It’s the peak of summer. COVID restrictions are lifting. The pubs are reopening and Everyone seems keen for me to go. i don’t want to be a drunk anymore. It’s not fun. That life doesn’t work for me anymore but I can’t escape it.
when I broke up with ex I was a functional alcoholic. I don’t like the word functional because it implies I knew what I was doing, I definitely didn’t. I drank a lot to mask the pain but it didn’t interfere with my work life. My work colleagues were completely unaware. I briefly toyed with a healthier lifestyle but after doing that for a few months the addiction snuck up on me. It said you’ve proved you don’t need alcohol to function, so why not have a drink? It’ll be fun. It was a lie. And before I knew it I was back to square one. I can’t have just one beer. I can’t control myself. I need to have none.
lockdown has been hard because there’s no reason to say no. If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, why not get smashed today?
Now my brother has asked for a phone call before a potential meet-up next weekend. It’s been 18 months since I’ve seen any of my family. I haven’t missed them. We were never close. But in the 42 years he’s been alive he’s never asked me for a phone call. He’s had his own family and hasn’t paid much attention to me since I was 15. Whatever he wants it can’t be good. It makes me want to run straight to the alcohol isle at the supermarket. I never realised until tonight how big a trigger my brother is. He has no idea about my issues. He’s completely unaware of anything or anyone in my life.
my brother, my trigger.