Despite the many Emergency Department visits and countless screaming arguments over the years, I never truly believed I had a problem with alcohol. Every time I broke my arm, got a dance inflicted black eye, split my knee open or said unthinkably awful things to my husband, I never saw that the common denominator was alcohol. I didn’t break my arm falling whilst squatting in the bushes because I was pissed and desperate for the toilet… it was an ACCIDENT. Could have happened to anyone! The Eye? Blamed it on the boogie! The knee? That nightclub was waaayyy to dark, anyone could have missed that step!
I truly believed how I drank was normal and acceptable. I guess that part of the problem is that drinking to excess IS a normal and acceptable part of Australian Culture. It took being told over and over again by my husband that I was doing damage to my family for me to stop and months and months of reflection for me to realise that I did have a problem in the first place. It took getting totally sick of being out of control to realise that I no longer had control and that I had to divorce myself from Alcohol.
It’s taken the best part of a year to recognise the stress I placed on my husband every time I drank, not knowing if Bad Amy would be turning up to party. Him left not trusting me to not write myself off when I was away on a trip.
I don’t really know why the denial is real. What I do know is that every time I went out and said to myself I wouldn’t drink too much, I believed that. I truly did. I thought every single time, that this time would be different.
What I have come to realise is that I didn’t have a problem. ALCOHOL was the problem. By it’s very nature it lowers inhibitions and willpower and makes you want more and more. It’s designed to make you loose control, and if you’re fighting with that, you’re fighting a losing battle.
