here it goes...
I have a confession to make. One that I’ve spent many nights losing sleep over, crying about and feeling an intense amount of shame over. I’ve been keeping it mostly locked up inside because I didn’t want people to think badly of me. I hated myself enough, I didn’t want others to hate me, too. But a treasured friend recently confessed the same, so I figured if she can do it, so can I.
You see, the person I am about to describe to you isn’t me. I am the good girl, who never got into trouble, who never did anything wrong. An overachiever with a good job and the most beautiful dog and most wonderful husband known to humans. I didn’t even drink alcohol until I was 21 and even then, very sporadically for the first few years. I am convinced that I somehow knew. I somehow knew that my obsessive ways, my coping mechanisms would draw me towards it in a way that was not healthy.
I have been dealing with alcohol use disorder.
For over two months I have been telling everyone I’m not drinking because of my new medications. The truth is, I had to stop drinking because I had lost control of my habits. I was lying about drinking and I was not living the life I want to live because of it. I was using alcohol as a way to cope with my loud mind, with the very thing we call life. After doing really well for over a month of not drinking, I did slip. It brought even more shame to this house and it made me realize I had not dealt with things the way I thought I had. So back to therapy I went. Right now I’m just trying to dig through all of the bullshit and shame. Because of alcohol, I hurt my husband and caused problems within our relationship. I lost his trust, and that’s the worst part of all of it. He doesn’t deserve this. He deserves someone a whole lot better than me. I am grateful that he has been kind to me.
So there’s that. I think someday I’ll be able to enjoy a cocktail or two again, but it’s going to involve getting through this muddy water and learning to “drink better.” I am hoping that by just saying it “out loud,” I’ll find some freedom. And I hope that you’ll remember that this isn’t me, it’s a part of me that did what she could, where she was, with what she had.