It started innocently enough. I stayed for 6 months on a Greek island. The dad always wanted me to have a glass of wine with lunch and dinner. I was 31. I hate the taste of all alcohol.
When I got home, I got severe panic attacks for the first time in my life. The alcohol really, really helped calm me down.
After that, it just snowballed until one day I said, “I think I have a problem.”
It came out of left field. I e never been a drinker, not even in college!
I live alone and was still “functioning” so I kept drinking. It was my personal, dirty little secret.
I felt less anxious, less scared, less depressed, and more easy going. Happier even.
Meanwhile, there were a few times I lashed out at friends or did something stupid. I’ve also gained 40 pounds. The guilt and shame are always with me.
It’s hard to quit because alcohol is on tv, at grocery stores, gas stations…everywhere. And I’m so impulsive, I’ll leave the house to get some before I’ve even thought it through.
I’ve worked really hard in my life. I don’t want to throw it all away for this addiction. I’m scared I can’t quit. I’ve dug myself into such a deep hole. I’ve been isolating myself. I feel alone. I’m scared.
