#sixbillionsecrets

Oh, drinking.  I could probably go on for hours about this subject but I'll spare you that.  I think the funny thing about drinking is that people don't realize just how much of a problem it can be - and just how present it is in our lives.  The media beautifies drinking - which sounds weird but it does.  Yeah, yeah, we can get a laugh at watching our favorite character suffer from a hangover.  For the most part, we get to witness two characters start drinking at some wild and huge party.  They share a look from across the room.  She smiles shyly and turns away - he takes a huge gulp (for courage) and makes his way towards her.  The two immediately hit it off and eventually fall into bed for amazing, drunken sex. 

Seriously - how many times has this scenario played out on shows/movies?  Like I said, drinking is all around us and a lot of times, it's not taken seriously.  The consequences aren't shown.  And I get that shows are meant for entertainment but it's startling how much "silent" influence they can have.  

There's a difference between socially drinking and then drinking.  There's also a difference between wanting to drink and needing to drink.   

If you can hang out with friends and have a few beers then fall asleep and wake in the morning not desiring another beer, you probably don't have a drinking problem.  If you don't think about alcohol constantly, then you probably don't have a drinking problem.  If you can decline a drink and not feel a pull in your gut, you probably don't have a drinking problem. 

Now, I'm not a doctor nor a psychologist.  I can't tell you everything there is to know about alcoholism.  But I can give you experiences.  Including my own.  Unlike the poster of this secret, I didn't feel like I had a drinking problem - I did have one.  Now, I was ironically lucky that I didn't have the means (car, money, etc) to fall into full blown alcoholism but the drinking problem itself was pretty damn awful. 

So I can say from experience that if you feel like you have a drinking problem, you need to take a deep breath, find some courage, and tell someone.   Because the temptation and addiction that alcohol brings is entirely unpleasant.  

If anyone has tried to quit drinking coffee or quit smoking, then they'll know what it's like to be addicted to something.  You'll tap your fingers, get frustrated, get agitated, short-tempered.  Impatient.  Anxious.  Your body wants that feeling again and the cravings are almost overwhelming sometimes.  You think about it a lot. 

Craving alcohol is a little different.  Like nicotine or caffeine, the desire to drink is always present.  It can be intensified by the slightest of details - say, for example, if you drink water out of a cup you've drank alcohol from.  Or if someone brings up a party that you drank at.  All those commercials on television.  Those ads on the internet.  Those scenes in the movies.  The feeling swells up in the back of your throat and pit of your stomach - you want to scream.  It's as if your entire body is clenching into a fist.  You want it to stop - and you know how you could do that. 

By drinking, of course.  

And then suddenly you want to scream louder because you know you can't do that.  It's as if you're denying your body water after you've been lying in a dry desert.  These feelings of addiction are when you realize that you not only want alcohol but you NEED it.  

When I wasn't resisting these temptations/cravings, then I wasn't in control of my body.  That's the only way I can describe it.  It was as if I would go on autopilot for a few minutes.  I could mix a drink in a matter of seconds or "turn off" my taste buds when I made the drink too strong, just to get it down.  I would wake up completely hungover at 10 in the morning, roll out of bed, and enjoy a breakfast of two, heavy beers.  I didn't even realize what I was doing - but I did realize it when I WASN'T on autopilot.  Because it felt wrong.  

These temptations and cravings DO NOT go away quickly.  They linger.  Sometimes they trick you by disappearing for a day then suddenly slamming into you when someone offers you something to drink.  

If you feel like you have a drinking problem, the first thing I recommend doing is to, well, stop drinking.  Which is a lot harder than it sounds.  But it's important.  Cut out the parts of your life that include alcohol.  Which, again, is a lot harder than it sounds.  But this is probably even more important.  Your health matters and any sort of drinking problem is going to compromise that.  

Then be honest with yourself.  Going a month without drinking is probably not going to make your drinking problem go away.  You may feel stronger and feel like you can battle the intense desire to be intoxicated but my guess is that you'd be wrong.  I haven't been drunk in what feels like years (wanting alcohol can make your sober self feel very, very old) and even now, one glass of wine can bring back those cravings.  If I have wine even twice in one week - hell, two weeks - then as I'm taking a sip, I'm already thinking about when I'll be able to pour another glass.  When is my next chance - when do I get to feel wonderful again? 

And that's really fucking unhealthy.  I had to be honest with myself and admit that if I want to be at my best, then I should probably stick with that one glass of wine.  I'm at a point in my life where I'm comfortable and strong enough to handle those cravings.  But when I give into more, the game gets harder.  So be honest with yourself when it comes to what you can handle.  If having one glass of wine will consume your thoughts with alcohol for the next month, you're probably not ready for that.  If you feel as though you can never have a sip again, then admit that to yourself - it's okay.  

After taking these steps, gather up your courage and tell someone.  Because someone needs to know.  Even if you start with a close friend.  These are the people who can help keep you on track because they want to see you happy and healthy.  These people should NOT be your caretakers.  For example, they shouldn't keep track of how many drinks you have at a party - you need to try and do that yourself.  But they can talk with you when you make mistakes/relapse.  They can help you figure out ways to deal with the temptations and they can even help you avoid situations where alcohol may be presented.  

But the important thing is to let someone know.  You don't have to go through the addiction alone - that can make it a lot harder to beat.  And people will want to help you, too.  

There are also a lot of resources out there if you want to keep your problems close to your chest.  Online support groups, therapy, A.A. - lots of resources.  Take advantage of them and if you think there's none offered around you, look again.  Sometimes there are doors waiting to be opened right around the corner - we just haven't looked toward that corner.  

Taking on a drinking problem by yourself can be incredibly difficult and it can last years upon years.  For some, they can do this - they can handle it alone but for most of us, we need at least one person to lend us their shoulder now and then.  To listen to us.  So don't be afraid to ask for help. 

It's a lot scarier when you don't. 

I've given you a small taste of my own experiences with alcohol but here's a nice collection of other people's testimonies.  Read through them - you may find someone in a similar situation such as yours.  

This is an incredibly common phenomenon.  In fact, I have experience with this, too.  I was always the person people would go to for advice or to talk with and during that time, I was suffering.  A lot.  All I wanted was for someone to ask me what was wrong or if I was okay.  I wanted hugs.  I wanted a pat on the back.  I wanted to be consoled.  But instead, I was the girl who would give smiles and offer everything - while getting very little in return.  It made me horribly sad and the isolation I already felt only intensified.  

Having worked on my mentality, my health, and my general outlook on everything, remembering how this used to feel makes me feel...silly.  

That's probably weird to say and I certainly am not saying it to lessen or disregard anyone's current feelings.  But silly is a pretty good word for it.  Not because of how awful my feelings were - no, that's not silly.  Those feelings still make my chest hurt when I think about them - my experiences were real and they'll be a part of me for a long time. 

I feel silly because I assumed so much - and I've learned over time that life can be a lot simpler if you stop assuming things.  

Back then, when I was all smiles (even fake ones) and comfort for those who needed them, I wanted consoling in return.  What I didn't realize is that no one knew how I was feeling.  Or rather, I understood that I was keeping my feelings a secret but I was assuming that someone would look at me and know that I was hurting.  They'd see the sadness behind my eyes or the twist of my lips that wasn't quite real.  

But the truth of the matter is that you can't expect people to see/know these things.  Not that some people won't realize how you're feeling - there are some people who are incredibly good at reading body language and subtle hints.  They'll probably be the ones to surprise you by spontaneously asking if you're okay.  But in general, people don't do that. 

And that's okay.  Because the only person who knows what's going on in your head is you - and the only person who knows what's going on in their head is them.  I used to walk around waiting for someone to ask me what was wrong with me.  I would sigh softly, let my smiles fade - I knew I was doing these things, too.  I was silently begging someone to acknowledge my pain.  I was assuming that someone would notice.  After all, I was pretty good at noticing how others were feeling - surely someone would notice me. 

They didn't.  Not really.  Eventually, I broke down and vented to a few friends and some admitted that they noticed something was "slightly off" but they figured it was just their imaginations or that they were perceiving my actions wrong.  

They had no idea how I was feeling.  As much as I hate to admit this, I will.  

I resented them.  I blamed them.  It made me angry. 

Looking back, this is silly.  Because how in the world would they know what was going on unless I talked to them?  I was making life difficult and more painful by trying to subtly get people to notice me when my friends were ready to console me when I told them what was going on.  They would give me hugs then, ask me if I was alright that day - all because I had told them and now they knew.  They had facts.  Not suspicions.  Not guesses.  When I sat them down and told them, they could then figure out what I needed - or better yet, I could tell them what I needed (for example: sitting quietly or getting a hug now and then).  

I'm not trying to say that people are stupid and you shouldn't assume that they'll figure things out.  No, not at all.  What I'm trying to say is that you can't assume that people know everything about what's going on inside your head.  And if they don't, you can't blame them for that - it's not their fault that they can't read your mind.  If you want to be consoled or get help from a friend, you have to tell them.  Tell them what's going on.  What you need.  What you want.  The more information you give them, the better they can help you. 

But if you just assume that they'll "see the sadness behind your eyes," then more than likely, you'll feel continuously isolated.  

ESPECIALLY if you continue to put up fake smiles and laugh like you're the happiest person in the world.  How can you expect people to know that you're hurting when you're putting out the appearance of pure joy?  Again, you can't assume that people will be able to lift up that layer and see how sad you are.  

Life would be easier if we were like The Sims.  You know, that computer game where you control little people.  Whenever something is bothering them, the green icon above their heads turns red.  Sure, you can still make the Sim do happy stuff - dance, laugh at jokes, etc - but the icon will remain red.  If real life were like that, then people would be able to see that you're unhappy despite the smiles and laughter you present.  

But unfortunately for us, EA hasn't figured out how to implement properties of their game into the real world.  

So you can't assume that people are going to see that red icon.  If you're presenting a happy green one, then that's what they're going to see.  

And if you want them to see differently, then make it so.  Talk to someone.  Take a deep breath and speak.