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The Real Reason I Couldn’t Stop Drinking

This is the story of why I couldn’t stop drinking. And who knows, it might be the reason you can’t stop either.

If you ask my family and friends to describe me, the first thing they’d say is sensitive.

That’s because I get easily overwhelmed by everything around me.

Even as a child I always escaped to my imagination to find a more peaceful world.

I used to find comfort in books and movies.

There was no judgment there, no hard feelings, no complicated conversations.

In the real world I had to face my anxiety.

I worried about every little thing and felt like I was never good enough.

I constantly compared myself to others.

I always felt inferior and inadequate.

There has always been this pressure to succeed academically and socially, which weighed heavily on me.

My first encounter with alcohol was at a too young age.

It was at a family gathering and until this day I blame my parents for not protecting me from it.

I was immediately shocked by how alcohol made me feel.

It released the tension in my shoulders.

My anxiety disappeared in thin air.

And I felt so much more relaxed and outgoing.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I could just be myself.

The constant fear of judgment simply wasn’t there anymore.

As I got older, I began to rely on alcohol more and more to cope with life.

It became my escape, my way of tuning out the noise and the worries that constantly plagued me.

Alcohol was like a mask I could put on, of confidence and charm.

It completely masked the underlying insecurity and self-doubt.

But unfortunately, the escape from life was only temporary.

The hangovers were brutal.

They always left me feeling physically and emotionally drained.

The guilt and shame were overwhelming.

They made me feel even more trapped in my own misery.

I knew I was in a vicious cycle, but I couldn’t seem to break free.

I tried to quit on my own, but my resolve was always weakened by the allure of that temporary escape.

I felt like I was drowning in a sea of self-destruction. Unable to find my way back to the surface.

At some point I realized that I couldn’t get out of it on my own.

I needed help.

I reached out to friends, family and therapy.

I could finally admit that I needed an external force to make a change.

I wish I could say that it was an easy road.

There have been so many setbacks and countless moments of weakness.

There were too many days I’ve felt like giving up.

But I’ve also got to experience how amazing resilience felt like.

I learned to be kind to myself and forgive myself for my past mistakes.

I learned to anticipate and accept the challenges that lie ahead.

The best thing is that I got to know myself better.

That desire to escape from reality came from deep-seated insecurities.

And alcohol? That was nothing more than a temporary Band-Aid.

It was a way of avoiding the challenges I needed to face in order to grow and heal.

The path to healing was actually a process of learning to accept and love myself for who I am.

Flaws and all.

I’ve learned to face my fears rather than running away from them.

I’ve learned to accept my true self. Without the need to hide behind a façade of confidence.

I’ve learned that life is not always easy. But it’s also not meant to be endured.

It’s meant to be lived. Experienced. And embraced with all its ups and downs.

I realize that I’m not there yet. But at least I know that I have the strength and resilience to overcome things.