Uncategorized

A Fun-Filled Photographic Catalogue of Addiction

I haven’t written much about my alcoholism on here, partly because sometimes it’s just not a focal point in my day-to-day life, but partly because this is my happy place. Alcoholism by its very nature requires one be filled with bad memories, shame, guilt, and other nasties that cause pain, for both the alcoholic and their loved ones. Who wants to relive any of that? Certainly not I, and anyway, that’s what AA is for: reliving your shame so you won’t be tempted to repeat it. Or something.

But having alcoholism has played an enormous part in who I’ve become and how I live my life, and it sometimes the condition manifests itself in amusing ways. Like on our anniversary, Mike and I were dining in a very classy restaurant, the cherry-paneled-walls kind that plays jazz and requires sport coats. When the waitress asked if we’d like to see the wine list, my deadpan response was, “What kind of virgin mixed drinks do you serve?” If that doesn’t make you feel like a twelve-year old kid tagging along with her parents at the country club, then nothing will.

Want to know what makes you feel even more like an overprivileged twelve-year old? Really enjoying your virgin Mai Tai with you lobster tail and grilled veggies.

That’s me, ever the picture of sophistication.

My cavalier attitude towards an admittedly serious subject may be offensive to some of you, but I find laughter to be the best way of coping with such a scary and isolating disorder/disease/pox/psychosis whatever you want to call it. If you can’t laugh at the worst things about yourself, you’re in trouble. Case in point: Disney villains. Ever see Maleficent or Jafar laugh at their weaknesses? No. And do they win a lifetime of fulfillment and satisfaction in the end of their respective movies? No. Point made.

When I first tell people I don’t drink, they invariably ask “why?” in the same manner in which they would respond to discovering I sacrificed my firstborn child to the full moon. They may as well ask, “Why would anyone choose a life of boring squaredom without this oh-so-important life-enhancing substance? What kind of freak are you?” When I tell them it’s because I have alcoholism and I don’t want to die at the age of 35 of liver failure and/or some variation of suicide, I can see the unasked question “Were you that irresponsible?” on their faces. Despite the rudeness of the implied question, the answer is yes, yes I was.

Among other things. Simplicity is not this disease’s strong suit.

After admitting my alcoholism, I just know people immediately assign me to one of several stereotypes:

  1. Bag lady
  2. Party animal
  3. Hypochondriac
  4. Lunatic

Only number four is true in my case.

When I reply to the “why don’t you drink?” question in the future, I should diagram it so they understand better, because “alcoholic” sounds like a terminal diagnosis (you can’t drink again, ever???). No – better yet – pictures!

Here’s what I look like sober:

Here’s what I look like when I drink:

No, wait, I found a better one:

Ooo, this is fun!

“What an excellent day for an exorcism.”

Wait, how did that one get in there?

For me, it wasn’t that hard – the pictures prove how obvious it was.

Disclaimer: no, actually it wasn’t that easy, but it’s better to let the pictures explain, since those who aren’t alcoholics mostly don’t understand how it works. The alcohol takes over your brain, like a…wait, I have another illustration!

Okay, Battlestar Galactica.

There are Cylons that don’t know they’re Cylons until they are reprogrammed from the mothership or wherever. That’s like alcoholism. I’m a Cylon that knows she’s a Cylon, but for a long time I didn’t know that I was a Cylon. That’s how alcoholism works.

This is what Cylons look like when they don’t know they’re robots programmed to destroy humanity. Just like alcoholics.

Shit, I’ve probably just confused you more.

Actually, that is alcoholism, my friends. Tampering with judgement and clarity since the dawn of man. Because I’m betting that soon after that whole serpent/temptation/fall scenario, Adam got right on that fermentation process. I know would have.

Footnote:

For those who want to know what my husband looks like:

Just kidding. He’s way cuter in real life. He does have the same attitude towards my propensity for reading, however.

 

 

8 Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

Follow

Get every new post on this blog delivered to your Inbox.

Join other followers: