Am I an Alcoholic?

I recently read a good article on the BBC News site which asked whether the word 'alcoholic' was so contaminated by association with down and outs that perhaps we needed another word for those who still have some control over their life but have a drink problem. (full article here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-25639406)

This made me think of my late step-mother who died from alcoholism but who felt so out of place at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting that she only went once.  If she had fitted in it might have saved her life but she felt excluded for not depending on crime to feed her habit.

I also remembered a psychologist friend telling me that the person who drank a sherry 5 nights a week when they got home from work was more likely to be an alcoholic than someone who went out and got drunk 2 nights a week.  This is where the problem really starts because the person who is medically an alcoholic may not have a drink problem whilst the one who isn't addicted may have the problem.

This is personal for me as for the last few years I have been trying to work out if I was an alcoholic or not.  I had got as far as saying I couldn't say I wasn't but, at the same time, I didn't feel comfortable saying I was an alcoholic.  That I had a serious drink problem was beyond doubt but was I an alcoholic in the way the word is defined medically?  In a way the answer is irrelevant as I have to live as if I am an alcoholic but life is always easier if we can put a label on things.

The two occasions I have allowed myself a little alcohol are Communion services and family meals, particularly over Christmas.  This Christmas I allowed myself to have more that a small glass of red to see how I managed; with mixed results.  Outwardly it was successful as I didn't over drink and I really enjoyed the wines but inwardly it wasn't so straight forward.  I didn't serve the wine so I don't know if I'd be OK pouring it myself and I could feel myself getting tense inside - one of the feelings that made want to drink too much.

So I still don't know whether I fit either the medical or common usage definitions of an alcoholic but I have to assume I am or the alternative is just too bad.

The Problem with Drink 3

Since I posted the The Problem with Drink back in June something has bugged me, something I didn't feel was quite correct or honest.  It was this phrase:

I wasn’t an alcoholic (I would stop for periods when I wanted to)

 You see I'm not sure that it's correct because I don't know when I last stopped drinking for anything but a medical reason.  I had managed to give alcohol up for Lent in the past but then when someone pointed out that you shouldn't fast on Holy Days I was 'allowed' to have a drink on Sunday. 

This leaves me both with and without a problem.  I have a problem because I shouldn't, in all honesty, say I'm not an alcoholic as I don't know if I could stop drinking whenever I wanted to.  It isn't a problem because not knowing means I have to proceed as if I am an alcoholic.  Under tightly controlled conditions (birthday meals, weddings, Christmas etc) I will still allow myself a small glass of wine but that is all.  Even this may prove to be too much in the longer term and I'll have to give up alcohol totally; I just don't know.


So, for now, my answer to the question "Are you an alcoholic" has to be "I don't know, I may well be."

Amy Winehouse RIP

Today Amy Winehouse died at the tragically young age of 27.  A rare talent that never got near to fulfilling the potential that she showed when she burst onto the music scene; another member of the 27 Club.

As one who has had to face up to an alcohol problem, admittedly not as bad as her apparent drug problems, she has my sympathy. You continue doing something even though you know it is bad for you and bad for those around you because...? You don't know why. But it has a hold on you that you can only break when you admit you have a problem; not just say you have a problem but be honest with the inner most core of your being that you have a problem. At that point you have a chance of breaking the grip and being free again.  It is no good others telling you that you have a problem because the thing that grips you stops that message getting to your core; stops you admitting it to yourself.

I was lucky as I had a breakdown and ended up on medication that meant I had to stop drinking but even then it took me a year to get to the point where I could honestly face up to what I was doing to myself and those around me. I was able to make that step but tragically Amy Winehouse either didn't or couldn't.  So tonight I hold her in prayer before a loving God, praying that in His love He will take and hold this broken child of His creation giving her the love and peace that evaded her in this world.

The Problem with Drink 2

So no sooner have posted about my personal issues with alcohol than it hits the headlines again.

First up was this: FA Cup to be sponsored by Budweiser beer .  We already had the Carling Cup (League Cup) and now the main football cup competition will also be sponsored by beer.  Now that tobacco is no longer allowed to sponsor sports events it looks as if alcohol has moved in to fill gap.  Nothing wrong with that in itself but when drinking has become a major social issue is it good for the country to have alcohol, which can harm us, linked to sport, which should be good for us?

Then this morning one of the first things I heard on the news was this Parents' behaviour 'can influence teen drinking'  Now if I hadn't already posted about this after talking to my children I would, correctly, have felt incredibly guilty.  The terrible thing is that if I had still been drinking I would have forced this information through some sort of filter in my mind to say that it didn't apply to me. But it did and all I can do is to say here publically that I am sorry that my drinking has had a bad effect on my children.

The Problem with Drink

I recently read an article about the Bishop of Stafford condemning binge drinking as sin; actually what he said was “Alcohol abuse is one of the major ‘sins’ of our time – and it is one that governments do very little to prevent.” and I agree with him.  We now have a society in which significant proportions go out not to have a drink with friends but to get drunk without any thought for the costs to the whole of society in policing them and treating them when they hurt themselves, others or do permanent damage to their bodies.  Unfortunately bishops are no longer respected figures whose pronouncements have the ear of government but are considered to be out of touch with the modern world and so they can be ignored; even when they are right.

People who know me may well be saying “hypocrite” knowing that I like a drink and have often had more than is good for me and, in all likelihood, for those around me.  To that I have no answer except to say that I now acknowledge that I had a problem and I no longer drink as it is incompatible with one of my medications.  That, however, is only part of the story as I wasn’t an alcoholic (I would stop for periods when I wanted to) but my drinking was one of the ways I was trying to cope with the depression that had been part of my life since I was in my teens. While I admit that I like good beer, full bodied red wines and malt whisky they, in themselves, were not the problem; I was drinking, and drinking too much, to dull the inner pain of depression.  In the end this didn’t work and I end up in what my wife called the ‘loony bin’ for 2½ weeks.

It was only then, and through months of counselling, that I could openly admit what I knew deep inside – I had a drink problem.  When I was put on Prozac I had to give up drinking as it won’t work properly when combined with alcohol but this has given me the opportunity to not drink and to begin to appreciate not drinking. I am limited to the small glass of wine I am allowed at special celebrations such as birthdays, anniversaries and my son’s forthcoming wedding and that is all. I had thought that if I ever stopped taking Prozac I would be able to have the odd drink but I now realise that this won’t be possible as I rarely stop at the ‘odd drink.’  So I am now going to say openly something that inside I have known for some time: I have to give up alcohol. 

I have to give up alcohol not only for myself but for those around me, family and friends, who have had to put up with me drinking too much.  For years I have kidded myself that the only person I was putting at risk was me but I have just read the book ‘Jesus, my father, the CIA and me’ by Ian Morgan Cron and it made me realise how much I have damaged my family (and possibly others) by my drinking. I can’t go back and undo that damage but I can make sure I stay clear of drink so that I don’t make the same mistakes in the future.

I will still allow myself the small glass for celebrations but that is all or I will slowly (or quickly) fall back into drinking too much.  Alcohol in itself is not the problem but there are some of us whose genetic makeup makes us vulnerable to its hold even though this can take years to make itself apparent but once it does our best hope is to steer clear and not drink.

I know I haven’t explained myself very well so I have tried to put what happened to me into a poem.

I like a drink.

I like the taste of good beer.

I like the taste of full bodied red wine.

I like the taste of malt whisky.

But somehow that stopped being enough

I needed a drink.

Not for itself,

But to dull the pain.

The pain of being.

The pain of being me.

The pain of living.

The pain of living with depression.

At first it was just a drink.

Then it took more.

Enough to make me hide it

From those closest to me.

I needed the drink

Not for itself

But to kill the pain.

Then I could cope.

A couple of pain dulled hours

And I could cope with the pain.

For a while.

But I wasn’t coping.

The pain was building;

Building until even the drink didn’t help.

It was only then

When all hope had gone

That I could admit the truth.

The truth that drink didn’t help.

That it just hid the problem.

Hid it from me.

Hid it until it was too big to hide.

Too big for me

To cope.

It was only as the pain washed over me

That I could confront it,

Find the wounds

And bind them.

Some wounds will heal.

Other have to be cleaned

And dressed

So they don’t spread infection.

And that means no drink.

So the wounds can close

The infection die

And with them

The pain.

Christmas

With only a visit from my sister-in-law and family to go tomorrow I have survived Christmas. This may not seem much of achievement to most people but this year, for me, it is.

Firstly this is our last Christmas as a family; by next year my daughter will be married and celebrating Christmas with her husband. There were just the 4 of us as our usual Christmas guests, my father and my wife's aunt, both died last year so it was fairly quiet.

Secondly I developed a bad cold the weekend before Christmas which then turned into a chest infection. I'm on antibiotics and steroids and have managed most Christmas events although I missed the midnight service and going as a family to see the Wasps v Harlequins match at Twickenham today. (RATS - Quins lost so my Wasps supporting daughter is going to be insufferable)

Finally this has been an alcohol free Christmas for me but not the rest of them. At the beginning of November I had some sort of breakdown and I'm now on medication which seems to be helping but does mean I can't have any alcohol - a shame as we had some good claret from father for Christmas day and I was on non-alcoholic wine.

So I survived and now look forward to a new year with some trepidation as there are going to have to be some major changes in my life and, as yet, it isn't clear what these will be. What I do know is that God will be with me guiding me and prodding (shoving?) me in the right direction.