Being a sober alcoholic in New York City is something like being in a foreign country where everyone loves a sport you can’t even play. Or being a diabetic in a sugar factory. Or being lactose intolerant on a dairy farm.
I totally had forewarning that it was going to get out of hand – I have a family history of alcoholics and addicts who’d either died of the disease or gotten themselves sober in an act of self-preservation. But I was excited by drinking. It made things easier, parties bearable, me more comfortable.
Blackouts*, vomiting, embarrassing public behavior, drinking until I passed out, and hangovers that would have put most people off the sauce for a month barely made me pause until the next week. I’d promise to stop, but 10 minutes into watching all my friends drink I’d decide to have “just one” and halfway through the horrible blended whateveritwas, something would click in my head. I’d think Just screw it, and I was gone.
A sexual assault during a blackout in the fall of 2006 and a diagnosis of mono made me vow to quit for a whole year “and then I’ll be the kind of person who drank only in restaurants.” My doctor ordered me to abstain from drinking or risk my liver shutting down. The assault led me to seek counseling, which led me to an alcohol treatment specialist, who eventually, slowly, painstakingly, led me to sobriety and the community that has helped me stay here.
The assault itself and the next three months it took me to really hit bottom and admit that my drinking was out of control are a post unto themselves, so to cut straight to it: My first sober day was February 5, 2007. I was 21. That morning I pulled myself off the bathroom floor, looked in the mirror and said “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
It wasn’t easy – I stopped seeing my hard-drinking friends, avoided the wine and beer aisles in the grocery store and hung out with young sober people in my little college town. Some days I was quiet and withdrawn, others I was angry and frustrated. I would take long drives in the country, then be reduced to tears by “La Boheme” on the radio, and by evening I’d be so restless I’d go to the drug store for a coloring book and crayons. I couldn’t sleep, and when I did I had nightmares. My roommate slept on the floor of my bedroom once or twice, and when she was out of town I called 24 hour hotlines to ask questions about whether I was “allowed” to consider what happened to me sexual assault, and would I ever have sex again without hating every part of it? (Yes, and hell yes)
Gradually, as I got involved with the local sober community and followed their suggestions, my head got quieter. Decisions got easier. I got farther from a drink and started to develop a sense of humor about my disease. When I had to leave that town and move home after graduation, I cried not for the four years of college life I’d spent there, but for the four months of sober time.
Living in New York can be tricky – on the one hand, there are tons of sober young people, sober dances, and diners. On the other hand, there are work functions with champagne, marinades made with wine and a bar culture you can’t escape. I love baseball games like I love hot chocolate, but I’ve had to leave early more than once when the fans around me were too drunk or the stench of spilled beer was too much.
I spend most of my first dates on eggshells because I always feel like if I come off the slightest bit judgy or prim about alcohol, I’m dunzo. So I tend say something light like “Oh, I used up all my drink tickets so now I just drink soda.” How a guy takes that bit of news tells me a lot about him, and through trial and error I’ve learned I’m never going to be able to date someone who drinks super heavily; I once woke up with a hangover from kissing someone with liquor on their breath (for anybody who watched this season of “Mad Men”: when alcoholic Duck said to Peggy that he could taste the booze on her breath, I shuddered).
I moved to Brooklyn last June to live with a good friend and her other roommate, who freaked the eff out when I told her I was in recovery and would appreciate some notice about parties, a non-excessive amount of booze in the fridge, etc. To her ears, “recovering alcoholic” conjured up visions of a heroin-shooting junkie passed out in the living room floor. We never quite got along, astonishingly, and when I eventually discovered she’d been blogging entries like “my roommate wants her unemployed alcoholic friend to live with us!!” …..it was unpleasant.
I came away from that experience seriously burnt – basically my policy now is Don’t Tell, Deflect With a Joke. I’d never experienced the negative stigma associated with being an alcoholic until then – most people in my life have been encouraging of my sobriety and told me they were proud of me (except for the occasional skeevy guy who heard “Yeah, I used to drink but I don’t anymore” and immediately went to “So were you, like, a Girl Gone Wild or something?” Yes, yes I was, and I’ve almost managed to kick the habit of flashing my boobs to strangers – wanna see? (/sarcasm).
When I first moved to New York, some neighborhoods felt familiar but I couldn’t really remember being there except in a hazy, confused way. Then eventually I’d figure out that I’d stumbled down those subway stairs on my way to get sick in that trash can, or wiped out stepping off that curb. Ah memories. Most of the time it was like going back to the ballroom the morning after the prom and realizing that what you thought was a shimmering wonderland of lights and noise and joie de vivre was an ordinary place, with cracks in the sidewalk and sticky stains on the counter and dirty bathroom stalls in the back.
One particular bar on the Upper West Side was where part of my sexual assault occurred (the rest of it was in a friend’s apartment up the street). I must have walked by the bar a dozen times in the past two years but a few weeks ago I was walking up Broadway when my chest seized up and my throat closed and my heart pounded as I experienced a flood of incoherent memories and physical sensations that made me want to throw up. The bar wasn’t even there anymore, but something about the street that day triggered a PTSD response I haven’t felt before or since. It sucked.
I was on my way to a rehearsal, so I didn’t have time to fall apart. Instead, I took a walk around the block, breathed in the sunset over the Hudson, had a quick conversation with the universe that looks after me, and the moment passed.
Slowly but surely, I’ve grown into the person I was supposed to be before I derailed into three years of choosing an easier, less challenging, less-likely-to-interfere-with-my-drinking path. This summer I will have been sober as long as I was drinking. That kind of symmetry almost makes it feel like it never happened, like I have a clean slate (except for the crazybrain interludes that remind me to stay connected to other sober alcoholics).
I’m grateful for the chance to get sober so early in my life – some “veteran drinkers” teased me at first, but I’ve never met anyone who knew they had a problem in their twenties and was glad they kept drinking into their forties. I’m grateful for all the strong sober women who reached out to me when I was raw, tender and scared. And I’m grateful for the online world of independent, awesomesauce women and feminist allies, including the Harpies and their readership – the internet would be a lesser place without you.
If you’re curious about drinking and women, AA and its alternatives or signs of alcohol abuse, I recommend:
Drinking, a Love Story by Caroline Knapp
Happy Hours: Alcohol in a Woman’s Life by Devon Jersild
And there’s lots of helpful info here.
*PSA: Blackouts are different than passing out; when you pass out, you appear to be asleep but your body isn’t actually getting rest. People in a blackout usually appear drunk but are moving around and speaking – their brain simply isn’t forming any new memories. For me it was like walking around under a strobe light where I lost time when it went dark, anywhere from a minute to several hours.
I didn’t drink until senior year in college because I turned 21 late and multiple family members are allergic to alcohol–I didn’t want my parents to find out I had been drinking underage THAT way, and my parents were pretty strict. Turns out I’m not, but I learned a lot about how drunk people reeeeeaaaally don’t want anyone else around to be sober. Also, I had a recovering alcoholic friend in college, and I have one now that I’ve known for a few years, so I can’t imagine putting someone on the spot like that. It’s bad enough when people try to insist that I have a beer when I am allergic to hops. People suck.
On the plus side, as you get in to your late 20s, people who don’t know you well will either just assume you are driving or pregnant. Your friends will already know and leave you alone.
Congratulations on your sobriety, MKP. That’s huge. I have a rich and detailed history of alcoholism on both sides of my family, and though I’ve never exhibited any of the classic “signs”, I do socialize more at bars than anywhere else. So about once a year I’ll give up drinking anything alcoholic for anywhere from 1-6 months. Just to, I dunno, see if it’s a huge challenge? In my head if I really resent that, then I’ve got a problem. But then sometimes I wonder if the fact that I feel like I need to even test myself means that I have a problem. But then I remember that I’m generally paranoid and a hypochondriac, so maybe it doesn’t? And round and round I go. @DM – Yes! Why do people feel the need to make everyone around them drink if they’re drinking? At first I assumed it was general college-aged asshole behavior, but then I stopped taking shots in my early 20s (just a bad idea generally, for me), and as soon as someone hears that it’s, “Oh come on!!! I’ll buy!” even if it’s 2 in the afternoon and a Monday.
On another note, I’m really really digging these glimpses into fellow Harpies’ lives. Thank you guys for sharing so much, MKP and Ocean-breeze!
Congrats on your sobriety. I’ve never been a drinker and have found the same as yvane and DM – people who drink are reeeeally uncomfortable with someone there being sober. Not everyone, but some people. Personally, I’ve never found it a temptation, but I can’t imagine how hard that sort of wheedling must be to someone who’s recovering/recovered. You also communicated really well how pervasive alcohol is. I never even considered wine sauces as a problem for recovering alcoholics, and you’ve made me reconsider how silly I think PA’s laws against selling alcohol in grocery stores is.
My boyfriend and I have a friend who’s very, very alcoholic. Do you have any suggestions on how to help get someone into treatment?
Just saying amen to everyone’s observation that people who drink seem to feel the need to make everyone around them drink. I was never a big drinker and quit drinking several years ago by choice (my choice was partly influenced by watching a beloved relative struggle horribly with alcoholism). Since then I’ve been amazed by how many people give me the side-eye for sticking to soda, or outright pressure me to drink. Kudos to MKP for being able to work around that pitfall and do it with humor.
And big kudos to MKP in general for this piece–which is thoughtful and funny and kick-ass on so many levels.
Thank you very much for sharing your story. And congraulations on your sobriety. I can only imagine how hard that would be.
Just a small reply to yvanehtnioj…
So about once a year I’ll give up drinking anything alcoholic for anywhere from 1-6 months. Just to, I dunno, see if it’s a huge challenge?
I can tell you not drinking for me is not a great challenge, but having just one? Huge challenge. If I decide to drink, shit is going down. It doesn’t matter if I go into it thinking “oh, just one or two and then I’ll stop.” It usually ends in a blackout and waking up the next morning hoping I didn’t do anything to embarrassing or drunk-dial someone.
I used to do that, think, I’ll not drink for a year, then I’ll know I have control over it. But maybe the first or maybe even second time I would drink, I might stop with a buzz, but after that…
I’ve found that for me, alcohol is an all-or-nothing proposition and the “enjoyment” I may get for a short while from drinking does not make up for the hangovers, embarrassment and apologies I have to make to my liver.
I’m not saying you have this problem, just that in my case, I am very good at not drinking and great at drinking. Just awful at drinking in moderation, and at 37, I’ve finally come to the conclusion that I’ll either be sober or a blackout drunk. I’ve decided on sober. Now, pot, well….
Thank you for this post. I’ve been struggling with debilitating migraines for the past couple of months and haven’t been drinking for that reason. I have been shocked at how difficult it has been to navigate around this. People just do not know how to deal with someone who doesn’t drink. I know this is *nowhere* near the same as being a sober alcoholic but it gives me a little taste as to what it must be like. Thank you for sharing your story.
Congrats on your sobriety. Just wanted to weigh in as a drinker without a lot of experience with alcoholics, I have recently been staying with my in laws and my MIL is a (very functional) alcoholic and all of the sudden I have stopped drinking around her. I just can’t bear the thought of enabling her in any way or making her feel that what she is doing is fun or social. I’m not trying to punish her or whatever, it’s just that her drinking is so unfun that I don’t want to participate. It’s definitely a new experience for me. Thanks for the insight.
Thanks everyone! I’m really grateful for the opportunity to put my story out there, and for the positive feedback!
@Baraquiel – in my experience, it is impossible to make someone seek recovery before they’re ready. You can be upfront about voicing your concerns (“It seems like you’re drinking to get drunk, and often, and that worries me), and refuse to be around that person when they’re drinking. Then if they demonstrate some willingness to hear you, you could offer to accompany them to an open meeting. If it’s someone you’re really close to, Al-Anon is a program for families of alcoholics and they can help you come up with strategies to manage your responses to that person (since you’ll never be able to force change on them). It’s hard, but chances are they know the truth about their drinking and don’t want to deal with it.
Wow, it sucks to hear how often nondrinkers are pressured/shamed by drinkers. People can be such assholes. As someone who enjoys alcohol but has never (that I can recall) put pressure on someone who doesn’t drink, this makes me want to redouble my efforts to be a better ally. Though it’s rare that I’m in situations these days where that comes up. When we (rarely) go to bars, it is with the same group of friends, and everyone knows everyone’s personal preference re. alcohol (whether they drink or not) so it’s a nonissue. Or hanging out at someone’s house. But, say, at occasional work functions, I probably have been oblivious to this kind of thing. So thanks for a good reminder.
And thanks for sharing your story, MKP!
Thanks for sharing MKP and congrats on sobriety. I don’t have a family history of alcoholism but the BF does, his dad is a low functioning alcoholic who doesn’t admit to a problem. It’s been a real eye opener being around him. It also makes me more nervous about BF who does like to drink, although I’ve seen him actually get drunk on very few occasions. Last fathers day I suggested to BF and family that perhaps we make it a dry bbq (his dad was on probation and was being tested and couldn’t drink) and I was surprised how people got pissy about that. Not BF but his sisters GF in particular.
@ShinyObjects – I may have told these stories here before, but I have had people get down on their knees and beg me to drink. No joke. And this alcoholic friend I mentioned once spent about 15 minutes telling me how he wanted me to drink because drinking made him so happy, and he felt like he had to proselytize about it “like Evangelical Christians do with God”. That one was funny while it was happening but, upon reflection, is just really sad.
@baraqiel: That is sad. That’s classic addict behavior. It means “I’m desperate, and I need you to participate in/enable in my desperation so I can pretend like I don’t have a problem.”
Thanks for sharing your story, MKP, and good for you for maintaining your sobriety. I have also been in the boat of not drinking for various health or financial reasons and getting pressure from friends to drink. During a sober moment I made it clear that I will walk out of the bar or restaurant and go home if they ever do that to me again, and it hasn’t been a problem since. If you’re not a drinker, set boundaries for yourself and enforce them. You shouldn’t have to suffer in order to make someone else feel better about his or her own drinking.
I am sadly glad to hear the pressure I feel to drink is not a singular occurrence. I really thought it was just my annoying friends and family who did it. I don’t drink, and aside from two years in college, never really did. It amazes me that ADULTS use the same language teens used in high school to try to get me to drink. If it didn’t work then, it’s not going to work now, and no, not ALL the cool kids are doing it.
I echo everyone else, MKP, in congratulating you for your decision, for your continuing success in sticking to it, and for being willing to share your story with us.
One thing your post reminded me of was that drug abuse looks different in different people. People use in their own ways, in their own places and times.
MKP, thank you so much for sharing your story. I too come from a long line of alcoholics, and have had recurrent periods of what I consider “problem drinking”.
Non-drinking is hugely threatening to active drinkers, whether they’re drinking alcoholically or not. I’ve experienced that from both sides, and it sucks. Having supportive people around you and then developing the ability to be your own support- that is enormous.
Drinking: A Love Story is one of the best books on addiction and women that I’ve ever read, and it’s really one of the things that made me look at the relationships and the patterns in my life. The way she talked about alcohol – lovingly – was how I felt about it as well. It’s gotten better: I have a drink maybe once or twice a month, now, and if I start feeling emotionally attached to those drinks, I stop entirely.
Thank you again for sharing your story.
MKP, I had no idea alcoholism was in your past (and sobriety was in your now). Congratulations on making such a huge change in your life and being able to maintain it. My family has a history of alcoholism and a few blackouts of my own have scared me out of the drink-to-party lifestyle forever. I imagine being totally alcohol free is much harder than being just a one-beer girl, and I salute you.
Thanks for sharing your story, and congratulations on your sobriety!
I’d also highly recommend Drinking: A Love Story to anyone interested in learning about any type of addiction. Alcohol has never been a problem for me, but food has. I read that book at the height of my eating disorder and I littered the pages with underscores, notes, and simple exclamations of “YES!!!” Even though Knapp was talking about a different substance, the feelings, impulses, urges, needs, and desires were the same. It made me feel a lot less alone.
MKP, you have my respect, and a hearty congratulations on your sobriety.
I’ll throw my recommendation in for Drinking: A Love Story. I think it’s a must-read for anyone with an addict in their lives.
Cheers, MKP! Thanks for writing this.
This was a great read. It’s really incredible that you recognized your problem when you were so young and that you’ve gotten sober now. I’m glad you’ve found something that works for you and thankful that you were ready and willing to share your story with us. Thanks, MKP.
For what it’s worth, MKP and everyone else who complained about the pressure to drink, for me that got much better once I was older. College students needed the validation of everyone else drinking too. Grad students appreciated always having a designated driver volunteer. Likewise, older coworkers were way more likely to have health/abuse issues of their own, and much less likely to pry into my drink choices.
I don’t have abuse issues, I just don’t like the taste of alcohol. I also hated coffee until a few years ago, and I never smoke pot, which makes me nauseous. This did prompt one memorable exchange during a camping trip when, having seen me turn down all three things, one woman demanded to know if I was Mormon, infusing the word with all the disbelief and disdain I usually reserve for pedophiles and people who park in handicap spaces without a permit.
Thanks so much for sharing your story, MKP. My parents don’t drink for cultural reasons so I wasn’t really exposed to alcohol until college where I pretty much drank moderately. I was and continue to be so surprised at how much drinking goes on in my professional life, at happy hours and team dinners. I work with mostly men and its amazing to see how my male peers have gotten so much closer with male managers and directors because they go out binge drinking together, something my female co-workers would either never be invited to participate in or would be gossiped about if we did.
I’m wondering if you have read the book “Smashed: The Story of a Drunken Girlhood” by Koren Zailckas. I loved it when I read it in high school, but I feel like her book is about deeper issues than just alcohol abuse. Harpies, has anyone else read this book?
MKP,
Thank you for that post. You’ve just described the first and second year after I turned 21 and you’ve also helped me make sense along with everyones posts why I lost a really good friend when I decided to sober up: she was still in the problem while I was trying to crawl out. I still occasionally drink but the fact that I don’t even wish to get to buzzed paints people in a different light when I start to catch shit for it. I have by no means completely sworn off but I hope to get there less something happens to me like you’ve bravely described in your post.
Bravo for your choice and for your difficult journey.
@ThatBrownGirl – thanks for the recommendation – I haven’t read “Smashed” but it absolutely sounds like something up my alley
And thanks again to everyone who commented with their personal experiences – one of the limitations of an alcoholic mind is that (especially when I was drinking) I never noticed that some people just didn’t drink. I felt like everyone drank the way I did (which in college was kinda true), and as I’ve gotten further from my last drink I’ve been able to gravitate towards people who don’t have alcohol problems, instead of finding the hardest drinking person in the room (Drunkdar is an impressive thing
this post really hit home. my little sister recently swore off alcohol because she knew she was starting to go down a bad path. she’s only 20, and I’m so proud of her.
and wow, glad I’m not the only one who thinks it’s so damn annoying when people think they’re entitled to expect everyone to drink. this JUST happened to me last week. post time.
That was a really touching article. Thank you for posting it, and congratulations on your sobriety. I wish that more people had the courage to publicise these kinds of experiences.
I drank a fair bit when I was younger, and for a period in my early teens, I drank secretly (not necessary, because my parents never had a problem with alcohol in moderation) and alone. I don’t drink a lot now, because of how good it made me feel then… because I was drinking when I woke up in the morning and couldn’t sleep without a nightcap. So I’ll drink socially, but the second I think to myself ‘I need a drink’, I remove myself from any situation where booze is readily available.
I just got back from a 5 month working vacation in a very remote location, and everyone there drank a lot, because there was nothing else to do. They were, all of them, convinced that I was anti-alcohol because I was so ‘innocent’ and I just didn’t understand what I was missing out on. It was SO annoying.
[...] year I told my story over at Harpyness, (t/w for discussion of drinking and *ahem* general frank and uncensored soul-baring – fair [...]