The following is an excerpt from my memoir Saturation.
I was rarely predictable. My moods fluctuated depending on several factors: they fluctuated depending on the amount of alcohol I’d already consumed, the amount of alcohol within my reach, and the amount of alcohol that I knew I needed to buy. These were all of utmost relevance.
My life revolved around alcohol. On a daily basis I was either drunk, rude, entitled, cheerful, gregarious, hungover, depressed, curious, angry, destructive or enigmatic. Sometimes I managed to pull of several opposing emotions simultaneously, confusing others and myself. Not once did Dick break up with me.
I never broke up with him either and within about five months of our first date, I moved in with him. I started drinking more and I started drinking his expensive vodka. Occasionally, I’d taunt him. “You know you’ve never seen me sober. I haven’t been sober for two minutes around you since the day we met. You know you can’t possibly love me. How could you when you don’t even know who I am? You have no idea. Have you ever even bothered to ask yourself just what the fuck you think you’re doing with me?”
That state of denial that many alcoholics move through has never been part of my path. Not only have I always known I was an alcoholic, I rubbed it in people’s faces. Taunting them and nearly insulting them with it. I’m not sure how that was possible, but somehow I managed.