Hello, I’m Mom, and I have a problem with alcohol. You wouldn’t guess it just by looking at me. I’m a 36-year-old, educated, middle-class woman who attends church regularly—definitely not the stereotype of a stumbling, red-faced drinker you might see in old Westerns. But I’ve come to understand that I may have inherited the alcoholism gene.
My family has a history with alcohol. My father was an alcoholic but managed to quit drinking when I was just a baby. I’ve never felt embarrassed about his struggles; rather, I see it as a genetic issue that made it difficult for him to control his drinking. It seems I share that same challenge.
My relationship with alcohol has always been complicated, akin to a toxic relationship that I couldn’t seem to break free from. For years, I oscillated between periods of drunkenness, temporary breakups, and attempts at moderation, only to end up sick again. It was a relentless cycle.
After each binge, I would set strict rules for myself, convinced that I could manage my consumption. “I’ll only drink on weekends.” “I’ll steer clear of hard liquor.” “I’ll just stick to beer.” But these self-imposed limits never helped because the real issue lay within my brain. When faced with alcohol, my brain would override all those rules and kick into overdrive.
While most people can enjoy a drink and stop, I find that one sip leads to an overwhelming urge for more—like a switch that just doesn’t work properly. It took me a long time to accept that I might be allergic to alcohol because there were moments when I could drink moderately, which gave me a false sense of security. However, I never knew which version of myself would show up at the bar: “Moderate Mom” or “Let’s-Drink-the-Whole-Bottle Mom.”
I wasn’t alcohol-dependent—I didn’t let drinking interfere with my job or relationships, and I’ve never faced any legal troubles. But as the Big Book of AA states, it’s easy to play mind games when justifying your behavior; after all, alcoholism is a progressive disease. What starts as heavy drinking can lead to dependence over time. If you share this struggle, just add “yet” to your justifications.
For example, “I don’t have a drinking problem because… I’ve never been arrested for DUI—yet.” “I’ve never cheated on my partner—yet.” “I’ve never streaked across a football field—yet.” I never hit rock bottom, but I could see it looming ahead. Thankfully, I found the strength to part ways with alcohol before reaching that point.
I won’t sugarcoat it: being sober is challenging. Alcohol is everywhere—at sporting events, brunches, and even children’s birthday parties. When you choose not to drink, people often assume you’re either expecting or judging them, which can feel awkward.
In a world that can be overwhelming, I’ve turned to prayer, meditation, and lots of comfort food to cope. Stress eating has become my new escape.
If you’ve faced similar struggles with alcohol, remember these truths: You are not a loser. You are not a failure. You are not alone. Today might be the day you acknowledge that you, too, have a faulty “off” switch. Be courageous. And if you ever need company, come sit with me at a football game, brunch, or birthday party. We’ll snack together and reassure others that we’re not pregnant.
For more information on related topics, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. You can also explore a comprehensive guide on at-home insemination kits.
Summary
This piece shares a personal journey with alcohol, highlighting the struggles of managing a complicated relationship with drinking. By discussing the genetic predisposition to alcoholism, the challenges of setting boundaries, and the societal pressures surrounding alcohol consumption, the author aims to connect with others facing similar battles. The message ultimately encourages readers to embrace their struggles and find support in community.