I'm sure everyone grows up with some sort of trait of their parents' that they fear to inherit. Maybe you grew up with a mom with a bad temper or a lazy dad and you swore to yourself you would never, EVER become that. Maybe you fear getting fat, not being successful, or developing a drug problem.
As for me, I fear alcoholism.
Just to clarify, I do not have a problem with alcohol. I occasionally imbibe a couple of glasses of wine or a beer. Sometimes socially, sometimes just to wind down in the evening. Most people consume alcohol in this way.
I was a pretty typical college student, participating in "Thirsty Thursdays" and Frat parties. I have had my share of hangovers and honestly I don't think I will ever be able to even look at a bottle of Tequila again. But I would never have classified my behavior as an alcohol problem. Just typical stupid college kid stuff.
While most people will go through their whole lives without developing any sort of drinking problem, there are those who aren't so lucky. The occasional social drink becomes a series of regular social drinks which develops into lots of drinking by yourself. Next thing you know, you've lost your job, your family and have drank the last of your money. And as much as you might hate the booze for what it's done to you, you can't stop.
For some people the alcohol itself loses the appeal and the effectiveness while the addiction for that disembodied, carefree feeling grows. Those people turn to harder chemicals to lose themselves. They find cocaine, heroine and meth.
Alcoholism is a seriously misunderstood disease. And it is a disease. I have experienced the devastation and destruction that the disease can wreak. The loss and the heartbreak. The anger and resentment. All still very familiar.
My stepdad when I was little was an alcoholic. He didn't start off that way. When Richard and my mom married, I was young. Honestly, he's the only "dad" figure that I remember. The only person I remember ever calling "Dad." I remember him being very John Wayne back then. Tall and skinny. Always in a hat and Levis. We built a barn and he taught me everything I know about riding horses. As time went by the drinking got worse. From social drinker to functional drunk to completely dysfunctional drunk.
When I was in middle school, I remember him becoming physically violent and psychologically abusive. He went from a jovial, easy-going guy to a mean drunk real quick. For whatever reason I remembered my brother getting on his bad side more often than me. My mom and Richard separated when I was in high school and my final contact with Richard was the day I found out he had sold my horse without my permission. Probably so he could have some beer and drug money.
Alcoholism has been found to have both genetic factors and environmental. Whereas I don't have to worry about the genetic factors from a stepfather, I have a healthy dose of alcohol in my genes already. In fact I have moonshiner blood running in my veins.
Maybe in my case at least the environmental influence has been to steer me away from any addictive tendencies. I feel like I'm always hyper aware of my reasons for wanting a glass of wine or a beer. I'm overly sensitive about people being three sheets to the wind around me. And of course I don't want my kids exposed to that sort of behavior. Social drinkers, even those who drink a lot on a regular basis, are not the same as alcoholics. I have seen plenty of both and most definitely know the difference.
What I wonder about the most is what is it that turns someone from a social drinker into a drunk? From a martini at happy hour to a fifth for breakfast? What finally flips that switch? While I watched someone go through that downward spiral personally, I was just a kid. So I certainly wasn't privy to any of the personal reasons. It seems like an awfully personal sort of question to ask someone anyways.
Some alcoholics recover. They get their proverbial shit together and they move on. Move forwards. I know some. You'd never guess that they had at one time suffered from a drinking problem. Many don't. While I never spoke to Richard again, I guess he never fully got his ducks in a line. He committed suicide this year. It bothered me a lot more than I would have ever thought. Especially having spent a fair amount of teenage angst wishing he was dead.
My worry is certainly not all consuming. Beer has too many calories for me and makes me burpy. Too much wine gives me a headache. And liquor in much quantity makes me puke. So I don't really see myself become a total lush anytime soon. In the meantime, I will continue to savor my glass of Riesling after the girls are in bed.
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