In the harsh light of day
So I had an epiphany this morning. This may come as absolutely no surprise to some of you, but to me it was a startling and frankly embarrassing revelation:
I have a drinking problem.
I've always thought of a "drinking problem" as another name for medically-diagnosable alcoholism. My mother's father was an alcoholic -- he was drunk most of the time, and when he was drunk he beat his children. My father's mother was an alcoholic and a drug addict -- she was under the influence of something, alcohol or "mother's little helper" most of the time, and when she was drunk or high she was emotionally abusive to her husband and children. I starred in a play based a friend's struggle with alcoholism -- in that play, Dear Hubby's character couldn't pass up an opportunity to get drunk or high. I've always thought of a drinking problem as a compulsion to drink as often and as much as possible, mindless of the consequences.
I, on the other hand, can go for months without a drink and not miss it in the least. I can have a glass of wine with dinner and not have any interest in a second. I can limit how much I drink, or not drink at all, on the basis of whether and when I'm going to have to drive.
But this morning, as I was thinking about the last two years, I realized that in certain kinds of social situations, I fit every characteristic of alcohol dependency. In a group of people, especially a group of people I don't know or don't know well, and especially if I'm either interested in a guy in that group or trying to flirt with men outside the group, I feel an actual *need* to not only drink, but drink to excess, without regard for the consequences.
I have on more than one occasion completely embarrassed myself because I was drunk, and deeply regretted it afterwards, yet the next time I found myself in that situation I did the same damn thing -- even when I told myself that I wouldn't. And I've inconvenienced my friends repeatedly because of my drinking habits. And, of course, there is again the fact that I have a disproportionate number of incredibly embarrassing memories from the last two years which, I now realize, almost all start with me getting wasted.
So, this is good information to have.
Like I said, it's a pretty excruciating realization: I am, in fact, That Girl. I've joked to Razor about how last spring I was basically Crazy Drunk Girl, but it only just now kind of sunk in that Crazy Drunk Girl has a Problem. And now that I have this information, I have to deal with it in one of two ways. One possibility is to avoid the situations that prompt me to drink (not a good option, since that would basically preclude me from ever meeting anybody I don't already know). The other is much harder. I think I wrote, a couple of years ago, that I dealt with my social phobia with booze. Obviously, that didn't turn out so well for me. I have to be prepared to go into situations like that consciously deciding not to drink at all. While in other circumstances -- having dinner by myself, or going out with close friends -- I have no problem at all stopping after one glass of wine, I clearly cannot do the same in social situations that make me nervous. (Or, in fact, terrified.)
So, new rules: no drinking at parties. Or before parties. I fear this will result in me not going to them anymore -- but then, I do have a therapist now, and we should obviously be working on this. And while I'm at it, no more drinking when I feel nervous with a guy. I used to do that with Scott all the time, and that ended very badly as well -- I mean, the drinking specifically. I need to get the Doc to teach me how to calm my nerves without alcohol -- I remember, before I turned into a serious drinker, going to parties, or going out on dates, and literally having to clutch my hands together to stop them shaking. And I need to figure out how to be fun, to be uninhibited, without drinking. I've been Fun Bobby for a while now, which is only funny if you do actually life in a sit-com.
(This realization isn't prompted by any recent event; the last time I had a night of infamy was on Halloween. But the fact that in November of '06 I'd had just the one night of infamy, and now I've had more than I really want to count -- just kind of hit me today.)
I have a drinking problem.
I've always thought of a "drinking problem" as another name for medically-diagnosable alcoholism. My mother's father was an alcoholic -- he was drunk most of the time, and when he was drunk he beat his children. My father's mother was an alcoholic and a drug addict -- she was under the influence of something, alcohol or "mother's little helper" most of the time, and when she was drunk or high she was emotionally abusive to her husband and children. I starred in a play based a friend's struggle with alcoholism -- in that play, Dear Hubby's character couldn't pass up an opportunity to get drunk or high. I've always thought of a drinking problem as a compulsion to drink as often and as much as possible, mindless of the consequences.
I, on the other hand, can go for months without a drink and not miss it in the least. I can have a glass of wine with dinner and not have any interest in a second. I can limit how much I drink, or not drink at all, on the basis of whether and when I'm going to have to drive.
But this morning, as I was thinking about the last two years, I realized that in certain kinds of social situations, I fit every characteristic of alcohol dependency. In a group of people, especially a group of people I don't know or don't know well, and especially if I'm either interested in a guy in that group or trying to flirt with men outside the group, I feel an actual *need* to not only drink, but drink to excess, without regard for the consequences.
I have on more than one occasion completely embarrassed myself because I was drunk, and deeply regretted it afterwards, yet the next time I found myself in that situation I did the same damn thing -- even when I told myself that I wouldn't. And I've inconvenienced my friends repeatedly because of my drinking habits. And, of course, there is again the fact that I have a disproportionate number of incredibly embarrassing memories from the last two years which, I now realize, almost all start with me getting wasted.
So, this is good information to have.
Like I said, it's a pretty excruciating realization: I am, in fact, That Girl. I've joked to Razor about how last spring I was basically Crazy Drunk Girl, but it only just now kind of sunk in that Crazy Drunk Girl has a Problem. And now that I have this information, I have to deal with it in one of two ways. One possibility is to avoid the situations that prompt me to drink (not a good option, since that would basically preclude me from ever meeting anybody I don't already know). The other is much harder. I think I wrote, a couple of years ago, that I dealt with my social phobia with booze. Obviously, that didn't turn out so well for me. I have to be prepared to go into situations like that consciously deciding not to drink at all. While in other circumstances -- having dinner by myself, or going out with close friends -- I have no problem at all stopping after one glass of wine, I clearly cannot do the same in social situations that make me nervous. (Or, in fact, terrified.)
So, new rules: no drinking at parties. Or before parties. I fear this will result in me not going to them anymore -- but then, I do have a therapist now, and we should obviously be working on this. And while I'm at it, no more drinking when I feel nervous with a guy. I used to do that with Scott all the time, and that ended very badly as well -- I mean, the drinking specifically. I need to get the Doc to teach me how to calm my nerves without alcohol -- I remember, before I turned into a serious drinker, going to parties, or going out on dates, and literally having to clutch my hands together to stop them shaking. And I need to figure out how to be fun, to be uninhibited, without drinking. I've been Fun Bobby for a while now, which is only funny if you do actually life in a sit-com.
(This realization isn't prompted by any recent event; the last time I had a night of infamy was on Halloween. But the fact that in November of '06 I'd had just the one night of infamy, and now I've had more than I really want to count -- just kind of hit me today.)