A Society Truth. Humans beings face an onslaught of societies’ expectations from the day they are born. Being an alcoholic or a drug addict in society adds a whole new layer of complexity to the way we view ourselves and our self-image can be distorted worse than what brought us to the first drink or first addiction. This is fairly common knowledge in all ranges of addiction. Judgments come in a lot of different blended colors as well but across all divisions of society, the stigmas look and feel alike and they all result in shame which can worsen a persons mental state into deeper addictions (eating disorders, sexual disorders, etc…) Alcoholism however seems to take on a fairly demeaning judgment as we continue to develop through society.

Societies pressure and demands on the alcoholic is so skewed because alcohol and drinking is accepted as a part of how we interact on an enormous scale. It is also legal to buy and consume alcohol. This adds pressure to individuals who know they cannot control their drinking but continue to try to so they won’t be chastised by their peers.

Let’s talk briefly about cigarette smoking as an example of addiction and judgment. Cigarettes, like alcohol are legal to buy and consume. We all know that they will definitely cause disease and death. So will alcohol. We also know that people most widely accept that smoking  can be cured with willingness and medical help. If I smoke too many cigarettes, it is highly unlikely that I am going to lose my job, my family, my home and live in my car smoking cigarettes. People might ask me to quit for my health or might be annoyed with my habit but I am not going to be looked at or made to feel too uncomfortable about it. Plus, I am likely not to be smoking much in social circles as it has become mostly respectful to be clear of others who do not smoke in closed areas.

So let’s take this same scenario and apply it to alcohol consumption. I am going to use my experience with my neighbors for this one. My neighborhood is very nice. It is mostly middle class with a sprinkling of heavy hitters; doctors, dentists, state trooper, firefighter, corporate directors, stay at home moms, party planners, etc. The beauty of the mix of people we have is that we all get along really well. We also have found the standard common bond which is BOOZE BABY. See how I got a little excited there? It comes out once in a while.

Anyway, we have some heavy drinkers but I took the cake. I would drink until I passed out. (I had been doing this pattern since my college days; it never changed) Most events would find me drinking to warm up for the event, during, running home to do more “during” and eventually pass out on my couch. What did I say? What did I do? Needless to say, no one questioned my behavior and a drink was at the ready if I walked out my front door and bumped into any one of them. Let’s fast forward to a hypothetical. My husband kicks me out, I lose custody of my son, I lose my job and I am now living in my car. What would those same neighbors say? What if I let my disease continue to own me because I couldn’t handle the pressure of being labeled an alcoholic? If I didn’t seek help, that outcome was staring me in the face.

When we live in a society that doesn’t like the label of an alcoholic, the person who drinks too much at a party might hear the following “wow, you really whooped it up last night” or “do you even remember what you did last night?” The next day, faced with those same people they might be casually passed another beer without much cause or pause that their good friend might have a problem. In fact, in early drinking there are no red flags for the alcoholic because everyone is binge drinking in college.  It is when society demands you be more responsible that it gets complicated for the alcoholic. What once was binge drinking and alcohol abuse, for the now alcoholic the underlying disease has surfaced; control and self-will are no longer an option.

There are subtle differences in the way our families handle our disease as well. If they have no prior experience and/or have had shame as a result of a parent being alcoholic or dying from the disease, they might ignore the signs. In my case, my family ignored my cries for help for a long time. We would skirt around the topic as if I just had incidents that were obviously related to heavy drinking but once a conversation ended on the topic; we moved on. They would continue to turn their heads while I would continue to get worse. I would call my mom drunk every night and she would ignore it or she just didn’t know. I use to think I was fine. Maybe she did too. On some occasions, I couldn’t remember even if I called her. The sad part is, as much as I isolated and drank alone in my home, the safer she probably thought I was.

This was also prevalent in my marriage. My husband tolerated my growing intolerance for a few reasons. One of the reasons was I could manipulate him. Empty promises that I would get “it under control” and we also additionally had added pressure of living in a neighborhood where the love for drinking never ceased. It was perfect for me and a nightmare for him.

So here I am, 44 years old and living in a society where controlled drinking and maturity has kept the majority of my peers well in check with their cultural habit.

How did I navigate quitting and moving forward to 578 days of sobriety?

Early recovery and social navigation

The first year was rough. I am not going to lie. It was tough to see myself in my mirror, let alone worry about what the neighbors might think. What I didn’t see at the time was a bloated, scared, shaky, sweaty mess. I thought I had it together before; but, lately people are saying to me positive things about my attitude and my “glow.” What got me through the birthday parties, the BBQs and the family events was the support of the few people I chose to share that I was in recovery. It helped me manage the micro-steps I needed to take to be a whole person again.

In that first year, I had to be very careful of my moods. If I felt uncomfortable at an event or needed to rest, I wouldn’t participate.  One example is when the local elementary school PTO had a “wine tasting night” for parents to raise money for the school. This was not something I could participate in. It was also across the street from my home. The after party from what I understand was “epic.” Even though I felt a bit sad inside for not being part of it, my sobriety had to be number ONE. The challenges of being pressured to participate have now shifted into what I want to be in MY life, not what I want to lead people to believe I am.

The sad part is there are still people in my life who don’t allow themselves to get close to me. I have made what I believe to be better friendship amongst my peers that are not in my sober circle but I can see and feel in their eyes that they might “catch it” if they get too close. Sometimes when wine or beer is being poured, they “make sure” there is nonalcoholic beer available for me now. It is very sweet and I love that they do it but sometimes I cannot enjoy it because it reminds me of a time when my first love was alcohol. Their intentions are good; again it is the “fit in” culture.

When I started to turn the corner of a year sober, I started to meet more and more people in my normal life who share my same desire to be sober. When I look back at the person I was in my head it is cleat that is not the person that I want to be today. That person was barely making it to 9:00pm at night socially, wasn’t contributing to a conversation and would be running home to sneak a drink or finding some time to drink alone. I craved my alone time as much as I craved the alcohol. Eventually, I wouldn’t be socially aware at all if I continued to be that person.

When people ask me about why I don’t drink, I pick and choose how I share. I know it will be revealed as it is meant to be at the right times and moments. For example, I wouldn’t tell an employee at this moment in time that I am an alcoholic. I might say something to the effect of “I have chosen to treat my body with respect and alcohol in my body is not part of that.” I won’t lie and tell them I am on a diet. Someone said to me the other day, “you still on the wagon, huh.” He is an ex-employee of mine and I could easily tell him without stigma rearing its head, but doing that over a text isn’t appropriate either.

I think being open about sobriety is important as it can save lives but as sensitive and anxiety prone person, I have to pick and choose who I share my recovery with today. As my life continues to unravel its story, it is with a grateful heart and guiding spirit that I am able to see the stigma for what it is in others. For some it is their own fear. For others it is judgment. Either way, I can stand on my own and decide who will be there when I need them and who will not. This is where choosing our friendships become critical to staying sober. Once our guard is down and the doubts manifest we begin to crumble under the weight of our own insecurities. This can lead us to a peer-based decision that might someday kill us.

In conclusion, if anyone ever says to you “what you can’t control your drinking?”  Tell them whatever choice words you have but never, ever, give up on caring for yourself and taking care of your spirit.