When Your Best Friend Is Alcohol

When you're drinking to forget about your drinking you know you're in a bad spot.  It was a really awful place to find myself, and I tried like hell to hold on.  Alcohol confused me - it was so seductive with its promises of adventure and release and yet every time I drank it was so dark and depressing.  I remember seeing people around me not being affected by alcohol at all.  They weren't late to work, or blowing up relationships, and when they said they were only having one drink, they only had one drink.  I, on the other hand, was the dog chasing its tail going around and around in circles trying to figure out why I couldn't be more like them and less like me.  All my attempts at normalcy just made matters worse.  The more I tried to do something I physically couldn't do (which was not drinking out of control) the crazier my behavior became.  Finally, I got to the point where I had to drink to numb myself and to quiet the alcoholic who was living inside my head.  It sounds utterly insane, and it totally is but when you're alone in a self-dug trench, it's easier to grab the one thing you know even if that one thing hurts like hell.  

My thinking had become so warped I started to believe that I was the victim of so many unfortunate circumstances.   All the people I had disappointed, not shown up for, or failed to keep promises too had somehow neglected me.  Alcohol had become my best friend, and our relationship was next level, out of this world toxic.  She wanted me to be alone and isolated so that we could drink without anyone interfering or judging us.  Our relationship felt like the power struggle between Jekyll and Hyde - on the one hand, my heart pleaded to be released, and on the other, I promised I would never leave her.  

Can you imagine sharing head space with someone that hates everything about you?  Someone who points out your every flaw and reminds you on a daily basis that you are a piece of crap?  Yeah, the alcoholic that lived in my head was a real bitch, and I worshiped her.  I couldn't let her go, so I drank to quiet her down.  The relief brought by complete annihilation was only temporary, but it was better than nothing.  

I was under the impression "rock bottom" meant living on the streets.  In reality, I was at my bottom for a long time and even though I had a lot going for me - an apartment, job, friends, boyfriends, attractiveness none of it meant anything.   My "rock bottom" was in my head - I was digging my own grave, and my alcoholism was cheering me on.  She was seducing me daily and convincing me that the only way to feel better was to drink.  She told me all the cruel and stupid things that I did were somehow everyone else's fault, and that drinking was the answer to everything that ailed me in my life.  She told lie after lie and every morning when I questioned her behavior she promised it would never happen again.  

Finally, by the grace of God, a teeny, tiny voice from somewhere deep down in my gut said enough.  I ended up in the rooms of AA and learned that alcoholism wasn't merely the act of drinking it was the thinking behind it.  Physically giving up alcohol ended up being the easy part it was kicking the angry, self-hating, bitch out of my head that ended up being the hardest work of all.  That's what AA is for.  Anyone can tell you to stop drinking but to show you how to love yourself is an entirely different story.  They showed me how to quiet my alcoholism and gave me the tools to cope with life on life's terms.   I still have self-doubt, insecurities, and bad days but that's just part of being human - AA introduced me to the concept of wearing my life like a loose garment and so far it's worked!