“It doesn’t always matter how much or how often. It never did. For me, so much of it was about the kind of person drinking made me, and the consequences waiting on the other side.”
In seven days, I went from being sober for eight months to sitting in a chemical dependency center after a relapse, being evaluated for a potential outpatient rehab program.
I remember the bitterness and resentment that I felt as I exhaled into a breathalyzer until it clicked, sitting motionless as the nurse asked me what I meant by a glass of wine – big glasses? Small glasses?
I remember saying repeatedly – to anyone that would listen – that I couldn’t be an alcoholic because comparatively, I didn’t drink as excessively as an alcoholic should (whatever that means).
And no matter how many times I was diagnosed with a substance use disorder or gently told I needed help, I’d stamp my foot and insist that getting drunk with some regularity didn’t make it a problem.
And maybe it doesn’t. But there were a hell of a lot of other red…
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