There is a wide spectrum of addictive behavior. It invades slowly and shows itself in some really sneaky ways. Having a nose like an eggplant isn’t the only giveaway. 

“Alcoholics are just skeleton shells lying on a couch out in the rain with a nose full of trophy boogers and a mouth full of no teeth. That ain’t me.”

This may all be true, however please consider what addiction is. The definition of what it means to be an alcoholic or addict includes far less of everything you may have heard on the news or seen in movies up to this point.

The definition of addiction includes an unfortunately wide variety of weekend warrior, occasional bender and binge plans (scheduled or unscheduled) than one might think.

“You know, I wish everyone would just fuck off. I got a job. I pay the bills here. I’m doing great. Sure I party sometimes but I earned it.”

An alcoholic will do and say things they can barely remember. The family sees and hears things they can never forget.

It is tragically easy to fly by instruments, meaning we’re only looking at the control panel. Sure there’s some turbulence, but all indicators are that we’re doing super. Paycheck guage is on full. Got gas and smokes. Phone bill is paid. What’s the problem?

The problem is the definition of what an addict is. It includes flying into increasingly ugly weather, lightning and hail. It so often includes a bomb in the luggage … which so often is not discovered  before it starts blowing holes in things we love.

The definition includes, please hear this, faulty instruments. the gauges and dials lie. A good paycheck does not automatically equal no disease.

People with jobs go flat-line all the time. Have been drifting for some time. Typically they are the last ones to know. Planned to fly to Hawaii and woke up in Siberia.

“Look, I know I got problems. But, ALCOHOLIC … really?  I get real depressed. I’m isolating. I know I drink too much. I might BE an alcoholic. Who knows. But I’m good though. I don’t need your damn meetings. No thanks!”

This is me. This was me.

I know people like this now. They get pretty punched up emotionally over work or family or just life. The drinking starts. Maybe some recreational crack comes along. They wind up in tears.

They come to me, knowing I’m sober, and ask questions. I tell them to try some meetings. Tell them I’ll pick them up.

Then, since the sock drawer had been the problem all along, they clean like a demon for a weekend. By Monday morning they feel tons better so …

If they are alcoholic, then by definition this will all repeat itself over the coming months. Could take a few years, but its coming and it will only get worse. 

Alcoholics can hold out for years in on-again-off-again flash misery or the low, grinding dissatisfaction like a slow-mo upset.

“Look, I got kids.”

Yeah, but are you desperate yet?

Some meetings offer babysitting. Since people are dropping stone dead out there now, there are more resources available than ever before. 

If you’re desperate then make some calls. I promise it can still happen for you.

Bottom line is this-If you’re reading this then something must have happened to jar you a bit. This is a good thing.

Maybe start with a therapist. Maybe a priest or minister. Somebody. Get with somebody.

Be honest. Tell them the story. When the ask “Well how much do you drink now?”  tell them.

Bottom line is this-I had like a wonky trillion reasons to not show up at a meeting of recovery. Each one of them got wet and tired. They all fell away as I got cornered.

Getting cornered is a good thing. If you survive it, I’ll see you at the meeting

-Joenonymous