Expert: Joseph Lee O. - 10/2/2006

Question

Joe,

Thanks for the quick reply. I took a little time to ponder the question you had asked about whether or not I wanted to stop drinking. I agree with the reply you gave your therapist at the time. I do have a desire to stop, but how is the question. Simply wanting something doesn’t make it happen. It is kind of a catch 22, or maybe more of a conundrum. How is it that you can want something so bad, to quit drinking, but can’t imagine life without it? As soon as I think about it I start to look ahead at different events yet to come. How will I deal with parties, company, and the day-to-day stresses where now I can simply pop a beer and the troubles just melt away. I also thought that I would be happy at the idea of quitting, but I don’t know if I am more miserable or terrified at what that means…

I don’t know what to feel right now. I tried the stop drinking for a while thing, and that was a complete disaster. I stayed good for eight weeks or so, and then said “ No problem, I have this under control”. Two days after that I came home with a thirty pack. I did the same thing a couple of times, and no problems stopping for brief periods, but I couldn’t keep it under control when I tried to moderate. I know there is so much more to life. I can taste it. I want to know what it is like to not be angry with people when they cut into my drinking time. To know what it is like to take a walk with my family instead of being frustrated that they are impeding on the time I have allotted myself to “have a few”. After all, I do work, and only have a few hours each day. Why shouldn’t I have that time consumed with finding a way to sneak in a few (sarcasm)? It would be great to not be excited when you find out that the wife and kids are going to the mother-in-law’s for dinner. I get happy because I know she won’t be there to complain when she hears the old familiar “Pop”. She knows she won’t really see me for the rest of the evening when that happens. She tells me that she looks forward to me coming home each day, but I ruin it every time. I will get miserable when I find out that she wants me to just hang out for a while. She knows it, and eventually she will just tell me to go and do whatever it is that I wanted to do. Which always includes drinking…

I frustrate myself as much as I frustrate her. She may be angry, but I am in a hole with just a little twinkle of light at the top. That is what keeps me going. I want to at least see a 60 watt(er), or something.

I guess I am done venting for now. I do feel better. Now, back to the question at hand. How do I do this with both wanting to give it up, and not wanting to give it up?

Regards,
John


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Followup To

Question -
Joe,

You really do a great service being here for people when they don’t know where to turn next. I’m one of them. I have often thought about talking to someone, or even emailing friends in an attempt to open some form of dialogue about my problem, but I stop short each time. I know it is because of the fact that if I say it to someone, I commit to the label that I give myself, “An alcoholic”. Then I have to actually do something about it. That is the hardest thing about all of this.

I don’t do the hard liquor, not hooked on drugs and I haven’t gone broke. I am however on a crash course for the “rock bottom” part that I hear about in every interview that comes up with Alcoholics. Not really enjoying the ride, and I know my wife isn’t either. The only thing I can say is, this really sucks. All I ever wanted to be was a normal person, and this is what I got instead. A family history of alcoholics, and I get lumped in with that mess now too. I know all the signs and symptoms, and I have them. What now? I still have a hard time with committing to this… Why? I’m not a dummy, and I don’t have that bad of a life. I just can’t stay away from the booze. Almost doesn’t seem fair. I have friends that will come over and have one or two beers, and then they stop. Not me. I’ll finish of a good ten or so before I stop. Saying the whole time to my wife that it was just a few, and no, I’m not drunk. Just a little tiny buzz is all. I rarely get drunk, mostly because my tolerance is so high that it is very hard to get there. Somewhere around fifteen beers is when my speech starts to get slurred.


I know what your saying when you mention drinking to get over the guilt of the fact that your drinking. How sick is that? And even after this knowledge, I still have a hard time committing. I rationalize by saying stuff like, “Monday would be a better time to start trying”, “Mid week is better than Monday”, or one of the best “ After my buddy’s party I’ll stop”. I know I will have to follow through with this at some point, and I don’t want it to be with a divorce hanging over my head. Thinking about this also drives me nuts. I don’t know if it is because I start to get down on myself, or if it is just the thought of a beer, but I start to get that craving. Little butterflies in the belly, a flutter in the heart and wham…Right to the liquor store I go. Figuratively speaking. I’m not actually going to the store right now.

Where is the best place to start? I know where I need to be, but am afraid of the actual journey.

Thanks,
John


Answer -
Greetings to you, John, and thank you for your letter.  I will drop almost anything else I might ever be doing in order to try to be helpful to a fellow of mine who still suffers.  Here is a link you might enjoy:
http://www.alladdictionsanonymous.com/index.cfm?Fuseaction=ArticleDisplay&Articl
And, I believe they forgot to mention the judge saying something like, “Either get out of that hole and *stay* out, or you will find yourself locked up!”

Like you, I had often thought of where I might find help, but I had no idea where to turn.  Then a former therapist asked someone to let me know he was sober even though I had never known he ever drank.  Yet with that word “sober” ringing in my head like a dinner bell – my head actually felt like a gong being hammered – I walked into the local police station smoking a joint so they would lock me up so I could sober up and hopefully stay that way for at least long enough to make an appointment to go see that man ... and the judge eventually accommodated me.

After listening quietly while I updated him a bit, that former therapist of mine then calmly asked me, “Joe, do you have a desire to stop drinking?”
“I have to”, I replied.
“That was not my question, Joe.  Do you have a desire to stop drinking?”
“I’ve got to!  I can’t go on this way!”
“I understand, Joe, but that is not what I am asking.  Do you have a desire to stop drinking?”

John, do you have a desire to stop drinking?  That might sound like a silly question when you have already said you “just can’t stay away from the booze”, but that particular admission and a desire to stop drinking are not the same thing.

After Freeman has asked me the third time, I knew I could no longer avoid giving him some kind of answer to his question.  Oh yes, I definitely wanted to stop, but I already knew (without knowing why) I absolutely could not do that, and I was afraid he might next say something ridiculous like, “Well then, my fellow, don’t drink!”

So, my try-to-keep-him-from-saying-that response the third time around was precisely this:

“Yes, I want to, but I can’t.  Why not?”

“Because you are an alcoholic”, he replied.  I later found out that man truly had no idea of what it means to be a real alcoholic, for he eventually sent me off that day with a list of things to do ... topped off with “Don’t drink!”

Here are a couple of excerpts (including a “test”) you might find insightful:

“Many of us felt that we had plenty of character.  There was a tremendous urge to cease forever.  Yet we found it impossible.  This is the baffling feature of alcoholism as we know it - this utter inability to leave it alone, no matter how great the necessity or the wish” (“Alcoholics Anonymous”, the book, page 34).

“As we look back, we feel we had gone on drinking many years beyond the point where we could quit on our will power.  If anyone questions whether he has entered this dangerous area, let him try leaving liquor alone for one year.  If he is a real alcoholic and very far advanced, there is scant chance of success.  In the early days of our drinking we occasionally remained sober for a year or more, becoming serious drinkers again later.  Though you may be able to stop for a considerable period, you may yet be a potential alcoholic.  We think few, to whom this book will appeal, can stay dry anything like a year.  Some will be drunk the day after making their resolutions; most of them within a few weeks” (same page).

You have written, “... if I say [much about my problem] to someone, I commit to the label I give myself, ‘An alcoholic’. Then I have to actually do something about it. That is the hardest thing about all of this.”

“Mutual vulnerability, openly shared” can get people like us past all of that.  For example: I once remarked to someone, “Ignorance was bliss” ... and then he shared some of his own experience to remind me how painful it also was.  Many of us might never meet a great number of others exactly like ourselves, but neither will many other people ever really find true friendship and kinship to help them past their own suffering.

You have written ...

>> All I ever wanted to be was a normal person, and this is what I got instead.

Yes, same here.  By the time I was about six, I already felt so out-of-place and unwanted (even though my parents were both great) that I became convinced I must have been adopted or dropped off at the door or whatever, and I attempted to run away a couple of times ... and such was my life for well over a quarter-century.

>> I know all the signs and symptoms, and I have them. What now?

To recover from chronic (recurring) alcoholism, here is what I had to do:

“If you have decided you want what we have and are willing to go to any length to get it - then you are ready to take certain steps” (“Alcoholics Anonymous”, the book, page 58).

And of course, I would gladly show you how I actually did that.

>> I still have a hard time with committing to this… Why? I’m not a dummy, and I don’t have that bad of a life. I just can’t stay away from the booze.

My suspicion here is that you might be believing you have to commit to “staying away from the booze”, but, and again, no real alcoholic can do that.  And, by the way, today’s AA is full of people who end up drinking over and over and over again even though they have committed themselves to staying away from a drink!  So then, the question here is actually about a commitment to doing what is truly necessary in order to permanently recover from chronic alcoholism.

>> Almost doesn’t seem fair. I have friends that will come over and have one or two beers, and then they stop. Not me ...

Oh yes, I understand.  But, maybe they have hemorrhoids or something else nearly as troubling to them!

>> I rarely get drunk, mostly because my tolerance is so high that it is very hard to get there. Somewhere around fifteen beers is when my speech starts to get slurred.

Yep.  Some of us can handle drinking far better than those “normal” folks – drink them under the table and drive them home – but then some of those same folks do seem to handle the reality of sobriety better than we, would you agree?

>> I know what your saying when you mention drinking to get over the guilt of the fact that your drinking. How sick is that?

Near the end of my drinking, drinking was the only coping mechanism I had.

>> And even after this knowledge, I still have a hard time committing. I rationalize ...

One reality is that we dare not continue drinking, and the other is that we cannot bear the thought of never drinking again.  There is no way to make an alcoholic into a normal drinker, but there is a way for an alcoholic to begin living with reality in sobriety.

>> I know I will have to follow through with this at some point, and I don’t want it to be with a divorce hanging over my head.

Runaway trains can be stopped, but not in time if the necessary action is delayed.

>> Where is the best place to start?

On my own desire to stop drinking, here is where I began:

Step One: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that we could not manage our own lives.

>> I know where I need to be, but am afraid of the actual journey.

With my own experience being identical, here is what “Fred” had to say about that:

"Then they outlined the spiritual answer and program of action which a hundred of them had followed successfully.  Though I had been only a nominal churchman, their proposals were not, intellectually, hard to swallow.  But the program of action, though entirely sensible, was pretty drastic.  It meant I would have to throw several lifelong conceptions out of the window.  That was not easy.  But the moment I made up my mind to go through with the process, I had the curious feeling that my alcoholic condition was relieved, as in fact it proved to be.
"Quite as important was the discovery that spiritual principles would solve all my problems.  I have since been brought into a way of living infinitely more satisfying and, I hope, more useful than the life I lived before.  My old manner of life was by no means a bad one, but I would not exchange its best moments for the worst I have now.  I would not go back to it even if I could."

Please stay in touch either here or by e-mail!

Joe
leejosepho@hotmail.com  

Answer
Greetings again, John.

Sorting all the facts, feelings and what-abouts can be tedious, but a little perspective can help.  Chronic alcoholism always ends in one of three ways: 1) death; 2) permanent insanity (organic brain syndrome or "wet brain", similar to the dementia of syphilis, but without causing death); 3) sobriety as resultant of permanent recovery.  I have no idea what the actual statistics might be, but over the past twenty-five years I have personally witnessed far more death and dementia at the ends of alcoholics' lives than I have seen permanent recovery. And there are, of course, many who spend the remainders of their lives sober in prison after being found guilty of drinking-and-(something).

I do not share the above to try to scare you, of course, but to offer some perspective as you consider our kind of plight.  Alcohol might be a friend for some or for a while, but alcoholism is a relentless and morbid monster.

You have written ...

>> I do have a desire to stop, but how is the question.

Understood ...

"... the question is how to stop altogether.  We are assuming, of course, that the reader desires to stop" (“Alcoholics Anonymous”, the book, page 34).

>> Simply wanting something doesn't make it happen.

... and true!

"... the most powerful desire to stop drinking is of absolutely no avail ...  [we have] lost the power of choice in drink ...  We are without defense against the first drink" (page 24).

>> How is it that you can want something so bad, to quit drinking, but can't imagine life without it?  ... parties, company, and the day-to-day stresses where now I can simply pop a beer and the troubles just melt away.

If you have ever heard the story about the three men and the missing dollar, some misdirected focus is a similar problem here.  Hence, and once again:

Chronic alcoholism always ends in one of three ways: 1) the permanence of death; 2) permanent insanity; 3) permanent recovery.

>> I also thought that I would be happy at the idea of quitting, but I don't know if I am more miserable or terrified at what that means...

Whether misery or terror might seem worse at one time or another is something we could spend hours talking about, but inescapable misery and terror almost always accompany the later stages and end of chronic alcoholism.  So then, the “choice” we face at this particular point along the way is that of whether to face misery and terror while headed toward alcoholic insanity or death or toward recovery.  And of course, permanent recovery sends misery and terror to their own graves.  

>> I know there is so much more to life. I can taste it ... to not be angry with people ...  To know what it is like to take a walk with my family ...

Ah yes, and that is but a beginning!

>> I frustrate myself as much as I frustrate [my wife]. She may be angry, but I am in a hole with just a little twinkle of light at the top. That is what keeps me going. I want to at least see a 60 watt(er), or something.

Just an hour before walking my lit joint into that police station years ago, I was sitting and trying to nurse a beer after “last call” at the bar.  From my perch on a stool at that bar, I could “see” what appeared to be a long and dark chute or tunnel coming through it and up toward me.  Unable to bear the thought of what would be ahead after finally falling into that hole – being knifed in an alley came to mind at that time – I looked up toward the top of the wall behind the bar and noticed a very small but very bright “light” shining through from somewhere “out there”.  Its wattage?  Well, at least 60, I am quite sure!

>> Now, back to the question at hand. How do I do this with both wanting to give it up, and not wanting to give it up?

The old hard-liners who first helped me many years ago had a simple answer for that kind of question: “Keep doing what you are doing until you finally ‘flop’ one way or the other.”  But to possibly be a bit more sensitive here ...

Pain drove me into what turned out to be alcoholism, and pain eventually drove me to find a way out.  But at that point, the idea of “giving it up” had long ago given way to something more like, “How the ‘ell can I get away from it?  What do I have to do?”

Peace to you,

Joe