AA is a valuable program, it has helped a lot of people, but so help me GOD if I run across one more asshole who just started AA and now thinks it’s their fucking duty to go around and tell everyone they know that if they have a beer at a Super bowl party, then they have a drinking problem.
Listen up douchebags…
[ul]
[li]just because you can’t drink doesn’t mean we’re all in the same boat with you[/li][li]just because you’ve gone to 5 meetings doesn’t mean you’re a qualified counselor and should make judgments about everyone you know[/li][li]I’m happy you found something that works for you, I really am, but no one wants to hear you drone on about it every fucking minute[/li][li]SHUT THE FUCK UP! Lecturing an entire room while we’re trying to watch the game does not make you a concerned friend - it makes you a raging asshole![/li][/ul]
My wife, coming from a family of teetotalers, is convinced that I am an alcoholic. This is yet another wedge that was driven into out marriage, instigated by her.
As a result of marriage counseling, I attended some AA meetings a couple of years back. Let me tell you, the people who spoke at these meetings were the ones who had so completely and irrevocably fucked up their lives with alcohol that it made me realize that a half dozen beers a few nights a week, at home, was no where near the major league fuck-upedness that these people experienced.
If anything, attending AA made me realize how normal I was and how fucked up my wife was (is).
Yes, and I find myself drinking alone and drinking to avoid reality.
I’m drinking alone right now. And I looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooove it.
I’ve never understood the prohibition against drinking alone. It sounds like the kind of mentality that determined being gay was a mental illness. It is unpopular, therefore it is a mental illness, that sort of thing.
I’d like to point out that my typing skills are not affected by drinking nearly 12oz of whiskey. God I’m awesome. I wish I could be drunk all the time. I admire the homeless.
In general I was more fucked up than my alcoholic girlfriend, but when she got worried about me having a drink at sales meetings, she was projecting her own problems onto me–especially since that was virtually the only time I ever drank, and I got drunk for the first time at the age of 29, which was AFTER we broke up. (And it was because I had always drunk so little, and thus didn’t realize that a Long Island Ice Tea did not in fact consist of a large amount of iced tea with a smidgeon of alcohol in it. If I’d been more experienced with alcohol I’d not have made the mistake.)
A good part of it is probably jealousy because he really wants to have a drink because everybody else has one and he’s pissed because he’s coming to the realization that he can’t have just one. Or three. This being one of our National Beer Days doesn’t help. Be tolerant and understanding, but especially tell him to shut the fuck up. He’s not being helpful to you lousy sods by being preachy. You have to find your way to sobriety or to the grave on your own. Or maybe you’re a member of that sickening majority of people who are not and will never be alcoholics and can have a couple beers without ending up in a gutter or jail. Yeah, that’s what you are, one of those assholes who think you’re better than me, with your, “No thanks, I’m driving,” and “I have to get up early tomorrow.”
People like you make me puke more than four 40s of malt liquor did.
I’ve met a few people like that. I think it is largely driven by an unwillingness to admit that they’re different from anyone else. Rather than accept that some people can handle alcohol, and they themselves cannot, they tell themselves “These guys have an alcohol problem too - at least I was strong enough to face it.”
Not to continue this hijack or anything, but I was at the pharmacy once where there was a sign advertising a contest by a brand of insulin where the first prize was a trip to Vienna. Why anybody who cannot eat desserts would want to go to Vienna is beyond me.
I’m glad I could help. In a couple of hours the parts of my brain that process shame will no longer be numbed and saturated with ethanol, so enjoy it while it lasts.
Heh. I remember 28 years ago when I was a young pup. We had a company party and I had all of TWO drinks over the course of about six hours. A month later I’m driving to a customer site with a co-worker and he tries to give me the whole “you have a drinking problem” bit, pointing out that I had gasp drunk alcohol at a company party taking place in a bar (like the vast majority of my co-workers and their spouses). I tried to point out that I had only two drinks, and those were the first drinks I’d had in something like three months. No go. Just kept trying to convince me that I had a drinking problem.