Nobody realises how much alcohol is affecting my life. But it’s making me really depressed. If my boyfriend, or my dad, or anyone I worked with could read this they would be shocked. I highly doubt that they view me with someone as a problem.
I’ve never had a bad accident when drunk(just the odd mysterious bruise).
I’ve never been in trouble with the law.
I’ve never made any risky sexual decisions and I’ve not gotten into too much drama.
I’ve never upset someone badly through something I’ve said when drunk.
I’m generally someone who others would consider a loving and happy drunk.
Shame I couldn’t confirm this for you, because I rarely can accurately or fully remember past the first half of what I drink.
I have embarrassed myself by saying too much, being inappropriate, falling over, and being in a state, basically. I cringe to think how I must have looked. I’ve flirted with men despite having an amazing boyfriend (which wracks me with guilt), cancelled plans due to hangovers or the prospect of drinking, disappeared on nights out and left my friends wondering where I was.
I’ve not given myself 100% to my work or to my relationships because I’ve been recovering (usually mentally) from a blackout that occurred perhaps days before. I’ve avoided going anywhere due to my worries about what I’ve done during said blackouts. I’ve lost my credit card while out and had the hassle of cancelling it and wondering how I was going to explain to my parents why I need to borrow from them again.
I’ve wasted so much time and money drinking. I’ve wasted so much time worrying about my drinking. I’ve wasted the most time thinking about how great my life would be if I didn’t drink. My struggles are internal. I’ve not done anything too bad yet, but coupled with my slightly anxious, panic-attack prone disposition, I’ve come to realise that not drinking is something that will definitely benefit me. Yet time and time again I stop drinking for weeks at a time, but eventually I start back having a few drinks here and there, enjoying it immensely, worrying what the fuss was all about, until suddenly I’m waking up again wondering what the hell happened last night.
It’s amazing what we can force ourselves to forget.