Taking stock of my drinking ‘career’ and what it means today

 

Apart from two escapades, one as a 15-year-old and one as a 16-year-old, I never touched alcohol until after I turned 18, despite being involved in the party scene for a considerable time.  But it was a sharp descent down the slippery slope once I started — leading to my parents once remarking that I had become a “weekend alcoholic.”  For someone who had resisted the urge to drink for the first year that I had my driver’s licence, I quickly become notorious for how much drink I could stow.  I don’t say this to brag or anything, more as an indication of how quickly alcohol can get its claws into you.

Some of my early escapades included sculling/chugging whole jugs (1,100ml) of beer and sometimes up to four of them.  There was one occasion where I sculled 750ml of rum!  An average ‘night out’ involved drinking up to that amount over a 5-6-hour period, and I could extend that by double if we doubled the period.  I could drink and keep on drinking.  Into the bargain I would smoke 40 or 50 cigarettes.  Whilst I would have considered myself an average partygoer, most of my contemporaries drank less, but those I ended up spending my time with mirrored my use of alcohol and other substances, namely cannabis.

Later in my drinking career, once I had settled down and had commenced family, my use of alcohol became more refined, but only slightly less dangerous.  I became a connoisseur of wine, which was just a cover so I could drink with a nice meal, then I started brewing my own beer.  As an afternoon shift worker, I would arrive home at 11.30pm and find it ‘easier to sleep’ after two 750ml bottles of home brew.

Ultimately, it got to the point where I could count how many drinks I could afford to have to feel drunk enough, yet not have a hangover the next day; 11 to 12 standard drinks were that measure.  If I had 15 standard drinks or more I was headed for a hangover.  I only ever had a handful of genuine blackout experiences, but I so frequently drank at dangerous levels.  While I could control the higher end of my consumption, something I didn’t seem to be able to control was the pattern of my drinking; besides a few years as a competitive bodybuilder, a time in my life when health (and bodyweight!) was a priority, and also a time when I couldn’t afford to drink, I was still characteristically a weekend alcoholic overall.  And apart from being on call every second week as an emergency responder, I was free to binge at other times.

I worked hard during the week to earn a decent drink on a Friday night.  Saturday night was the same.  And when I was really struggling it wasn’t unusual to ‘tie one on’ for the Sunday night too.  Quite a few Monday mornings, especially toward the end of my drinking career, I arrived at work rather seedy.  A great irony consisted in the fact that I had a role in managing an alcohol and other drug program as a safety manager, and breathalysing truck and train drivers (many of them teetotallers).  Yes, I did feel quite the hypocrite!

My drinking career ended abruptly on September 20, 2003.  That’s another story that I’ve written on several times.  One of the first things I noticed on stopping drinking was just how wonderful it was to have a clear head.  I still love the feeling of sobriety — to be in control of my faculties.  And yes, even a couple of drinks affects perception.  Once I stopped drinking, I was destined not to restart.  I really felt that God gave me a grace with which to abstain.

I’m always interested in the topic of the use and abuse of alcohol and other drugs.  These are slippery-slope devices.  Start, and you don’t know how hellish the finish will be.  And yet society romanticises the idea of drinking and gambling just to name two.  You only have to look at the proliferation of advertising for both of these, and you can see the problem is systemic through society.

In this COVID-19 time, I’ve been interested in the effect of lockdown and the impact on drinking patterns of at-risk drinkers.  According to The Lancet (August 4, 2020):

“... lockdown represents a risk factor for increasing alcohol consumption in people with alcohol use disorders and relapse for those who were previously abstinent.  Those who do relapse are at a high risk of harmful drinking and require a tailored approach for follow-up and intervention.  Support from alcohol liaison services could prevent relapse during lockdown.”

Many would suggest that such findings would be predictable, and the effect of lockdown should presume higher levels of alcohol consumption.  Recent lockdowns have been necessary, but there are far-reaching consequences in regard to safety in homes everywhere.

What I take from my drinking career is the slippery-slope nature of alcoholism.  There was a time when I really believed I would NEVER become alcoholic.  Yet, alcohol certainly soon put paid to such a naïve assumption.  Alcohol becomes a problem in too many lives, and very often it is functional lives that it affects most of all; people who hide it well beneath their otherwise ordered lives.

If you have a problem with alcohol, or you know someone who has a problem with it, my advice would be to heed the warnings before it’s too late.  In many ways it remains to be seen whether I dodged a bullet or not with my consumption.  It’s only when you have your own children, and they begin to have children, that you realise the importance of your health.  Whilst looking after our health is not a guarantee, it is a very good predictor for outcomes over the lifespan.

It was only through walking into the rooms of AA that I was able to put my drinking career behind me.  You quickly find that the only thing that stands between you and your addiction is honesty and the willingness to enter a journey of transformation and recovery.

Photo by Joyce Romero on Unsplash