Breh, I walked with you through this story. I felt every word of it. That's exactly what being an alcoholic looks like. The key to the story is the PROGRESSION of the disease (and the digression of the man). That drinking shyt starts out fun and cool as hell, then it creeps up on you after some years. For some sooner, some later, but it always creeps up on you IF you have the genetic predisposition and/or the brain disease called ALCOHOLISM.I'm not sure if I was ever an alcoholic or addicted. I think I probably qualify tho.
Started drinking at 21 in college. Countless good memories were made, and it's easy to see how alcohol became such a crutch for me being that I made so many positive associations with drinking during those early years.
It's also where I picked up the bad habit of binge drinking. I didn't really drink every day, but when Thursday would come around, my housemates and I would never fail to pick up a handle. We'd pour up and sip as quick as we could before we'd go out, each of us believing that we'd be saving money since we wouldn't buy overpriced drinks at the bar. That never worked tho, cause all it took was for one of us to buy rounds before we were fukkin up numerous shots or beers at the bar.
No hangovers, I was working out or balling up the next day, easy. Wasn't nobody fukkin with my clique, we grew so tight that I'm glad to say we're still close to this day. &The college girls were thirstin so heavy, had me real life acting a fool, disrespecting women because I had so many options.
I moved back to my hometown with no job lined up post grad, often finding myself isolated and idle. I was growing anxious and depressed, the post college blues hitting me hard. I was desperately trying to keep the good times from drying up, so I'd turn to the liquor, like it was the secret solution to all my problems.
It was never an every night thing, but I knew that as soon as the weekend came around, I HAD to check out of my mind, and check into a bottle. It started off innocuous enough, fun nights with old and new faces alike kept me preoccupied, too distracted to face my problems.
But I was dwindling at a painfully slow pace. The nights stopped being fun; the hangovers started feeling like concussions; and instead of alcohol acting as a sort of bridge for my social life, it became a barrier that actively hindered me from making new friends, and otherwise destroyed what little social circle I had in my hometown.
When I finally did get a job, I wasn't at my best. My job performance teetered between barely acceptable and worthy of termination. I was ashamed and debated if I was good enough. I carried a youthful indifference, but I was just in denial.
It wasn't an every day thing, but I was so desperate, and I wouldn't stop. I wanted to believe I could keep them good days going, so I didn't give myself any breaks. At that point, a week without drinking was worthy of celebrating, by drinking.
The nights turned ugly. I was miserable and the alcohol wasn't masking it any more. I rarely blacked out, but I had plenty of nights where I'd drink myself sick, clearly a form of self harm most likely done as a hopeless call for help.
No one came though or called me out on it. Most folks encouraged it to some degree. I wonder why in retrospect, it was clear that I was doing too much.
This post became a lot longer than I anticipated. It's the first time I've really reflected this thoroughly, and I'm glad I possess such a clear recollection of my ordeal. Sorry for the wall of text tho brehs.
I started my post by saying I didn't know if I was an alcoholic, but after all that typing, it's clear that I was. I suppose I only ever doubted it because I've been able to cut it out from my life completely without much issue psychologically or physically. 2019 has been the first year since I graduated where I actually have a positive outlook on my life going forward. I'm doing good and that ain't no posturing.
Peeps think alcoholism means you drink too much. No, there are heavy drinkers who aren't alcoholics. There are dry drunks who don't drink at all, but the second they do...down the rabbit hole they go. One way I heard it put is we have an "allergy to alcohol". Not exactly like an allergy, but that kinda helps peeps understand.
What I also got from your story is that you are what I call "high on the evolutionary scale". Being a black man is already being at the top of the genetic pool. But you have the intelligence and attractiveness (based on the choosing females) that favors evolution. In short, you were born to win.
I appreciate you telling your story. Glad to hear you got the monkey in a chokehold and are able to reflect clearly on it. Keep going, we need more sober black alpha males in this bytch to lead our people out of despair.
