I Got it From My Mumma

Full disclosure this heading is in reference to the song lyric and applied as an innuendo that Alcoholism is hereditary.

That being said, I cannot confirm or deny this claim as both my parents are drinkers born from drinkers so there is no comparison in my bloodline.

It is true that I was brought up in a household were alcohol plays a daily part. I shared my lunch and dinner table and sometimes even my breakfast table with the ever warm company of the booze bottle.

In my family we drink to celebrate, we drink to grieve. We drink because we are happy, we drink when we are sad, we drink for no particular reason except that the beautiful summer sun is out or the cool evening fire becons.

We like to have ‘A bloody good time’. Our family and friends know us for it, and we glow in this image.

Growing up in this atmosphere means that developing a problem or an unhealthy relationship with alcohol goes completely under the radar.

This is because, well frankly the whole thing is a problem but no one can see it. When all parties concerned are under the same illusion then how can there be a problem?

I have felt for many years that my alcoholism was a problem for me. I was a heavy drinker from a young age and it brought out the worst in me. Though slipping unnoticed by my boozy family, them labelling me fondly, a little party animal, I soon realised my problem in the outside world by the social group and the predicaments I found myself to be in.

The time I lost my drivers licence for blowing a high range reading of my blood alcohol level (for the 2nd time). I knew something had to be done. I took a hiatus from alcohol and sort professional help.

This however was not met well with my family…

“Why dont you just have a few drinks instead of too many?’

“Why dont you just pace yourself, you don’t need to quit drinking?”

“Gorn just have a few its (whatever) occasion!”

These most unsupportive remarks made it extremely difficult to cold turkey my addiction however I am pleased to report I made 6 months! Before the ever bittersweet relapse.

I understand now, in that marvolous hindsight that the reason my family could not support me is because it exposed them.

If i wasn’t being The Queen of all Trash then who would drink with them? Who would enable them?

The difference from me to them is that I am not happy, alcohol makes me angry, depressed, and a general asshole. I have my heels dug firmly in the never ending cycle of depression then drinking or drinking then depression, the chicken or the egg? They go hand in hand. And it seems I am either the only one being honest about this struggle or the only one in my family struggling with it.

This has meant for me that since quitting for good, I have had to isolate myself from them, not fully as I love my family and that would be horrible but I have maintained a social distance, I also have not told them that I have quit alcohol. This way I do not have to field any well meaning unhelpful remarks.

Although it is absolutely shithouse that I have decided to take this step without them, it is the less stressful option for me. And I am ok with that.

Removing alcohol from my life is also removing that whole drinking scene from my life. It is the choice I have made and by George I am going to stick to it.

I have the support of my fiance, and once I am a boss at the sober life I will join my mad family gatherings once again and perhaps a little inspiration to others may be shared.

Until then I have you, my infinite world wide web xxx

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