Am I An Alcoholic? Or Do I Just Enjoy Drinking?
Let me start by saying, I’m not an alcoholic, I just like to party. At least, that’s what I thought after my first DUI charge and subsequent sentence. You see, I wasn’t a regular drinker until later than life – I experienced the opposite of arrested development. Maybe this was a delay in social development? I can say, though, the rare times I did drink throughout my twenties, I would gradually drink to excess. It wasn’t that I was trying to escape any trauma, I just didn’t want the party to end! Plus, I was freaking HILARIOUS and a very talented singer/dancer/daredevil when I had a good buzz going - allegedly. In 2006, my then husband and I bought a boat, and, along with our pre-teen daughter, we started hanging out on the local lake every weekend (Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday.) This cranked things up a notch! For the next five years, we would load up the boat with ice and beer/wine/any alcohol on the planet and set off for the each weekend day. We lived close by, so we could leave the boat in the water and come back the next day. We would just have to buy more booze and ice! We would usually anchor at a party hub called The Sandbar, which was a great place to mingle. On a good day there were about 50-100 boats out there and a ton of people. We would all share our drinks, because that’s what good neighbors do. During the off season we would hang out with our lake friends, taking turns at each other’s house. The strange thing was that as time went on, the alcohol would hit me harder. I would fall asleep (pass out) earlier each evening or afternoon. I couldn’t remember key parts of the day after a certain point. But it wasn’t like I was doing that every day, just on weekends and maybe special occasions. That’s a big maybe, as our families weren’t big drinkers. People were astonished when I would go through a twelve pack inside of a day – I just figured the beer I drank was watery, I drank alcohol like I did water, or (insert any other excuse here.) In 2011, my husband and I split up. I was heartbroken, so naturally I would go out with friends to “drown my sorrows” – now I had something to drink over! It really didn’t matter to me, I just didn’t want to be alone. I dated a few different guys, and I got serious very quickly. I was always jazzed when I met a guy and we could go toe-to-toe, drink-for-drink. I still didn’t have a problem though, I was straight as an arrow at work and didn’t drink every day. In December of that same year, I met someone, or should I say “re-met” someone. He was a guy I sort of knew on the periphery since we were in elementary school. Now HE could drink – but I didn’t realize the extent until a few months in. I fell head over heels for him, we had so much in common, and I could be MYSELF with him. A few months in, I realized what a huge alcoholic he was – I’d excused his not having a license for the last eight years away. I’d excused his waking up at 6 am, drinking until he passed out at 9 am, waking up, and repeating the cycle all day. I was in a relationship, but I was more alone than ever. The worst part was I moved to be closer to him, because I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. In case you hadn’t realized it, this is a textbook rebound relationship, friends. We split up, or I should say, I finally got sick of his constant drinking, cheating (albeit via the internet because, well, he couldn’t drive – he even took a bus to his six figure a year job in IT.) I was physically alone again, in a new town. I started going to a local bar and – somehow it happened again – I ran into a guy I knew from high school. You can guess where this goes . . . . . “past behavior predicts future performance.” He liked his alcohol, too, but he was more of a functioning alcoholic. That just meant he had his license. He was a lot of fun at first, then I realized he too was cheating. What was it about me that attracted this shit? But, I bought his excuses and stayed with him off and on for the next few years. It was during one of those “off” times that I got my first DUI. I’d had some wine with a friend (I drank a bottle of red wine, to be accurate) then went to meet a date at another bar down the road. I drank more red wine there and apparently left to go home. I say “apparently” because I don’t remember leaving the bar, nor do I remember being pulled over. “Apparently” I was parked in front of someone’s house grooving to some tunes, because they called the cops for a suspicious vehicle. My next memory was being in the jail’s intake, throwing up all over myself. Classy huh? With a 27% BAC, something had to give. I knew though, that this was an anomaly, I wasn’t an alcoholic. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I spent the night in jail. I was shocked that I was in there with people I shouldn’t be, and I swore it would be the first and last time this would happen. I didn’t have a license for two months, until I went to court. My friends were great about carting me around, and I was able to ride my bicycle to the bar! In court, I was given a restricted license for a year, plus I had to have the ignition interlock installed in my car for six months (and I couldn’t drink for a year – PFFT like that was gonna happen.) The kicker though, was the five required Alcoholics Anonymous meetings I had to attend. My goal was to get those knocked out in a week. Why did I have to go to freaking AA meetings?! I wasn’t an alcoholic, I just liked to have a few drinks every now and then! Funny, I got my full license back before I had the ignition interlock removed, because I kept tripping it in the morning before work. I tripped it because I would drink so much the night before, it would read out .02 or somewhere around that the next morning. Not only would my car not start, but once I could blow all zeroes, I would have to drive it to the interlock place and pay a penalty to have it reset, then my six months with it would start OVER. Needless to say, I had the ignition interlock on for a YEAR longer than I should have. The next few years, four and a half to be exact, I still drank, only it was less frequent. When I did drink, though, it was more and more to excess. I was no longer able to recall most parts of the evening, and the next day (or more) I was feeling pretty rough. I always faked it til I made it though, I’d fake “feeling fine” and when told, “We talked about that last night, don’t you remember?” I would always “OH yeah!” my way out of it. I mean, at least I didn’t drive drunk right? Until I did . . . . . The high school I graduated from is a two hour drive from where I live. Our class reunion was to be on a Saturday night, but some of us were getting together to go to the homecoming game the night before. I took that day off from work, had lunch with my daughter (who was now 21 years old), and I drove up early to meet some friends at the local pub before the game. I was just going to have some water since I had the long drive back later. A friend of mine offered me a glass of wine and said, “Hey one won’t hurt” and I knew she was right. But that one seemed so good, I had another. Two glasses wouldn’t hurt, because I was going to be there a while. Two glasses turned into three, then I lost track. I don’t remember anything after we got back from the game. My next memory is waking up on the floor of a jail cell. I had no idea where I was, what time it was, or what happened. I finally caught the attention of an officer, and he told me I was in Shenandoah County, I was arrested for driving drunk, and it was 4:00 am. It occurred to me in a cold sweat panic that nobody knew where I was – my daughter, my boyfriend, my mom – nobody. It would be four hours until the officer let me know that my younger brother, also a police officer in a different county, was informed that I was there safe and sound. I found out later that he had to file a missing persons report on me, his only sister. Another two hours passed, and I was allowed to take a shower and make a phone call. I called my boyfriend, and while crying on the phone, I admitted I needed help. He was relieved I was okay, but he informed me that my unknown whereabouts kept him, my daughter, and my brother up all night. I don’t know what felt worse – the guilt or the hangover, both of which I richly deserved at that time. Somehow I’d wrecked my car, and luckily I had only minor injuries and hadn’t hurt anyone else. The county where I ended up was an hour OUT OF MY WAY from the route home. I have no idea how or why I headed that way. I was only pulled over because I was driving the wrong way on the interstate – read that again – THE WRONG WAY ON THE INTERSTATE. My boyfriend and stepfather came to post my bail and pick up my car, which was somehow still drivable. What happened in the subsequent months that followed was, I started voluntarily going to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. It turns out, there were a lot of people there just like me. Apparently, you don’t have to be a drink every day falling down drunk to be an alcoholic. If alcohol is affecting your life in a negative way, that’s enough. And obviously, with two DUIs in less than five years, it was affecting my life in a most negative way. I obtained an attorney, went to court, had my license suspended for six months, then restricted for two and a half years after, and sentenced to jail for thirty days. The best worst part? I had to start serving on my birthday! I won’t sugarcoat it, jail sucked. I was granted work release, but since the jail was two hours from my regular work (who thankfully granted me a month’s leave of absence), I was required to work at a local laundry folding fitted sheets for eight hours a day. If you want hell on earth, it’s folding fitted sheets for eight hours a day. On the upside, I made a couple of friends in jail, and it was nice to have people with which to commiserate and laugh. The things that have happened for me since being sober have been, for lack of a better word, amazing. I feel like I’m finally becoming the person I was meant to be. I remarried, bought a house and new car, and I have a job that I love. The best part of everything though is falling asleep with zero guilt, waking up with complete recollection of the night before and no shame, regrets, or hangover. A real bonus has been the awesome, funny, and kind friends I’ve made in AA. I can be around people that are drinking, and it doesn’t bother me. One of my favorite quotes is, “I would rather go through life sober, believing I am an alcoholic, than go through life drunk, trying to convince myself that I am not.” I’d convinced myself I was just a party girl, not an alcoholic. Much like people, alcoholism manifests itself in different ways, and it’s a progressive disease. I’m very grateful that I lived to tell about it.
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