is subdued. If I carry on this way, it will put me in an early grave. It also costs a fucking fortune.
Alcohol has become a barrier between my wife and me. I’m ashamed I drink so much when my kids go to bed. They’re none the wiser, but they’ll be old enough soon to see the piles of empty cans on a morning and being that dad makes me sad. Like, incredibly sad.
I need better coping mechanisms. I need to get fit again. I live for the days I can drink at the minute, which is pathetic. I have a wife who loves me dearly and kids who deserve the best of me. I can do this. I need to get past the first week and I’ll be flying. This week is the week, hopefully.