I decided I will not label myself an alcoholic.
People want to pin labels on everyone and I get it, I do… but it’s for them and not me. And I’m not going to adhere to a label just because it makes other people more comfortable.
I don’t drink anymore. I haven’t had a drink in a year and a half. That makes me a sober person, not an alcoholic.
Merriam Webster defines alcoholism as “an addiction to the consumption of alcoholic liquor or the mental illness and compulsive behavior resulting from alcohol dependency.”
I am not addicted to alcohol… I don’t drink at all. I am not dependent on alcohol — in fact, I never was. I would go days without alcohol… months even, with two pregnancies without a drop of it.
When I think of “alcoholic,” I think about Nicholas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas where he’s chugging vodka and shaking and sweating. He was an alcoholic.
And truly — the labels never served me. I always thought to myself… when I reach a point where I’m Nicholas Cage, then I will know I have a problem.
Do you see what my mind just did there?
We can play these mind games all day. And I did. With every glass of wine. With every empty bottle. With every morning hangover.
I am not an alcoholic. But I have a drinking problem.
I do not want just one drink. I take a sip of wine and as the Cabernet flows down my throat I immediately want more. I do not just relax and enjoy. My head starts this ticking time bomb where I try to find a way to have more. First one more sip. Then one more glass. Then another.
This is a drinking problem.
This is also how alcohol works. Alcohol is a drug. One of the most addictive drugs on the planet. Alcohol is meant to drive us to want more.
And in so many ways, my drinking “problem” isn’t a problem at all. It is an effect from drinking. Alcohol is the cause. My “problem” — meaning my desire to have more — is the effect. Cause and effect.
1 in 8 Americans struggle with alcohol addiction. They don’t have internal defects. Their bodies respond the exact way alcohol is meant to affect them.
This is scary stuff. This is playing with fire.
And I know some people can have one drink and not crave another. My mom is one of them, and I’ve quizzed her endlessly on this. “You mean, you don’t desire more? You’re satisfied? You feel like you’ve had enough?” And she says yes. Her body does not respond to alcohol the same way mine does. Does that mean there so something wrong with her? No. It just means we’re different.
I don’t know how some people can quit cold turkey, like I did, and how some people turn into Nicholas Cage in the movie. But I know I was going to find out eventually. Because alcohol and me? We don’t get along because we get along way too well.
It was all or nothing for me and I chose nothing. And if you have the same relationship with alcohol, you might want to make the same choice. Because moderation ain’t in my vocabulary. And I want to live to see my kids grow up. I want my kids to see a sober mom.
I am not an alcoholic. I am a sober mom. And this is a label I take pride in.
Rach says
This speaks volumes to me, I’m trying to fight the rationalizing demons in my head! I feel I lack will power though, being a single parent after the children are in bed is the hardest time, when boredom takes over. How did you get past the rationalizing demons?
Read This Naked Mind. The book helps you fight back against the demons.
Jackie says
I am 62, 25 years sober/non smoking this Sept. 1st. As I read your article I continually felt a “ping” of check marks in both my brain and heart. And by continually I really mean…every other sentence.
Being sober is a big deal. No more buzz of light and happiness; no more glass(es) of conversational courage to hold onto; no more deep dive after not one, but uncountable glasses, into numb deceit.
Now comes living a real and more sustainable life, not necessarily happier - ditch that feeling for contentment most of the time. Sober is better but not fullproof and I’ll take it every day.
My bottom hit me as my also alcoholic and soon-to-be-ex and I were walking and talking at a work break - yes, we worked together, blech - about our daughter. He stopped walking, looked me in the eye and said: “And you call ME a drunk!? You called and told me all this last night? Where was A*** during the call!?”
Uhhhhh, lying in bed next to her drunk calling mom. That was spring, and like a good drunk I set Sept 1st as my stop date - why ruin a good summer of drinking, I asked myself!? August 31st I drank myself into a stupor to the stroke of midnight, finishing all the booze in the house and stubbed out my last cigarette.
The next morning was a little bit panicky - not have a smoke upon waking, in the car, on breaks!? An evening without my coffee mug of wine!? But I did it, I took my life, and my daughter’s life back. My sense of accomplishment lifts me up to this day. My ex? A ward of the state with alcoholic dementia. Could have been me.
My trick: drink Arnold Palmers. They feel fancy.
Wow. Soooo much here. Thank you for sharing and being vulnerable. Our stories will change the world.