Trust me when I say that family and friends are no more shocked and disappointed than we are to discover that we drank – AGAIN – for the umpteenth time. We say we’re done. That we’re going to quit. That we’re never going to touch alcohol again. And we don’t.
Until something happens. Perhaps the oven door slams on someone’s finger. Or a bird craps on their window. Our we can’t find our favorite shoe. Or someone announces a wedding. Or a divorce. Or the birth of a child. Or the death of a fish. There’s always a reason. We don’t have to look far.
The agony we go through to get sober somehow disappears. We forget how awful the morning is after a night of drinking. We can’t remember some really important stuff – like – who did I call? What did I say? Where did I go last night? Who did I see? How did I get there? How much did I spend? That’s not my earring … how’d that get in my coffee pot?
The questions add up and we don’t have the answers, and it’s the worst feeling EVER. Not to mention our hangover is epic enough to lay us out flat and we’re just disgusted with ourselves. The feeling is so enormous it all but caves our chests in.
This insanity – our drinking again because we don’t and can’t remember how painful it is to get sober – is just one of the defining characteristics of an alcoholic.