Not drinking.

Duh, right?

Well, why is that? Why can’t we just stop or why is it hard to be sober?

At the beginning, middle and end of my drinking, it served a purpose. Sure, sometimes it was to have fun. But, most of the time it was to alleviate something. In the beginning, alcohol helped me in social situations. A light buzz made me feel like I could fit in and talk to people. But why couldn’t I when I wasn’t drinking? What was going on at the age of 14 that I needed a social lubricant? In fact, I’ve heard people say they could have used a drink the first day of kindergarten. Why?

I was uncomfortable in my skin. This is where it all began for me. Something was wrong from the time I could remember; I just didn’t have the language to verbalize it. In fact, I am not sure I even knew something was wrong, because this anxious discomfort was all I felt my entire life. I felt separate and different from my friends and family. It was easy for me to blame my home situation because I had no idea so many other factors were in play. Feeling different became a belief and now I was different from other people. And I was deeply embarrassed of it, which eventually turned into great shame.

I was in my head all the time. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. Negative, anxious thoughts. About everything. I was strategic almost with my words and actions, carefully trying to figure out who and what you wanted me to be. Or even just how to be more like you. I didn’t realize at the time I was living a very one dimensional life – a life trapped inside myself. No wonder I was a selfish kid who occasionally misbehaved. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts and uncomfortable feelings, I just couldn’t function normally in the world.

I looked, unconsciously, for escapes, not even knowing I needed to escape. Food was a huge comfort as a child. So was playing make believe. Even reading or watching television helped.

But then I discovered alcohol without really knowing I discovered alcohol. I just remember wanting to drink because of the way it made me feel. It made me feel cool. More importantly, it made me feel happy. Something I was not used to feeling. I remember wanted to drink any time I had the opportunity to. Looking back, it was definitely a craving for alcohol even though I was years away from a traditional physical addiction.

When I got into college, drinking was just what you did. I also had the added pressure of being away from home and a new boyfriend that helped me set rules around my drinking. I had to get to work, classes and exercise first no matter what. The stakes were too high that I couldn’t afford to fail, which I truly think kept the thread in my sweater throughout those fours years. Not to mention that it wasn’t all that easy to get alcohol underage at the time.

Hence, turning 21 was a real turning point. That full access to alcohol was like a green light to drink. I also discovered bars – a magical place where everyone drank and had a good time. I was hooked. This changed the rules to one simple plan – no drinking before 8:00 p.m.

After college and a tough breakup, things fell apart and I experienced the next wave of my alcoholism. Not even the drinking part, the mental part. I was lost. School provided structure and now I was without a place to be every day. Those old feelings of being separate from my peers returned in full force. I simply couldn’t comprehend how to find a job or get a car or health insurance. I was baffled and unsure how everyone else just knew what to do. I was wound up so tight in high school and college that my alcoholism couldn’t fight it’s way to the top. But now it could.

My anxiety ratcheted up. I was also depressed. Not to mention reeling from childhood trauma. I lived each day for my 8 p.m. bottle of white wine. It felt like I held my breath all day long until I could take a sip and get some relief from how bad I felt. I truly thought there were reasons I felt as bad as I did other than alcoholism, which is why people become addicted to alcohol. If this would get better, if I had more money, if I could get him back, etc., I wouldn’t drink. Period. It took until I was well into recovery to realize that feeling like shit is just par for the course. It is the disease.

And I continued the cycle of if/when for many years, ever increasing my physical dependency on alcohol, which only added to my depression and anxiety. I needed the alcohol, on a daily and then hourly basis, to treat my symptoms. I even tried getting on pysch meds, which I am a huge fan of and definitely helped in it’s own right. But, they do not treat my alcoholism. They did little to fill the vast empty void I felt in my chest or slow my incessant negative thinking. Nothing worked like alcohol did.

(Before you think I am not a fan of psych meds – please don’t. I take them every damn day and think they are wonderful for treating mental health issues.)

I could never catch the dangle carrot of if/when no matter how hard I tried. And the physical addiction had taken it’s toll on me. I was at rock bottom and asked for help. I figured out I was an alcoholic and that stopping drinking was the only way out. I got that. Loud and clear. But what I wasn’t expecting was to learn and realize all I’ve written about here. That I have a disease that isn’t cured by putting down a drink. I ironically have an illness that was treated by the one thing that was also killing me.

So when I say the hardest thing for an alcoholic to do is not drink this is what I mean. Right at that very moment not drinking meant not alleviating my symptoms. Recovery has been an entire journey of learning how to treat the illness with other things besides alcohol. And the first step in the journey was learning that I had a problem that needed treated. I didn’t even know that! That is why it’s hard to stay sober… but it gets so much easier over time if you put the work into it!