Like Snowflakes

A couple of years ago, I talked about Expressions of Alcoholism. Just like snowflakes, no 2 alcoholics are exactly the same. Of course, this stands to reason because no 2 people are exactly the same. In the world of alcohol dependence, there are many faces, many journeys, many back stories and many ways in which alcoholism manifests. But each alcoholic can only begin a sober life once they accept that they are, in fact, an alcoholic.

I didn't have a rock bottom, per sa. I had a gradual descent into dependency. And once I realized that I could no longer control it, I came to acceptance. It was a slow, steady sort of process. But even with this pace, I was fighting against who I was. I was fighting against the label. It's like saying the sky is green again and again and again until finally seeing that, no, it is, in fact, blue. And it always has been. Trying to fit myself into the mold of social drinking was a struggle. It was a fight. I don't know about you, but I have taken those online "Are you an alcoholic?" tests about a hundred times, always hoping for a different outcome. Praying that the results wouldn't always be: You have a problem. Get help right now. The way I dealt with that was by Googling around until I read what I wanted to read. There are a lot of others in denial about their dependency. Wine enthusiast type message boards are awesome places to go if you want to linger along with them.

I thought for a while that I couldn't be an alcoholic because I only drank wine. And I was fucking picky about the wine I drank. I found excellent wines near my house for stupidly low prices. When you rip through a bottle a night, you don't feel terrific laying down big bucks. I was both picky about it and dependent on it at the same time. But, somehow, being particular about the various notes and hints and features of the wine itself separated me from the cheap wine drinkers. And truth be told, if I didn't have time to buy the wine I liked and had some crappy wine sitting around the house, I wouldn't go to bed sober.

Coming to acceptance wasn't hard. I'm not mad about it. I exhausted all other options. I feel like a rat who has tried multiple ways to get through a maze that wasn't set up with a way out. I'm not angry. I'm just tired of it. And relieved, too, that I don't have to sit around wondering if I am an alcoholic or not. That is a very taxing process. To make all these mental bullet points and part of your brain steps up, like a defense attorney and recites said bullet points back to you, all the reasons you aren't an alcoholic, because admitting that you are is just too fucking scary.

Well, I don't have to wonder any more. The evidence is in and no jury in the world would label me as a social drinker. This isn't to suggest that I feel judged. I don't. I just kept ramming my car into a wall until a voice in my head said, "Um, why don't you try taking your foot off the gas?"