|
Hi all
First: this is going to be a long post. I have a lot on my mind. I'm a thinker, and for good or bad a self-analyzer: when something changes within me, I try and analyze it as if I were someone on the outside of myself, which is surprisingly difficult. I have biases all over and am wrong as much as I'm right, I'm sure, but I have two reasons for telling about how I got AUD: two empty myself of something I'm too ashamed to talk to anyone about. And, I hope the reflections I have done can help someone in a similar story.
Me and naltrexone
Short and sweet: Claudia Christian and her Ted talk saved my life. There is not a shred of doubt in my heart that if she had not had the courage to step up, expose her own struggles and "shortcomings" (I do not see them as that, but many do, sadly), I would be drinking my way to bankruptcy, loneliness and a very early death. When I finally mustered the courage to talk to my doctor and ask for Naltrexone, he was very encouraging and congratulated my on taking this step. I can't thank the world enough for giving me that break. I was quite literally contemplating suicide at that point (not ready to actually DO it, but thinking about it, which I had NEVER done before), and I can only sum it up as Claudia did: 5 mg of hope in my hand. I'll tell the story in more detail below, but first I'd like to say: to anyone who considers giving it a try, or have friends/spouse/family that are having problems. DO IT. Don't wait. Do it now. NOW. Finding myself suddenly in control of alcohol is nothing short of a miracle. And as a science lover, atheist and natural sceptic, I do not throw that around lightly. My definition of a miracle in this case would be: something that solved a problem which I had come to see as unsolvable, that would lead to my death. I literally see no difference between having AUD and finding Naltrexone, and having cancer all over the body and finally finding a complete cure. Both would have been terminal diseases. Both require determination and time to work.
The first time on naltrexone
I was nervous beyond belief. As Claudie says in her video: what if it doesn't work? I placed myself in an extremely difficult situation, non-drinking wise: with a good friend (he IS a good friend), but also a drinking buddy. We rarely hang out without having beers. The experience was absolutely bizarre. The beer... was not interesting at all. It just WAS. I like to compare it to a glass of water. You do still take a sip. Out of thirst, out of habit, whatever. But there's no strong compulsion to do so. It's just water. If the water's not cold, you might throw it out. If you're not thirsty, you might forget it completely. When my friend went to the bathroom, I laughed uncontrollably, out of relief, happiness and a sense of being myself for the first time in years. And here's the really crazy part. I have a habit that I'm sure many recognize: when I'm drinking wine with my spouse for example, if she leaves for the bathroom, I always make sure to get a little extra: some extra from the bottle, some booze from the kitchen, a sip from her glass. To make sure I get drunk enough. Now, after finishing his beers (I had plenty left), he opened a bottle of wine, and I could see the compulsion in him: he knew it was stupid and unecessary (he even said so), but he did it. All along, for the first time in years, I was thinking. Do we HAVE to? Now he's gonna pour me a f***ing glass too. Which he did. And five minutes later, he went to the bathroom again. Predictably, I snuck into his kitchen. But this time, not looking for booze or whatever. I POURED HALF OF THE WINE INTO THE SINK, SO I WOULDN'T HAVE TO DRINK IT! When he came back, I pretended I'd drank it.
This specific, recognizable mirroring of my usual self was an abolutely life-changing experience. Do not hesitate, do not think "It won't work for me". It does work.
How I became an alcoholic
I have thought A LOT about this. I was fortunate about one thing: I realized by myself, and after not that many years, that I had a problem. I didn't need people telling me, I didn't need to hit rock bottom, I just understood gradually that, holy ****, I'm no longer in control of this. I want to describe a few details that made me abuse alcohol, so that maybe someone will recognize them and it might help in their situation:
I always drank to be social
I was a party drinker. After realizing my AUD, I tracked the decades back, and realized my partying was... fun, sure, but what I was really after was the drink. I got the most drunk. I got the blackouts. But everyone did it, so it was no problem. And it wasn't. But it did plant the seeds of a problem. I drank much, because it made me more social. Made me relaxed. Now, it also made me hopeless: conversations were unhinged and meaningless, charm was nowhere to be seen and if I got a girl, you could be sure she had been as drunk as me, because there was no way anyone would come home with me in the sorry state I was (always) in. I didn't think so at the time though: I thought it was what everyone did.
Work was the environment that broke me
I started working at a company that had an extremely social, outgoing culture. For every thing we did right, we celebrated. Now, the culture was amazing. People loved it, and worked extremely hard to succeed, but celebrated just as hard when we did. This allowed me to step up my partying from 2-3 times a month to 2-3 times a week. It was still not a problem. We all got to work, we all drank only during the parties and I had no strong triggers yet. I had one rule that was absolute: I didn't drink alone. It wasn't that I forced myself not to: I just never thought of it as an option. It seemed sad, unhealthy and... not a part of who I was. So I didn'.t. That would change.
Skype's not alone, is it?
I had several friends from all over the world, and it turned out to be a fun hobby to drink with them. Through hour-long Skype sessions, we'd have great conversations, laugh and have fun, and drink. I wasn't alone, was I? No, we drank together. It allowed me to drink a bit more often.
Anxiety and home sickness
I decided to visit one of these friends, on another continent, staying at his place in a rough neighbourhood. It was an adventure. I was still young, I loved that it wasn't the "typical vacation". It was a crazy adventure. I bought cocaine from a criminal street dealer, we ended up playing poker and snorting together, and became friendly enough for him to actually give me more coke. And we drank, of course. Now, I occasionally do some drugs like that, but only a few times per year, it's never been a problem for me. The problem however, arose when I realized I was stuck in this shady neighborhood, with a person I barely knew from Skype chats, and would be so for weeks to come. What was I thinking? I suddenly got extremely homesick and filled with anxiety. At that point, I stuck a bottle of whiskey to my lips, and boy did it help. I was alone, sure, but on vacation it's allowed, right? I stumbled across the house laughing. My "roommate" thought it was hung over, and didn't realize that I was drunk anew. Not until he suggested that night that we could have some whiskey, and I told him it was gone. His honest face of shock will never leave me: "all of it? Wow... you really are an alcoholic". It was the first time anyone called me that, and a huge blow to my self-esteem. I had to consider the possibility that I actually was.
Repairing is not drinking
Listen to this: DO NOT EVER TELL ANYONE, OR ALLOW ANYONE TO TELL SOMEONE ELSE, THAT YOU CAN FIX HANGOVERS BY REPAIRING. By repairing, I mean, drinking a little bit the following day, to feel better. This "good advice" that I got from friends, nearly. Literally. Killed. Me. Because I started doing just that. Except, I didn't feel great after the first drink. So I'd do another. It wasn't drinking. I was repairing. It wasn't only allowed, it was kinda cool. Something men did. One time made it ok to do it a second time. And a third. And a thousand times. I broke two of my codes with that: I drank during the daytime. And I drank alone. But it wasn't drinking. It was repairing. It had a name. It was ok.
The alone drinking begins
After my travels, where I'd drink alone to feel better, combined with the lousy advice to "drink a little to feel better", I spiralled into a completely new frame for my life. Drinking alone was a pleasure, not something to be embarrased about. And I quickly realized: I loved it. I absolutely, wholeheartedly to the core of my being LOVED IT. Sitting in front of the computer, getting drunk was the most pleasurable thing I had ever done. Imagine, feeling the pleasure of alcohol, without the hassle of having to relate to other people? I still think fondly about the hours that felt like the most productive, great times of my life, but were really just me watching funny videos, Netflix and sending embarassing love declarations to friends and family. While I was intoxicated, I felt so good it's indescribable. I could do anything. Finish my electronica album. Start my own company. Write a book. Except, I only THOUGHT about it. I didn't actually DO anything, as alcohol incapacitates you from doing anything of value at all. AT ALL. It lures you into thinking that your dreams can come true, but takes away every tool you have to make sure it does. I wasn't even able to send an email or pay a bill. Luckily, I had sober moments when I did that, but the drunken me was absolutely useless. But felt like the king of the world.
It all spirals out of control
After these profound changes, where I completely changed my moral compass to allow me to drink in the daytime, it spiralled completely out of control. Now, everyone's familiar with the hangover. It's the natural, well-known consequence of heavy drinking. I was introduced to a completely new thing, that's different from hangovers: abstinence. If I drink a whole day, (wake up, drink until passed out, wake up, drink, fall asleep at night) I get abstinence that is beyond description. If I had been drinking for several days, it would be even worse. I would call in sick, stand upright with my hand on the back of my couch, breathing heavily and longing for death. The WHOLE DAY. It is an absolute hell the which I do not have the words do describe. I would rather throw myself in front of a train, than keep living.
Experiencing these threw me over the edge (or the other way around perhaps). I would miss work, my own birthday, my family's birthday, my wife's birthday because I drank from the minute I woke up, literally not leaving my bed. I I drank 4-5 shots of vodka before going to the office, and kept drinking in the bathroom there to keep the abstinence anxiety at bay. I drank before meeting friends. I was drunk making strategic business decisions that would affect 500 people. I was drunk holding important presentations. I was drunk giving job interviews. I was drunk all through the workday 2-3 times a week. I was drunk spending time with my wife. Here's the kicker: my brother developed a drinking problem around the same time. We had an intervention, I was the stern one, requiring him to seek treatment, to shape up, to CONTROL HIMSELF. I did the heavy talking. The criticizing. The tough love. And all the while I was drunk myself. Even DURING the intervention, I was drunk myself. The crazy part of all this, of all this absolutely insane madness where I didn't go through a single hour of the day being sober: no one noticed. For two years, I went one. With a wife. With an executive position in a global company. With friends. With sending my brother to a hellish AA establishment because he "couldn't fix this on his own!". No one noticed. I went on and on. There were some looks, to be sure. "You're acting a little strange today". Some. But to this day, I do not think anyone knows I had a problem. That's not denial, it's what I believe to be true. I have a calm drunk personality, and I'm terrified enough of people noticing, to not act too much on drunken impulses. I stay quiet. So no one saw. No one noticed.
Realizing I had a problem
I could tell myself for a long time that, "yeah, this isn't normal", but I felt it was kinda romantic and dramatic to have a troubled soul. I might have been an alcoholic, but so was Hemingway. Don Draper. Drinking was not a habit of ME, it was a habit of INTERESTING MEN. Men with creative abilities, responsibilites, leaders – of course they drank. I was actually almost kind of proud to be one of those that life required so much of, that I had to self-medicate. It was only testament to my abilities. These self-lies are of course ridiculous, but the allowed me to keep going for a while.
The realization came when I tried to stop. When I told myself, ok, you shouldn't be doing this, as it costs too much, it gives you trouble with work, organizing life, your family, etc. And I realized I couldn't. That was another devastating blow to my self-esteem. I'm sure many realize this moment: you go from "I just like alcohol" to "I can't quit". I would stop for weeks at a time, and then go on binges where I had no contact with the outside world for five days.
This drastically changed my relationship with alcohol. Realizing that I thought I could stop whenever I wanted, and having to admit I actually couldn't, made me see alcohol as an enemy all of a sudden. Watching my brother and how useless he was when he was drinking, made me realize I am not much better. All the while, my guilty conscience was eating me up. For critisizing my brother and taking action to getting him dry, while secretly being a complete drunk myself. For lying constantly to friends, family and colleagues. For ruining surprises my wife gave me out of love, by being too drunk to appreciate them, even if she didn't know. For dragging other's along with me (girlfriends, buddies, colleagues) by encouraging them to drink way beyond their normal habits (I'm a fun drinking buddy, what can I say... no, that does not make me proud). For every f***ing time I have not given a rats ass about the healthy, honest values my late father passed on to me, that was his legacy: him doing his best to pass on a healthy moral compass to the coming generation. For having subordinates at work looking up to me as their inspiration, leadership and advice, and being out-of-my mind drunk while meeting with them and speaking to them.
I never want to stop enjoying alcohol. I have never made that decision. But with naltrexone, I can do it without the loss of control. I can do it because it's sometimes a nice thing to do, and not a compulsion. I can do it socially. I can do one glass alone, if I feel like it.
It has completely saved my life. There is no other way to describe it. I am so thankful for dr. Sinclair and his work, dr. Eskapa for writing the book, Claudia for spreading the message and opening up, my doctor for believing in the method, and all of you good people on this board, that I have been following, been encouraged by and grown to admire.
Thank you all, and for those of you who could finish this whole post, I hope my story can be of some relevance or use. If only to one person.
|
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
