Hello, I’m a mom, and I struggle with alcoholism. I may not fit the stereotypical image of an alcoholic — I’m a well-educated, middle-class 36-year-old who attends church. But I’ve come to understand that I have inherited a genetic predisposition to alcoholism.
My family has a long history with alcohol. My father was an alcoholic who quit drinking when I was just a baby. I never felt ashamed of his struggle; instead, I viewed it as a genetic issue that made it difficult for him to control his drinking. Sadly, I’ve inherited that same challenge.
My relationship with alcohol has always been tumultuous. It felt like a toxic relationship that I couldn’t leave. For years, I found myself in a cycle of excessive drinking, followed by attempts to cut back, only to end up drinking heavily again. It was a repetitive cycle: drink too much, promise to change, and then, inevitably, find myself back in the same position.
When I would wake up sick, I’d establish strict rules for my drinking habits. I told myself I would only consume alcohol on weekends, avoid hard liquor, and stick to beer. These guidelines never worked because the issue was rooted deep within my brain. With a malfunctioning “off” switch, I couldn’t just stop once I started.
Normal drinkers can enjoy a drink and then stop. For me, one sip leads to a desire for more — and suddenly I’m dancing on tables or getting into ridiculous situations. It took a long time for me to accept my “allergy” to alcohol because, at times, I could manage to drink moderately, making me feel secure. But I never knew which version of myself would show up at the bar: the controlled “One-Drink Alex” or the wild “Party-Until-I-Pass-Out Alex.”
While I never became dependent on alcohol in the traditional sense, I always recognized the potential danger. The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous reminds us that alcoholism is a progressive disease — it can start with heavy drinking and escalate to dependency. I often found myself thinking, “I don’t have a problem because I haven’t hit rock bottom — yet.”
I never reached that lowest point, but I could see it looming on the horizon. With a little divine intervention, I decided to part ways with alcohol before it took me there.
Sobriety hasn’t been a walk in the park. Alcohol is ubiquitous in our society — from sporting events to brunches and even at kids’ birthday parties. When I decline a drink, people often assume I’m either expecting a child or judging them, which can be uncomfortable. And let’s be honest, it sometimes makes me want to reach for a drink.
The world can be a daunting place, and without liquid courage, I’m exploring new coping mechanisms like prayer, meditation, and the occasional indulgence in comfort food.
If you find yourself grappling with similar challenges, I want you to know you’re not alone. You are not a failure, and you certainly aren’t a loser. Perhaps today is the day you acknowledge your own “off” switch may be a little broken. If so, let’s stick together — we can share snacks at the next gathering and reassure everyone that no, we’re not pregnant.
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Summary:
In this candid reflection, a mother shares her personal struggle with alcoholism, detailing her family history and the challenges of navigating sobriety while raising children. She illustrates the complexities of her relationship with alcohol, acknowledging her genetic predisposition and the societal pressures surrounding drinking. The narrative emphasizes the importance of recognizing one’s struggles and finding support, while also offering resources for those interested in fertility and insemination.

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