"I don't have a drinking problem."
This is what she tells herself, mainly because she hardly goes out to drink socially, and she doesn't drink anything other than wine, not to be fancy, but just because every other type of alcohol causes cystic breakouts. She also has tricked herself into thinking it's not a problem because she can joke about "winding down with her glass of wine" with her friends. She's a good girl; not a party girl.
But the problem is just those things. When it became normal, it got out of control. A half a glass every couple of days in the late evening turned into three glasses right after dinner every day. The enthusiasm for good wine turned into indifference for any type of cheap wine that was over 11% alcohol content. A nice buzz turned into memory blocking numbness. Instead of feeling normal and hang over free the next morning, she was waking up with pounding headaches and the need for plain bagels and ginger ale. And it went unnoticed because it started out as "normal."
But as she sits, slumped over on the bathroom floor in the early hours of a Wednesday morning, she finally starts to suspect that perhaps she may need to lay off the wine for a few weeks. Maybe find another way to deal with stress. Because what started as an innocent hobby turned into a destructive routine.
Maybe I do have a drinking problem.
Labels: alcohol, alcoholic, bad habits, drinking, wine