Kitty's Alcoholism Story: The Sleeping Lion

by Kitty
(Staffordshire, England)

The horror of it all. The complete and utter devastation and gut retching car crash of a life. I'm ashamed to write these pages but know in my heart that I will have to purge this somewhere.

I have not been able to find comfort in the company of other human beings and being able to open myself up and admit my complete and utter powerlessness. It all seems like meaningless platitudes every time I open my mouth to speak I feel an apology coming on.

In my head these things sound fine and make sense. But brought to the cold light of day I just feel stupid, small and pathetic. And I hate feeling like that most of all. This, in truth, is probably why I cannot bear to share any part of my illness with anyone. And I do think it is an illness.

I know I was born this way. The first time I tasted alcohol I got drunk. I was 12 maybe. At a family party, my parents didn't drink really. No influence there my friends. Once alcohol enters my blood stream some other chemical is triggered. An overwhelming feeling of not being satisfied consumes me and can only be tamed by more drink, until I can drink no more, not by choice either, its either run out or I've passed out.

I also used to think I got drunk because I was sexually abused as a child. Two separate issues. If I had never been sexually abused I would still have an alcohol problem. From the get go I knew I was different when it came to alcohol. I couldn't understand why after having a drink I so desperately craved another.

Other people didn't seem to have this feeling and seemed to be happy with what they had got. But It has always been that way for me. Once alcohol enters my blood stream my whole body screams for more. And then I am chasing the dragon. Of course you get worse. By this very definition it gets worse. There's not enough alcohol in the world that can satisfy.

I say it's an illness because I believe it's inherited. In the research I have looked into there usually is a relative that has also been afflicted. I maybe jumping at correlations but I feel this trait is just 'there' and always will be 'there' in me.

So why, knowing that you cannot drink alcohol without getting horribly drunk, knowing that I was born with an 'allergy' towards alcohol. Knowing that the last time I had a drink I lost a week in my life and was so shockingly evilly ill it took weeks to recover, AGAIN, do I somehow manage to find myself down that path?

I don't know and it drives me nuts. It must be on some psychological level I convince myself I'll be alright this time or something happens in my life and I turn to the only tool in my belt I have ever used to cope with bad things 'oblivion'

I've been sober for a while now and no plans to drink but I said that last time. I wish I didn't have this set of cards dealt me but I do. It's not as simple as laymen think i.e. 'just don't drink' somehow, it doesn't work like that. I wish we didn't live in such an alcohol centred culture that perpetuates, glamorises and exacerbates this disease.

I wish I could share with another human being all my thoughts and feelings about my illness but I can't. I'm too ashamed of what I am. No, happy endings or this is how I got sober I'm afraid. I've listened to too many recovered alcoholics preach and then see them fall so hard.

The bottom line is that this is a battle that I fight every day. Not drinking is just a part of it. And I'm always dreading that the sleeping lion will wake up.