I started writing this blog to have a place to voice my thoughts and share with anyone who cares to visit. Despite the many ideas I wished to record I engaged in a habit that sapped me of my will, determination, and curiosity. That was habitual alcohol abuse. I chose this particular title because it got to a point where my wife recognized me as a different person when drunk. Angry and illogical I become a cruel shade of myself, trapped by my addiction and an inability to change. My Mister Hyde released after the imbibing of a potion. Any problems, troubles, or anything negative that I discuss in this story I provide not for pity but honesty. I made these mistakes, now I’m trying to fix what I can. I’m not the first and I will not be the last but maybe writing this will help me, and if you read it maybe it will help you or a loved one.
When the Covid-19 lockdowns started I had no problem staying at home. I prefer my solitude. However, as the lockdowns continued, I found myself growing increasingly bored and disappointed in myself. When my wife and I spent a portion of the year in Tennessee I started drinking a lot more. Partly because I had been a habitual pot smoker for about a decade and stopped all at once living somewhere where weed was illegal, and partly because of the boredom. It was simple at first, drinking a few beers after work while watching TV. Eventually it became habit and my consumption increased from a few beers to a six-pack. Not only that but being stuck where we were in Tennessee left me feeling trapped, like living in a hotel room for months. We went out when we could, but we were very remote. The only food available to us being microwaveable food as we didn’t have a kitchen. All of this and reduced exercise made me 50 pounds heavier after a few months. This all seems like text-book depression and maybe it was, but when I was high school, I suffered from a savage depression, and it didn’t feel the same. Eventually we left Tennessee and moved to Colorado, while here I picked up my smoking habit again but severely reduced in consumption. Recognizing how much weight I had put on I knew I couldn’t continue drinking beer and that I needed to be exercising daily. My misgivings over drinking had already started to exist but either out of indolence, foolishness, or addiction I continued to drink but now hard liquor. Of any of the signs my body gave me to stop the one that has changed my life the most it’s that my digestion stopped working properly though I hadn’t yet determined drinking as the cause.
Unfortunately, this is where the story takes a turn for the worse. My drinking had accelerated to a gallon of whiskey a week. I was occasionally day drinking, but certainly drinking far too much each night. This is when I started to lose control. When I started to argue with my wife. When she started to notice something was wrong. Too much alcohol and I can’t manage my emotions well, I start complaining about things to my wife. It becomes a debate. Then a fight, hurting us both. One could correctly guess this affected my wife’s disposition as well, quite severely. A tension had always existed between us as she’s highly motivated and hard-working, and when we met in College, I was struggling student who didn’t work as hard as he should or could have. After the alcohol she lost faith in me. She became afraid of me. Why didn’t I stop.
My wife had a hit breaking point with me and asked that I get into therapy. I met with a therapist for a few months but ultimately didn’t feel like it helped, and not for the first time. I had therapy as a high schooler when I was dealing with my depression. I attended several sessions back then but talking to my therapist I got the sense she either didn’t care or didn’t understand. She even suggested that my internal anger arose from contempt towards my mother because she and my older brother argued when he lived with us, based on me looking up to him as a kid. That’s absolutely a load of bollocks. I knew it wasn’t going to work with this therapist and I would have to figure it out on my own. Which I did, in a sense. One of my biggest inspirations back then was my French teacher at the time. This teacher really cared about her students and put a lot of effort into teaching. When I started to slip in grades, she’d talk to me about it because she wanted me to improve. She did all this while going through chemotherapy for cancer and she never lost her optimism. Not the overly bubbly kind but hopeful and determined. Knowing she’s probably suffering while doing all this it showed me that you must have hope and you must work hard every day to keep it that way.
Late in 2021 my wife and I discovered she had become pregnant. I had stopped smoking weed at this time in anticipation of my first-born, a daughter. This is also when I started studying seriously to change jobs and my first real attempt at managing my addiction. As a software engineer it’s required to demonstrate aptitude through a variety of tests and interviews. This means months of practice and studying. So, for three months I had purpose. Still drinking but I was too busy to drink a lot. For the first time since maybe college, I felt like I was working hard and had something. This was only a bright spot in a streak of darkness. I failed to get another job and I think the disappointment killed my remaining passion and optimism. Then I stopped studying and shortly after we moved back to California. My wife suggested it’s possible the constant moving prevented me from building solid habits.
I didn’t immediately relapse but I did start drinking again and it grew as a habit. Tensions with my wife, my own personal issues, a pull to change jobs, my day job, and most importantly my unborn daughter all weighed on me, asking me to find reprieve in a bottle. So, I did, and all that stress poured out of me whenever I drank too much. The pressure evolved into anger that I would direct at my wife when we disagreed, usually over my drinking. I never struck her, nor had I ever hit her, but the uncontrollable anger I exhibited frightened her. At least once she felt she should leave the house for her safety. Knowing if I want to be in my daughter’s life in a capacity that I would be proud of, I had to stop. I resolved to do so. Thus, this tragic tale of human foolishness reaches its present terminus (I apologize if I come across as pompous or anything of the sort).
My wife and I are trying to work through our shared problems. She’s suggested I see a therapist for my own issues. We’re also setting up time with a couple’s therapist. I’m looking into local AA chapters. Right now, the last bottle I drank is sitting on my desk empty with the date I began my abstinence “04-27-2022”. Hopefully in a year I’ll be writing about one year clean and how great it is to be a father.
ooglykraken 