I wake up this morning to another glorious day. I mention the weather because I’m British and we can count our glorious days on the fingers of one hand, so indulge me. I’m sitting in the garden writing this having reread my post of yesterday which was one of those scary days that happen once in a while.
A day where the manner and amount I drink and eat scare me. I kind of know its going to happen but seem powerless to intervene. For someone who often has to help others I find that baffling, disappointing and frightening. In some respects I can see that the obvious conclusion would be to face my alcohol problem and take steps to give up. The trouble is giving up won’t help me understand why I feel this need to stuff myself with both food and drink to the point of feeling ill and crap with myself. Food is as much of a problem as the drink so I feel the need to examine the process that leads to overindulgence.
I said yesterday that I had invited a friend round for a beer and he couldn’t make it. I wondered if I had felt rejected, cue drinking. The fact is I invited the friend for the main purpose of having drinks together. His not coming round just meant I would just have to do it on my own and whereas with someone there I would not have felt guilty, drinking by myself felt pathetic.
So I wanted a drink and I had plenty available. What I would have liked to happen would have been to have a couple of cans of beer, eat a sensible sandwich, read the paper and then switch to a different activity.I didn’t. I stayed and started on the wine, I prepared more food. I got inebriated. Why?
Partly its that age old thing of I felt I had cracked drinking by myself so almost as a punishment I said,”go on then have another, and another, you waster. You pathetic excuse for a man!” (My self talk can get very vitriolic!). So I cracked and the crack revealed a pustule of self loathing waiting to be burst. Keep it at bay with crisps, gin. Consume enough and it will go away. Except it doesn’t. It sits watching with a wry smile. This is now taking on the shape of an onion.
The first layer is the the feeling of not being able to control my consumption, the next layer is self loathing. Peel that away and I might find where that comes from. Maybe I’ve been peeling away at another onion, my existence,and the layers reveal unhappiness, loss, a lack of identity; I act like there’s nothing to lose because there is nothing to lose. I recognise this as I write and yet it’s not me, or not all of me. Clearly something is not right in the state of Denmark. There is a malaise deep within that I will have to confront.
I could look for reasons in my more recent life; relationship break ups, the death of my son,growing older but they would be excuses. Yes I have self medicated (and been grateful for that)to get me through crises but in truth the over consumption has been there since I started drinking around the age of 16-17.
To get to the core of that onion, my childhood, will necessitate me putting on my honesty glasses. Ive mislaid them.(what a coward). No that will be a post in its own right and I need to prepare myself. For today I have had my healthy breakfast. I will spend some time doing my music. I love doing that and never feel tempted to drink. I will also go on a bike ride. Ride to my girlfriend where I know there will only be one bottle of wine. That sounds like a moderate day and that in itself will make me feel a little bit better about myself- for now.
Thanks for stopping by.