Just Below the Surface: My Relationship With Alcohol


I have this frequent nightmare where I’m underwater, just below the surface of a pool. The water is as grey as the skies above, and I’m cold. So cold. There are brown autumn leaves resting on top of the water, gently rippling from the breeze above. Somehow I know that they are from my parents’ Catalpa tree.  I’m in their pool.  I stretch my hand toward the air, but for some reason I can’t reach the space where water and breeze meet.  And throughout the dream I’m calm. Too calm, even though I know I’m drowning.

Awake, I know the dream isn’t real.  But it is.

It starts with the sound of the cork squeaking out of the bottle, making my heart skip with anticipation.  Even as often as I hear it, it still feels forbidden and exciting. As I pour it, the weight of the bottle feels as familiar as that dream, down to the gurgling sound of the pool filling up.

But it’s the first sip that really gets me. The taste of the tart white or bitter red on my tongue. The feeling of warmth that coats my belly, gives me courage and makes me believe I’m funnier. It tells me I’m better with it, and I nod my head yes in agreement. I know I should stop at the bottom of the first glass, but I pour another and sometimes another.  My head is still above water, I think. I keep drinking.

And when I do, it drags me swiftly down. Instead of thrashing to save myself, I go calmly with chagrin upon my face. I know the place it takes me all too well, and I’m comfortable there, despite knowing the extent it holds me back and pushes me down.

At the bottom of my third glass, the numbness comes. Pain, hurt, bills, everything is gone. It’s only me and my stemless glass. Eventually, I sink.

I’m drowning again.

I’ve heard plenty of stories about how my grandfather loved the bottle a little too much. He would come home angry from the bars night after night, frightening my mom into tears.  And my mom started smoking as a young girl. She tried to quit for years, but never could.

Am I addicted? Hell if I know. I know I don’t feel addicted. I feel stuck. And I know I don’t want to be an addict. I don’t want the blood of an alcoholic, or a smoker, or this ticking time bomb of DNA to define me.  I want my work, my mind, and my kind nature to define me.  I want me to define me.

I am so fucking tired of the cycle. I’m tired of the headache every morning. And I’m tired of that nightmare. I want to dream of blue skies and rays of sunshine instead of grey waters and chill in my bones. I want to watch my children play with clear eyes, instead of through the fog induced by last night’s choices.

I’m also completely afraid. Afraid of knowing who I am sober. Afraid of regaining control. Afraid of asking for help. Afraid of not drinking. Am I ready to commit to that? Is that what I want? What I need?

That’s it. This is where it ends. It won’t control me, like it controlled my grandfather. I will not drown at the bottom of the bottle. It stops today, I swear.

Right after I finish this glass.

***

I wrote the essay above months ago with editing help from the folks at Yeah Write, but didn’t share it out of fear. And my situation hasn’t changed. I drink at least two glasses of wine five nights out of the week. I hate to read that on paper, but I don’t know how to change. Or where to begin the change. Maybe this essay will be it. Maybe not. But I have to start somewhere, because I deserve the chance.

Photo courtesy of Christopher Campbell on Unsplash


130 responses to “Just Below the Surface: My Relationship With Alcohol”

  1. Really great writing. The drowning and the Drinking with calm feelings is so interesting. Most alcoholics can not stop drinking once they start. You are not your angry grandfather, I don’t think. I’m curious what you do on the two nights you don’t have wine.

    Liked by 6 people

    • Typically the same thing I do on the nights I drink. I don’t really have wine until my kids go to bed. In my twenties I drank much more than now. Maybe it’s just a habit? I don’t feel sick or in withdrawal ever. Sometimes I think my anxiety has got something to do with it.

      Liked by 4 people

  2. This is incredible writing . From the dream to your application of it into your life. It’s always good to want the best for ourselves, so if the wine is a problem, by all means. But… Sometimes we just need something to help get us through… 🤔

    Liked by 4 people

  3. What a raw and personal piece. It’s so hard to get past a label once it’s given, but I would not be so readily willing to accept that to be true for you. I guess what I always have to wonder when I find myself being consumed. Is there an underlying reason I want to feel numb right now? And how to I fix that? Not super easy, but could be a start. I’ve never been a big drinker cuz of my dad, but I have had other vices. It’s very brave of you to put yourself out there in the open. ❤❤

    Liked by 6 people

    • I definitely agree. I really enjoyed your openness in this essay; Many of my family members have struggled with alcoholism. So I have always stayed away from it because I know what my family history is like: Saying that, I do have addictions with other things: Sugar, Caffeine, and I used to smoke cigarettes, but have been able to give that up. You are such a strong person to share your true feelings on the matter. AS I mentioned, with my family history, it was very nice to hear what someone goes through. Thank You for sharing your essay, and I loved your reply!

      Liked by 3 people

  4. It takes a lot of courage to be this vulnerable and I think you struck just the right balance in demonstrating your ambivalence. I, too, have the alcoholism/addiction DNA and have been on the precipice of having a serious problem twice in my life. As you said, alcohol numbs, and exploring why you want to get all the way to the numb feeling might be worthwhile. The other think you might think about is challenging yourself not to drink for x amount of time, and see how life feels without the wine.

    Liked by 5 people

  5. Thank you for sharing this, Danielle. From a writing standpoint, the dream metaphor works so well, especially as you contrast it with your daily life. You evoke the comfort of alcohol while showing the bleak reality of the next day. It is solidly written, not florid or hyperbolic, and that gives each word more power. From a personal standpoint, I applaud your courage for saying these things aloud, which is always the first step in any kind of recovery. Like many, I have alcoholism in my family. It is a cautionary tale. I wish you much peace and comfort as you explore this part of your life and encourage you to build relationships with those who can help you through it.

    Liked by 10 people

  6. This is an incredible piece, so many great lines, especially “I want me to define me.” I can relate on a lot of levels, although with a different “vice”. I just slowly did different things, little by little, to break the habit. I am much happier for it. Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 5 people

  7. Hi – I read your piece just now, and thought it was well-written, and blog-wise good enough to force me to actually break cover and comment! I heard a couple of podcasts from Radiolab that you might be interested in – http://www.radiolab.org/story/addiction/ is about how alcoholism is completely misunderstood, how alcoholics anon simply has never come even close to working, and asks what else is there (turns out there’s a small pill widely available that is catching on in prescriptions the USA), another one about a woman on medication for Parkinson’s that forced her to become an addict http://www.radiolab.org/story/91684-stochasticity/, Another thing of interest is the idea of placebo (and also the far lesser known, nocebo) effect, where you are affected by what you’re told – ie you feel guilt or bad because of the media or peer pressure or whatever – especially in areas where (like enjoying alcohol) scientific / medical understanding is poor- (therefore) and media driven old wives’ tales are rich. I now reckon it’s the fretting and worry that kills you more than anything else! Peace!

    Liked by 3 people

  8. Normal drinkers usually don’t ask: “Am I addicted?”. The good news is you don’t have to quit by yourself. Alcohol brings isolation. A well defined path is a “rut”. You need to take action. Do an assessment with a local treatment center and they can advise you regarding your potential need for inpatient or outpatient treatment. First break the physical addiction. This can be dangerous and therefore you should do this under expert care. Then you will need to break the emotional addiction that is brought on by a conflicted heart. In treatment you will experience “discovery”. After treatment is when true “recovery” begins. Go to an Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meeting. Read the Big Book of AA and you will be blessed beyond belief. Be brave and just take the first step. You won’t be sorry. I swear this to be true. I know from experience. Godspeed…

    Liked by 6 people

  9. This is an amazingly powerful piece of writing. Very open and honest and it’s brave of you to share it. Alcohol is a funny old beast. I watched it drown my Mother day after day after day till it killed her when I was 29 and my youngest sister just 13 (there were 4 of us). She’s been gone 32 years now and we still miss her every day, her presence in our lives, the sadness of not being able to share exciting news with her, and the knowledge that she missed out on so many major milestones in our lives is painful. In my twenties I started drinking, just the odd one here or there from time to time and before I knew it I was getting drunk on a fairly regular basis. At the time I was in a very abusive relationship and I used the alcohol to ‘drown’ the pain. Then I fell pregnant (after being told I could never have children) and right there and then my perception changed. 36 years later I still have the occasional drink (about 3 or 4 times a year LOL) that I really enjoy and now and then I get tipsy, but since she died, I’ve never wanted to see life through my Mother’s eyes.
    All the very best for your future.
    p.s. I’m now addicted to tea 😉

    Liked by 6 people

  10. Such a great post. I feel the frustration and vulnerability in your words. It’s important to realize that asking yourself these questions is a huge step in making sure you don’t fall victim to addiction. I know many people who drink wine all week. Not sure if it’s an addiction at all, but asking yourself that is pretty responsible in my eyes ☺️.

    Liked by 3 people

  11. I have lived this and thank you for sharing your story, for giving words to this experience. Brene Brown put out some great stuff on alcohol and numbing, the space that exists just shy of true addiction. Numbing is a way we manage our pain, shame, anger – all the emotions that we don’t have the energy or time to really deal with. Brene’s point that we cannot numb selectively, that if we numb one area in our lives, we numb all of them, made me give up wine for a month to see what would happen. (Like you, I was a 2-3 glass/night gal.) It was excruciating and liberating, scary and comforting. If you haven’t already, I think you might find great comfort, affirmation and inspiration in her work.

    Liked by 3 people

  12. Hi, Danielle. First time I’ve written any comment anywhere on WordPress. Just wanted you to know that I”m dealing with exactly the same thing…..as my username would indicate. I, too, am a two-glass-a-night drinker, but often two and a half to three drinks. Unlike you, I drink every night. My drinking actually used to be a lot worse, much more in volume. I became a Christian in 2006, and I was able to stop for a while and then resumed drinking again. Somewhere along the way, I did get help from above to at least cut dramatically down both the amount and number of hours I drank. But I’m still stuck. I went to AA for a while, even Celebrate Recovery, but because my drinking is so lightweight, I find it hard to relate with the hard-core stories. I hope you continue to post about this issue. It’s a big help to many people.

    Liked by 4 people

  13. This is beautifully written and l admire you for sharing. A habit turns into addiction when there is a compulsion to continue despite negative consequences. I wish I would have listened to my intuition, the voice that kept me wondering if I was spending too much time thinking about and consuming alcohol. I had to hit rock bottom before I admitted I couldn’t be that mom who stops at the first glass because the poison sinking into my blood felt just too damn good to stop. Now in recovery, I find healing through writing and in the joy of living in the present moment enjoying my kids and watching the sunsets with a clear set of eyes. And no headaches. The road to recovery led to a rediscovery of ME, and I am learning to love myself again. The road wasn’t easy, but the freedom is worth it. A whole lot better than that second glass ever was…Thanks again for sharing.

    Liked by 5 people

  14. I agree with so many others who are complimenting your style. You are brave and very obviously living in your truth–not everyone can claim that.

    Liked by 3 people

  15. Aww…touching, so captivating, I could sense your fears through your write up, so afraid not to be like your grandfather.
    Personally I don’t think you are addicted to alcohol… a glass or two to release stress after a hectic day can’t be termed excessive, but for your own rest of mind, be determined to reduced it to a glass for now, no matter the urge. Gradually you may go a week without a glass if you set it as a target from reducing to a glass per night to a glass per week. You would be surprised what you can achieve when you set your mind on a particular goal. Anything is possible…

    Liked by 3 people

  16. Don’t know if anyone is ever completely satisfied with what they put on paper. From my point of view, you should be satisfied with, and proud of this post. It is very well written to convey your experience with wine. Keep writing and posting-even if from the bottom of the third glass.

    Liked by 3 people

  17. What a wonderful article with such good imagery. I have written a few posts about my alcoholism and recovery. Oddly enough, I, too, wrote a blog post on Oct. 3rd about my alcoholism. Not that I think you are an alcoholic. Only you will decide that. But there are great supports out there for you, no matter what you decide, in the WordPress community as well as in your community at large.. I write about a plethora of topics, as it seems you do as well. Congratulations on the Discover feature, on your well-written piece, but mostly on your willingness to self-reflect. 😃

    Liked by 4 people

  18. Wow!!! I’m not sure how long ago this was written, but the piece captivated me.I think You are totally amazing for being brave and totally honest … This would not have been easy, when you are secretly fighting or doing something its easier to get lost and forgotten. But when you put it out there… it a dangerous and bold step… dangerous because the world WILL judge you from their remote point of views.. but bold because you’ve decided to hell with it….you made a decision to be accountable knowing once its out you cannot retract. One day.. and one day at a time you will…. when you find the source or the reason it will finally raise you to the top… and I know you will inspire the world that with God all change is possible …That there is nothing that we cannot over come…. I’ll be remembering you and sending up flowers or prayers..

    Liked by 3 people

  19. Yep, you are “one of us”, without a doubt. This is a lovely treatise on the subjective experience of yet-another-drunk. I wish I could stop.

    Liked by 3 people

  20. I love this piece. The beginning/dream really drew me in. Great job in correlating it with your alcohol enthusiasm, and yes I’m also an alcohol enthusiast (not abuser, enthusiast lol). I can relate to what you’re feeling and it’s not a bad thing. Especially when you have the extra responsibility of raising children. It becomes more difficult to enjoy the single life benefits

    Liked by 3 people

  21. I too was a couple of glasses a night drinker. One day I woke up knowing I didn’t want to drink anymore. Today, I’ve been sober 14 years! My emotions no longer center on fear. One fear at a time, I learned how to live life again. You’re article really hit home with me. How could I be an alcoholic when I didn’t seem to drink that much? The problem is one drink is enough to effect my emotions…especially the fear. The wine made it go away for awhile, but in reality alcohol actually causes anxiety! I was depressed and drinking a depressant! The best decision I made was to give it up. I needed people who had quit to help me through the journey of sober living. A.A. did that for me. (hated it at first , though) There is nothing like feeling real joy…not joy from a bottle. Best of luck discovering who you really are. Don’t worry about the labels. Just give sober living a try. In time,
    you’ll be happier not drinking depressant!

    Liked by 3 people

  22. Very resonating, as I believe we all have our addictions. For some, it’s wine. For others, it’s words of affirmation from others – or exercise – or smoking – or running. That was a beautiful piece, thank you for sharing. If you’re at all interested in some really cool online mind-bending, philosophy-changing, consciousness-engineering stuff, I can tell you about a program I started using not too long ago. Just let me know, beautiful!

    Liked by 4 people

  23. I know this feeling all too well. I’m only 21, but drinking is my go to. My friends always joke that I’m an alcoholic, so when I hear it too often, it actually brings me down. Sometimes, I start to question myself too. So maybe it’s true. I don’t know, but I do know that this isn’t the life i want forever. I don’t want to bring my (future) kids up in a life where I’m like this. I want them to learn the good in me, not the bad. This was such a good read, and a really brave move for the writer. Stay strong. ❤

    Liked by 3 people

  24. Sending you a huge hug. Thank you for drawing such a vivid picture and for showing others what you’re going through. You’re very brave!
    Sometimes I feel that I might be addicted to sadness. I don’t like it, but it is overwhelming and if I slip it haunts me for days..

    Liked by 3 people

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