Alcohol is the drug that has caused the most destruction in my life.
Alcohol has corrupted my path more so than any other drugs I have taken. There is no scale for reasonable comparison.
My consumption of alcohol has cost me hundreds of friendships already; many directly, others indirectly.
It has played a part in writing a history that will lose me friends I have yet to make.
I chose sobriety for a approximately four years in my early twenties before relapsing.
I
have been sober since the summer of 2014. I cannot remember the precise
date I decided to stop, but it was sometime in the month of June, and I
celebrate each year from this decision on the 1st July.
There is no urge to drink left in me because I am emotionally connected with the damage it has done.
Though
people compliment my abstinence, my continual or ongoing abstinence is
not really an evidence of strength for me. Those people resisting a lust
to return, those people should be encouraged with such compliments.
However,
I feel making the decision in the first instance (though the intention
collapsed) and then the second and final instance, was an act of
strength, because I faced behaviour, personality, cause and effects, and
I used the skills and powers I had, accepted the help from willing
friends and family, and took control. I take comfort in that method and
decision as I seek to repair my life, and contribute positively to
society.
When I think of the act
of drinking, I still imagine the pleasure of the taste, and the highs
involved in the feelings it can connect you to. That understanding is
not depreciated. I recognise that certain times drinking I have been
thrown into wonderful and positive situations. The drinking has
sometimes informed that positive curve. Of course, holistically, these
positives pale against what was sacrificed in ignorance and fear.
When
someone explains to me that they can just have “one or two” drinks,
though I can rationalise their decision, I feel no emotional connection
with that idea. Drinking was always an ever lengthening river for me. I
would travel with it until it washed me up on the shore. I laid back in
its arms. It was my guardian and guide.
When someone
explains they drink as part of camaraderie, “a session with friends”,
again, I can rationalise that idea but it was never that for me. My
relationship with alcohol was personal and bilateral, working alongside
relationships with people inside I loved and enjoyed spending time with.
It did inform my social patterns to a degree, but I never considered it
a social event, but something that was added to a social event.
Performing in bars informed my decision to drink too. Working in
dissatisfactory positions of employment also informed my decision to
drink too.
Those that are modest drinkers and do it
because they have been brought up in a culture where it is the norm, and
want to fit in, present a behaviour which is of no temptation to me.
Though their behaviour, for those that are in control of their alcohol
consumption, present less danger than those who relinquish themselves to
the act, I am still emotionally attracted to the latter behaviour. This
is additional evidence for why I must never drink again.
When
I think about drinking, I think of drinks that got me high, as well as
the ones that got me drunk. Those drinks that hit the front of my brain.
Prince Bishops ale. Various other pale ales. Scottish Whiskeys. Rioja.
Other beer got me drunk. Cheap American Whiskey got my drunk. Pernot got
me high. Some drinks would perform differently dependent on the mood of
the occasion, or quantity of intake.
I think of the
escape that I begged for, the confusion in my life, a sense of
inescapable trauma, that thanks to support from others, and education,
and personal processing, as well as counselling, I have managed to
replace with a will to confront and a belief in hope.
I
think of the acceptance of alcohol, and rituals involving alcohol,
defining the possibility of bonding and unity in certain political
situations. It is often a shorthand for shared values and trust.
Similarly talking about football can serve such a purpose in this
country. Though I know there is judgement and disadvantage for not
partaking in some situations, ultimately those situations that result in
a disadvantage are often in the company of those with political
spirits I do not share, in particular, some conservative values around
social equity that do not fit in my ideas.
It remains a
hypocrisy that alcohol is legal to purchase in the UK, where as
marijuana among others drugs remain illegal. This contradiction exposes
its political use. As a depressant it can numb those who might be served
best by feeling. By linking certain drinks to certain prices, it can
become a code for an opinion on class, import or belonging.
I
think of the first time I got drunk on stubbies at a school
house-party. I remember the mild haziness, and the feeling that fitted
in. In a way, upon reflection, I realised I must have been wishing for
that much more than I would have admitted to myself at the time.
Those
who are facing great pressures in this life, those who are affected by
alcoholism - I have nothing but empathy for you. Those trying to cope
and deal with this world, power to you. Keep going. You are deserving of
love. If you can, please speak to people you trust about this, and ask
for help. There are many charities that could help too.
I
think of alcohol as both a cause and a symptom of problems. In my life
it has played both roles. I am accountable for myself when I have
consumed it. Others can choose whether to accept their accountability
for when their drinking has affected me.
This will do for now. To be continued.
23rd February 2018, Chelsea Hare.
