My uncle by marriage was an alcoholic. I recall as a kid visiting my Aunt’s house where he’d be stretched out on the sofa. We looked at him from the distance as if he was an alien, and I don’t ever remember exchanging dialogue with him. We spurned him because he was a heavy drinker, a loser, to be hated rather than healed. We blamed him for making my Aunt’s life hell when his was probably worse than anyone’s. 

I honestly believe that millions of people are suffering silently and the stigma against alcoholism (and addiction) seems to prolong the need for anonymity. Media coverage identifies all who drink or do drugs as criminals. When loss of life occurs, and it very easily and tragically happens, we are. Most of the time we’re just pathetic. 

We look at the homeless as alcoholic losers. Hell, if they can panhandle, they can get a job at Taco Bell and earn their living. The problem is they can’t. Alcoholism is immobilizing. I am on the verge of not being functional myself. All I can think about is my next drink, how I can manage it, where I can go, and how long I can wait for it. I am a master at sneaking nips, hiding the evidence, maintaining some semblance of normalcy. I do it by staying away from people, from co-workers, from public places, from social situations. I am practiced at this life and feeding the monster. 

Alcoholism is all consuming because it is the only relief we believe we have from our personal hells, real or imagined. 

Since the accident, I have told several friends I trust about my drinking. This has been the biggest initial challenge for me, the loner. I am adept at covering up because of the social stigma. One is also an alcoholic who was booked on a DUI and has been a great help understanding what I can expect, not that it makes it any less frightening. Another is a co-worker who has really opened up and been sympathetic to my plight in a non-judgmental way. Another an editor for a major magazine. Yet another a Christian who lives his Love like no other I’ve met. He continues to worry and pray for me. 

The last was my best friend in Switzerland. Her response was odd and I’m not certain I feel comfortable having told her. There are those who will be uncomfortable with this – pick your confidantes wisely. 

My next confession will be to a lawyer. Forgive me, Doctor of Juris Prudence, for I have sinned. It has been a long time since I’ve faced up to this. It’s none of your business how long; just help me out of this mess.