I'm afraid I have a drinking problem (long)

scott, that restatement makes perfect sense to me. Thanks!
Daniel

I’m saying that turning down alcohol and then saying the the very fact that he is capable of turning down alcohol means he doesn’t have a problem is a bad sign.

Because for people without a drinking problem, turning down alcohol isn’t remarkable in any way. From his words, I get the feeling that he thinks going two days without alcohol is a triumph. For people without a drinking problem, going two days without alcohol isn’t remarkable in any way. Most of us probably wouldn’t even notice.

For my dad, going to a function and not drinking was so remarkable that he’d explain that he wasn’t drinking to demonstrate to everyone that Mom was wrong when she said he couldn’t not drink. He thought going to one party and not drinking was a triumph and proof that he didn’t have a problem. Three hours without drinking was that big a deal for him.

The OP sounds like he’s heading in that direction to me. I’ll admit that I’m not a professional, and I’m basing my opinion on my own experiences which aren’t necessarily true for anyone but my dad, but it sounded eerily familiar.

And that, to me, is not at all sensible: it is a view devoid of nuance, that defines the word “alcoholism” into meaninglessness.

I would submit that there is not a single drinker of alcohol in history who has not occasionally drunk alcohol in order to get a buzz on. Not “in order to get puking drunk,” but in order to get that mild pleasant fuzziness that you can get from a single beer, from a tablespoon of whiskey. I would further submit that the vast majority of these people are not alcoholic by any meanigful definition of the term.

I don’t have a problem with saying that “if you obsess over alcohol there’s a problem,” or, “If you are constantly wracked with guilt over your drinking there’s a problem,” or, “if you wake up every morning looking forward to the moment when you can drink there’s a problem.” But the black-and-white, no-recognition-of-subtlety attitudes I hear from too many AA people makes it emotionally hard to take them seriously.

Daniel

Twickster , I’ll concede that. But at the same time I quit smoking around four years ago and that’s about as specific as I can get even if I try to sit down and figure it out. If I counted forward the days in which I’m still not smoking then am I not taking the past and latching onto it in the present?

I’m not saying that it’s bad to talk about it but alcohol seems just as large a demon for those who’ve quit so perhaps they’re more likely to see fire where there is none.

From what I’ve read in this thread, Priceguy, you might have a problem.

Twickster said “normal people don’t need to control their drinking”. Did you read that post?

If you have to stop yourself from drinking or you have to plan days when you can and can’t drink, you’ve got a problem. I can’t see why you keep asking what behavior makes people think you’ve got a problem, when your behavior patterns have been laid out by several people who’ve been there.

The date one quits drinking is known as one’s sobriety birthday, and it is a significant date – it marks the beginning of a new life (not to get all glurgey about it). AA very much celebrates the significant milestones in early recovery – for an alcoholic, going 30, 60, 90 days without a drink truly is a very, very big deal. After that, usually the group celebrates six months and nine months – once you get to a year (which is a HUGE honkin’ deal – I still carry my one-year NA keytag with my keys, though all the print on it has long since worn off), you celebrate once a year. And, indeed, when someone asks me how long I’ve been sober, I usually say “19 years” without bothering to calculate the numbers of months and days.

I’m not entirely clear why you’re so bothered by people knowing their sobriety birthdays. Are we making too much of it? No, that’s the day I turned around and stopped rushing headlong towards disease, insanity, and death.

Sorry – that was in response to Rooves, obviously.

I agree.

I’m not much of a drinker and I’ve never been drunk, but I have had alcohol for reasons that have nothing to do with liking the taste. In fact, I despise the taste.

I have had drinks because I was curious what they tasted like.

I have had drinks because I was curious about alcohol’s effect on me.

I have had drinks because I was thirsty and it was available.

I have had drinks because I was sick and wanted help sleeping/relaxing.

I have had drinks because they were offered and I didn’t feel like standing out.

I have had drinks because I was cold.

And I have had drinks because they taste good (only works for mudslides and amaretto sours).

Considering how few drinks I’ve had in my life even with all of these reasons, I imagine that most people have an even longer list that they could compile.

This is absolutely true. People drink because they like the way it makes them feel, and enjoying getting a buzz on in no way makes someone an alcoholic. You’re right that our therapy culture has pathologized a lot of normal behavior, and this does a disservice to people who genuinely have a problem.

It’s when somebody likes drinking to the point of being obsessed with it that it’s a problem. I used to watch the clock at work pretty much every day and calculate how long it was until I could go have a drink. That’s alcoholic behavior.

Priceguy, I’ll be honest, you do sound like you have a problem and were looking to hear something other than what you got here. I spent a bunch of years trying to rationalize my drinking, thinking, well, I’ve never gone into convulsions like I saw my dad do, so I must not be an alcoholic. When I got ordered into treatment by the Navy, I was crushed and thought, hey, I’m just having some personal problems, why don’t they see that? I’m not going to tell you you’re an alcoholic, but so much of the behavior and thinking you’ve described here sound awfully familiar to me. If you’re still not ready to quit, that’s your decision. Just giving you some food for thought.

I won’t call you an alcoholic, that’s not for me to decide. But your type of drinking is very commonly associated with the sort of drinking that alcoholics do; especially the idea of controlling the drinking, and succeeding only some of the time.

Also the idea of deciding to look into what constitutes alcoholic drinking behavior, then working to change your behavior accordingly.

While noble ideas in both cases, this indicates a pre-occupation with drinking and concerns about the normality of your drinking habits.

The fact that the idea of never drinking again elicits such strong feelings from you is also an indicator that your drinking may not be normal.

Does this mean you must rush to rehab or the nearest meeting and get sober? Or sign on with Moderation Management to try to get things under control again? Only you can decide that. People generally only succeed at such things when they have a visceral realization that their drinking is harming themselves and others.

And it is true that in general, folks with the drinking pattern you describe don’t have much luck long-term in going back to social drinking.

When I first entered treatment, I just wanted to be able to use morphine socially again, after all! :smiley:

Even as a sober person, I have to disagree somewhat with Triskadecamus. I think it’s perfectly fine - and even fun - for “normal” drinkers to go out and get blitzed every so often. Even planning it - “When I finish my finals, I’m going out and getting wasted!” - doesn’t in and of itself seem indicative of a problem.

How you drink can be a good indicator of what kind of drinker you are: moderate, heavy, alcoholic. I believe the best gauge of whether or not you’re an alcoholic is what’s going on in your mind when you drink - before you drink, even.

It’s one thing to have a drink or two before going out. It’s quite another to get wasted beforehand because it’s cheaper than buying drinks in a bar or club… and yet you still end up spending a shitload on drinks at the bar.

Once I was running out of money, and I thought I’ll pay my rent minus $200 until my next pay. That way I could afford to drink for two weeks. (My weekly total of 10.5% swill beer gradually increased to about $200 a week.) Now, my fucked-up alky mind was telling me that having money for beer was more important than meeting my monthly obligation to pay the rent, and the landlord wouldn’t mind if I paid the rest in two weeks. I got in a shitload of trouble, and coughed up the $200.

I also didn’t realize the insanity of having a running tab in a ledger at the local dépanneur so that I could still obtain beer when I was broke. Payday would come around, and I’d always owe more than $100. I’d of course have less money until my next pay, but at least I was still able to get blitzed when broke. And I’d of course be broke again within 10 days, so I’d be back putting it on my tab. The real insanity is that I never questioned what this was doing to my finances. Oh, and of course I’d pay the bills only every few months, because having money for beer was crucial. Who cares? They’re not going to cut off the cable. Well, they did. Instead of thinking, “Fuck, I messed up, I’d better pay off the outstanding balance, get reconnected, and back in the cable company’s good books” it was more like, “Ah well. Most of the stuff I watch is on antenna, even if the reception sucks. And one less utility to pay. More money for beer!”

Let’s see… Buying my beer at different stores during the course of an evening so that no one store would think I was drinking too much. What I didn’t realize then was that I would go into each “new” store more and more wasted and reeking of beer. But in my insanity, I was convinced no one would notice.

Work: I was fucking up big time, and I really don’t know how I survived the three rounds of layoffs that happened before I got sober. But I figured that if I did a couple bits of good work over the course of a week, it would overshadow my overall shitty performance. (I had a performance review three months after I got sober, and my manager said, “I don’t know what you’ve done, but keep doing it.” She couldn’t believe the day-and-night change not only in my performance but in my personality. On the review form, she wrote that my performance had improved dramatically over the past few months. That means that almost as soon as I got sober, she must have noticed a sudden difference.)

Also at work: Often I’d still be drunk-ish from the night before, or I’d had some leftover beer for breakfast. (In my blackouts, I sometimes wouldn’t finish a 40-ouncer, and put it in the fridge. The next morning, I’d open the fridge not remembering whether or not there was beer left, and to my delight, would find a half-full bottle, which I’d of course drink - before work. After all, it was a bonus!) So I reeked of booze. But in my head, enough mouthwash and some cologne would overwhelm the smell of beer that was coming not only from my mouth, but out my pores as well. Now, I can smell someone drunk from quite a distance, and I realize that in our cramped cubicles, my booze stank must have been unbearable.

Finally, my first drink, when I was 13. (This aside from sips of wine or drinking leftover gin-and-tonics diluted with melted ice cubes that my parents and their friends would leave around after parties.) I made - of all things - a lime daiquiri with some horrible powder my parents had left over from the 70s. Two sips into it, my mind said, “More. I want another. I want more of this.” I ended up having three that first day. A pretty good indication that I was an alcoholic from the start.

And of course I was raiding my parents’ liquor cabinet for all of this experimentation. I figured they wouldn’t notice that much gone from the bottle of rum. Then, they wouldn’t notice that much more gone. Then, what’s a little more? They won’t notice that. And a little bit more, and so on, until I briefly came to my senses and realized I’d have to switch to the gin. Same thing happened with that bottle. Then the vodka. Then the Tia Maria. Then I tried some whiskey and hated it but drank it anyway. I knew better than to top off the bottles with water. One day I discovered a bottle of kirsch at the back of the liquor cabinet, and I knew that they never drank that, so I went searching in a drink recipe book for something I could make with kirsch. It was disgusting, but hey, it was booze.

Oh, my parents noticed all right that I was drinking their booze. I got in trouble. The important part here is that I truly believed that I could take a bit more, then a bit more, and still a bit more, but the decrease in the level in the bottles wouldn’t be noticeable. Really, it was my head telling me the drink was more important. That’s pretty insane.

(Of course, what the smart kids were doing when they occasionally wanted to get drunk, was to take a tiny bit from every bottle of their parents’ and making “shit mix”. Far less noticeable.)

The thing that really struck me about my own drinking - and others have told me they experienced the same thing - was that if I felt nice after three drinks, I’d feel even better after four. I would, so I’d have a fifth to feel even better. And so on. Before you knew it, I’d be a slobbering, puking mess. Never again! But the next time, I’d repeat the same behavior, expecting different results. This time, I’ll feel great and won’t get sick. That’s insanity in my books.

Finally, something really sick is that when I’d get home from work - with my backpack filled with beer - I knew getting through the first drink would be difficult, but I had to if I wanted to settle and be able to drink for the evening. Sometimes I’d buy a small bottle of light beer to facilitate the necessary evil of the first, all-important drink. I’d take a few gulps (but the rest of the time I was a chugger), gag and sit there thinking “Do I need to puke? Sit tight.” Sometimes I would puke, sometimes not. Then I’d drink some more, and it would sit better. Once over the initial “retox,” I was all set to go. Of course, I’d still puke two or three times over the course of the evening. What was really sad was this: A normal, even heavy, drinker, once they puke, usually says, “Okay, that’s enough.” For me, the prevailing thought was, “Shit, I just wasted all that beer by throwing it up. I’ll have to drink more to make up for it.”

What would go on in my head, even before it manifested itself into behavior, was really what made me a true alcoholic.

Perhaps Priceguy and others have had similar experiences. I don’t know. I’m just sharing my own, which is really all I can do in threads like these.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Some people say I’m an alcoholic in denial, Trunk says I’m like someone who took a drink for the first time in his life and was convinced he was an alcoholic. I’m 27 and took my first drink when I was 15. Some other people try to convince me that I even have a problem. I know I have a problem. I’ve already said it several times in this thread. I’ll say it again.

I, Priceguy, have a problem with alcohol.

And if I’m not, I can.

No, I know that. I just don’t believe I’m a pickle. I’ve never had a problem anywhere near yours.

Well, that’s what I wanted to know. So many people are totally convinced that I’m a full-blown, no-going-back alcoholic, so I wanted to know what it was I said that convinced them.

Well then, virtually everybody I know is an alcoholic. Fancy that.

Come on, this isn’t a useful definition to anybody. Alcohol is a recreational drug. It’s taken because it feels good, not because it tastes good (although many alcoholic beverages do, of course). It doesn’t taste that much better than other beverages that people would accept the negative side-effects (hangovers, lack of judgment while under the influence and so on) if it didn’t give them something else.

I do control my drinking, yes. I admit that I display that particular sign of alcoholism.

That was actually poorly phrased in my first post. I didn’t change my behaviour; I merely thought a lot more about it. I never did hide my drinking or lie about it.

Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I love drinking. I just love it. Have done for years before I had a problem. I love having beer with friends, I love having wine with dinner, and I do love getting completely arsefaced occasionally.

Well, here’s hoping I can provide you with an opposing data point.

Let me ask you one more question. Let’s pretend I’m your patient. What exactly do I have to do for you to say “You know, Priceguy, I think you could drink socially like you did for ten years before this mess”?

And I do appreciate it. I don’t want to sound ungrateful in any way, because I really do appreciate you telling your story.

But it may have the opposite effect from what you were intending, because I don’t see elements of my life in your story at all. I’ve never experienced what you describe as insanity. I’ve never had money trouble due to drinking, not even close. I’ve never had to give anything up for drinking. I’ve never been drunk at work or at school. I have drunk to the point of puking several times during the almost thirteen years since my first drink, but it happens rarely, especially since I got to know my tolerance levels better, which happens with age.

  1. It’s easy to remember the day you stopped drinking. In AA, you can choose to take medallions (usually 30 days, three, six, nine months, one year, two year, and so on) in front of a group. To do so, you have to remember your sobriety date. And taking medallions in my experience isn’t about self-congratulation. Rather, it’s for the newcomer. They see that it is possible to stay sober. When you say a few words about how your life has changed or whatever, it’s equally inspiring to someone who might be still struggling to string together a few days. At my second meeting, a young woman took her one-year medallion and cake. I just couldn’t believe how someone could do that. Then a woman whose position was to welcome the newcomer stood up, looked right at me, and said, “I know that right now you think what [young woman’s name] has achieved is impossible. But believe me, it is.” I never forgot that. A year later, I took my one-year cake, and Ida was there. I remember looking right at her and recounting that little anecdote, and that here I was, a year later, and she was right.

  2. As for counting days, I don’t think many do that. Here’s a sobriety calculator. I put in November 4, 2002, and it tells me I’ve been sober 904 days, 11 hours, and 42 minutes. I don’t sit around figuring that out myself; I have better things to do.

Some people in recovery really, really dwell on it. I don’t. Not drinking has become second nature. I really don’t think about it. The only time I force myself to remember what that hell was like is when my head starts thinking about the good old days when I could drink relatively normally. The recollection of how bleak, insane, and pathetic my life was is more than enough to remind me why I can’t have a drink.

Everyone’s story is different. Ditto, ditto, ditto, and ditto for me.

But – I drank every night.

And whether you’re drinking every night or not – if the only reason for drinking is to get drunk (unless, oh, right, I’m gonna control it tonight for whatever reason), you probably have a problem. If your reaction to stress, disappointment, frustration, boredom is to drink, you probably have a problem.

A few months before I got sober, my brother got married. I was living in Iowa then, and the wedding was in Philly, so I flew through O’Hare. My flight got delayed, then cancelled, so I got in several hours late, and went immediately to the rehearsal dinner. Forget food – the first thing I did was down two vodka-and-tonics – because I was so stressed out.

Made a hell of an impression on the bride’s family, who met me for the first time that evening. My family all took it in stride – but that’s another story.

There have been countless speakers at meetings whose stories I couldn’t relate to. Big deal. What makes up for it are the few times when someone’s story has so much in common with mine. That’s me! That’s what I was like!

Earlier, I said:

Look, I’m one of the few in this thread who hasn’t said “You’re an alcoholic!” or “Don’t listen to these drunks. You’re no alcoholic.” I never said “Get thee to AA right away! Stop drinking NOW!”

I think you’re in a very good position - especially since you say you haven’t had any financial or occupational or social problems because of your drinking - to look a bit further than the “typical” indicators of alcoholism and maybe consider other things that have been affected by your drinking. You might find everything’s fine, and I for one would have no problem with that. I’m not trying to force a label on you.

Or you might realize a few things aren’t quite right (or even a mess) - things you didn’t consider before. In that case, I sincerely hope you feel comfortable coming back here (or emailing me - it’s in my profile) to discuss these things.

But I will ask two things of you: First, be honest with yourself. Fearlessly honest. Try not to make excuses or rationalize things. If you decide ahead of time that you “want” to be a heavy drinker, don’t let that affect how your answer your own questions. It’s much easier to be honest and thorough when you’re with yourself, and not trying to disprove the claims of others. Second, spend some of that time really contemplating not so much how you drink and if there are any consequences, but rather what goes on in your head when you decide you’re going to drink, while you’re drinking, and afterward (especially if you’re feeling like crap).

You don’t owe it to me, though. I just feel that if you’re concerned enough to begin a thread like this, you owe it to yourself to really ponder the situation. I have a feeling replying to and sometimes rebutting what people are saying here is getting in the way of some serious self-examination on your part.

Possibly. Look, I’ll be honest: what I wanted, so deep-down it was almost subconscious, to get out of this thread was everybody saying “No, you don’t have a problem”. Of course.

Now, that didn’t happen, which I kind of would have expected if I’d been honest to myself, but I didn’t expect everybody (with a few exceptions) to instantly label me a full-blown alcoholic and basically say I’m damned forever, amen. I’m convinced I do have a problem, but I’m also convinced it’s not that bad. I can kick it. But no matter what I say, that’s what an alcoholic in denial would say too, isn’t it? So there’s no way out. That’s very frustrating.

Having said that, I’ve spent the last half-hour or so browsing the AA homepage. I’ve located an AA group close to my home, that has meetings twice a day seven days a week. I think I’ll be going there as soon as I can, if only to find out what they think of my situation. I’ll probably feel a bit like Ned Flanders (“That was my first and last blueberry schnaps”), though.

I’m not sure I understand this statement. Isn’t control more or less equivalent to moderation? At least, you need to be able to quantify the amount you are drinking, and in my book that means control. For instance, if you’re drinking you should be aware that a Martini is probably worth two beers in terms of alcohol content.

Priceguy – I’m proud and impressed that you’re willing to check out AA. That is an amazing step. You may or may not find what you’re looking for there – but to quote an old AA cliche (and there are hundreds of them) – “Take what you need [of what you hear] and leave the rest.”

Speaking only for myself (duh), that’s not what I said. What I said was “you seem to display a lot of alcoholic behavior.” Alcoholic behavior is something I recognize because 1) I’m an alcoholic; 2) I was raised by alcoholics; 3) some of my best friends…

I also said “If you decide you are concerned about your drinking and want to explore some ways of dealing with it, you might want to check out AA.” I also tried to make it clear that AA isn’t the only answer, and that even though I personally got sober through AA, I’m not unaware of … issues … many people have with it as an organization and as an approach towards sobriety. As I said above (both in this post and upthread), it turned out to be what I needed, and I admire your openness and willingness to check out whether there’s anything there for you or not.

FTR, I don’t have a problem with people drinking, if they don’t. I also have a lot of friends and family members who can drink – even get drunk – without it being a problem for them. I had dinner with a friend last night who had a bourbon while he was waiting for me, and ordered a second when the waitress came to take my order for a Diet Coke. My only thought was “Hm, that’s odd, D. doesn’t usually drink.” I definitely didn’t think “Oh My God D. Has Finally Snapped And Now He’s An Alcoholic!

Of course, the fact that he got about three sips into the second, said “Shit, this is going right to my head,” and pushed it aside and ordered a Coke … :smiley:

But this raises another question. If you habitually have one or two drinks every day, for instance wine with dinner, does that automatically make you an alcoholic? Does consuming a moderate amount of alcohol daily make you a problem drinker? The message I’m getting from the recovering alcoholics here is that it’s more in one’s attitude than it is in in the frequency of drinking, or in the amount drunk. But to me that seems too subjective.