My cousin is going through rehab/sobriety training

I'm an alcoholic!

I spent my entire childhood working, even though I was living in Washington, D.C. starting at five years old.
Back when I was working physical labor on our construction site, I could knock back about a liter of wine a day in the sun while mixing concrete without even feeling it. I was only 14 at the time, and my old man was the one handing it to me.

I started out as an apprentice, and then it was all about the veteran foremen. You’d work like a dog for a day or two, but once they decided it was time to start drinking, the sessions would drag on for days. We were working on construction sites, getting paid by the job, and I was only fifteen years old—already knocking back liters of wine like some kind of scientist. That was the "education" you got from the old-timers: if you weren't drinking, you weren't a real pro.

And that’s how things went. I was pretty withdrawn back then. Instead of going out to parties, I spent my time drinking and working out in the field.
I met this wonderful woman and ended up marrying her. She had no idea I was an alcoholic; she just thought I occasionally went out for a drink here and there, since I never drank at home.

We got married and lived together in a tiny studio apartment right off Broadway. I was an alcoholic back then. I’d show up home drunk, and before my wife could even get through the door, I’d find a way to sober up just enough to start drinking all over again, only to end up wasted once more.

She finally realized I’m an alcoholic, though I never let it show when I'm home.
When my child arrived, I stepped up. I was a great dad, doing everything I could to stick to my diet while making sure I supported my wife through it all.

I headed back out into the field, but things just reverted to the old ways. Once the market got involved, everything started heating up again. I used to have my own workshop, too.

Back in 1966, my wife told me we couldn't keep living like this. She’s out there working and managing our entire diet, while I wasn't contributing anything financially or helping with the meal planning.

I headed out to Denver, Colorado... though I have to admit, my hopes for us staying together were pretty slim to begin with. I was told that if I want any chance at all, I need to quit drinking. After that, we'll see.

I won't go into too much detail about those three years. I spent them cutting corners and testing my limits with alcohol. Eventually, I managed to quit. But it wasn't easy—when everyone else in my apartment building would head out for lunch drinks, I really struggled. I realized that if I wanted to actually make it, I had to change my environment, find a new circle, and start my life over from scratch.

Luckily, my wife trusted me—even if she had her doubts at first—and we ended up moving to Australia back in 1969. I landed a job almost immediately once we arrived. I didn't bother socializing much; I just kept my head down and went straight from home to work and back again.
My brother-in-law had been drinking, and things got messy. He assumed my wife would handle all the cooking and the housework while he went to work, leaving the two of us to sit around and drink for a while. We shut that idea down pretty quickly. I told him straight up that I was here to start over and that I was done with the booze. We had a falling out because of it, but I’m sticking to my word and staying sober.

I hadn't touched a drop in about six years. Then one night, I was working over at my father-in-law's place. He was drinking and kept pressing me to join him. I gave in to one glass, then another, and before we knew it, we had polished off two liters of bourbon. Even now, nearly thirty years later, I can still feel that burn in my stomach.

I didn't touch a drop until 1980. We took the whole plant out for our Christmas dinner that year, and everyone was giving me a hard time. They were calling me an idiot, insisting I show them what I had in me, so I ended up knocking back three liters of vermouth. Once you're an alcoholic, you're an alcoholic for life.

It's been 24 years since I last touched or drank a drop of alcohol.
I've been feeling so under the weather lately that I'm practically living on a mountain of pills. It's enough to knock anyone sideways. Still, I know plenty of people who manage to balance drinking and taking medication at the same time.

I've known plenty of people who passed away around age 60 due to complications from alcoholism, liver disease, and various heart issues.

Everything is subjective, really—it all depends on how much you actually want it. But let's look at the context and the crowd. Most of us are just social drinkers. We might have three to five drinks or a bottle of beer a day, but that doesn't make us alcoholics.

Do you all agree with this?
The answer is simple: these people have the same issues, they just haven't dug deep enough to face them.
They aren't alcoholics.

I drank for 14 years. I'm not proud of it, but I will say this: becoming an alcoholic is far too easy.

I think I can finally speak on this now. I quit at twenty-eight.
If only I could have escaped the fallout from my struggles with alcohol... though, in all fairness, I also bear the weight of those few years of marriage that were so incredibly hard on my wife.

It’s hard to give advice when everyone’s situation is different. We all have our own circumstances and environments to deal with. I know that, for my own sake, I had to step away from certain things to protect my family. My goal was simple: I wanted to be a skilled craftsman, a good father, and a reliable husband. I just wanted to stay positive and be a man of my word.

I’m not sure if I was actually much help, but I feel pretty good about getting this done. Looking back at my old mentors—most of whom have passed on now—it’s hard not to notice they were mostly failures, alcoholics, and liars. In my experience, those things tend to go hand in hand.

Sorry for the long-windedness,

👋

🙂 😉 😎

Kudos to Jamie Clark74 for being so brutally honest about how you personally tackle this whole mess.
But honestly, it feels like my uncle was one of those guys who didn't quite make it out of the 1865 miles lifestyle—he unfortunately checked out way too early because of being an alcoholic.
From what I can tell, you actually had the willpower to quit. Sure, you maybe stumbled a few times when things got tough, but you found the strength and finally pulled it off.
I guess the most important thing—really the only thing that matters—is just having the awareness that it’s destroying you and actually wanting to stop.
Did you ever hit up any AA meetings during your sober stretches? And does having that support from people who have walked the same path actually help?
A cousin of mine used to go about two years ago, but I guess he just wasn't feeling it.
I think that part is huge—being there when you're in a crisis, and also realizing that you can be the one reaching out to help someone else, rather than always being the one needing a hand to stay sober.

Drew Young10 said:It’s a brutal thing, both mentally and physically. He’s already been hospitalized back in his hometown—twice now. Each time, the doctors warned him that if he didn't quit drinking, it could be fatal, but he just wouldn't listen. The first stint was in the liver ward, and the second was in psych. But it isn't quite what people imagine; they aren't exactly shackled to their beds or anything. They can basically wander out whenever they want, and there's a liquor store right across the street😢 so he likely grabbed a drink there too.
He's currently in Washington, D.C. over on Broadway, and even there, you have the opportunity to leave the hospital grounds, which means the possibility of buying alcohol.

Does anyone here have experience dealing with alcoholism—perhaps someone from within a family—to say whether it's actually curable?

It's the same everywhere (here). A patient has to make the decision themselves; they have to reach a point of self-awareness where they realize they have the power to choose. Unfortunately, it's the kind of disease where once you start up again, you simply don't know how to stop. Alcoholism is truly a horrific illness. I once knew a guy in his early 20s who they predicted had maybe a week or two left to live—he was nothing but skin and bone, yet had that massive, distended belly.

Drew Young10, check your inbox.
I'm pulling for you guys, no matter which video you end up going with!👋

Drew Young10 says:

It seems to me you had the willpower to quit. You stumbled a few times when faced with different challenges, but you had the strength to pull through in the end.
In my view, the most vital thing—the only thing that matters—is realizing it's harmful and having the genuine desire to stop.
During your sober periods, did you ever attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings? Did you find support from people who have walked a similar path helpful?>

Since I was 28 years old back in 1969... I'd say I slipped up a couple of times, but that’s not what counts. I never went back to the lifestyle. Sure, at my kids' weddings, I might have had two glasses of champagne, or maybe a beer or two on a sweltering hot day... but that was it. I never lost control or returned to heavy drinking.
Back when I was living in Denver from 1966 to 1969, I made a promise to myself. I started cutting back—from every day to twice a week, then once a week, slowly tapering off until I stopped completely. It was still tough when everyone else was drinking and I wasn't, but eventually, everything changed when we moved to Australia.

No, I never sought advice from anyone or joined Alcoholics Anonymous. For me, what worked was seeing my happy wife and my six-year-old son, and simply starting a new life.

It's hard to say. Alcohol destroys lives all over the world, but how many misunderstandings, family conflicts, financial ruins, or broken childhoods does it cause?

I wish I could offer more practical advice, but first and foremost, a person has to actually WANT to stop living like an alcoholic. And that
is the hardest part... and then, despite the social pressure and your surroundings, refusing to pick it up again.

I consider myself very lucky that I made it!

Before he headed off to rehab in Washington, D.C., there were some pretty heavy moments when he’d swing by a relative's place for coffee. Some were just sad, others were honestly kind of ridiculous. We’d sit there acting like everything was perfectly fine, even though he barely said a word—and on the rare occasion he actually did speak, it took him five minutes just to get one sentence out. Then, out of nowhere, he’d vanish for five minutes. And, well, we all knew exactly where he went. Once he started feeling a little better, he’d get this idea that he’d somehow tricked us, thinking we all believed he was just heading to the restroom or stepping outside for a smoke.

Some good news to share. My cousin got discharged from the hospital about three weeks ago, and honestly, everything seems to be looking up. It used to be that he’d be reaching for a drink almost immediately after leaving—but this time, things are different. It’s like he’s finally shifted into a higher gear; he’s talking faster, cracking jokes, actually laughing again.
He’s heading back to work this Monday.
He’s also been hitting his AA meetings several times a week without fail.
It’s all great, really, but I just hope he realizes how thin the line is. One beer, one single drink, and he could be right back at the edge of the abyss. Alcohol is everywhere in this country—it’s just so damn accessible and constant. I really hope he can handle those temptations when they come knocking.
I’m trying to stay optimistic.

So, a few sober months actually went by. We basically "forgot" all about the drinking problem. It’s not like we were actively dodging the subject, we just... didn't talk about it much. My cousin was making regular trips to Washington, D.C. for his check-ups—I think it was once a month. Everything was fine. All five tests came back clean.
Then today, he rolls back into the house absolutely wasted 😢 😢
Just another miserable Christmas

I'm an alcoholic....but the last time I really went overboard was... well, a very long time ago.

I started drinking back when I was about 14, helping out with construction work around the house... if I had just kept going
until I was 26... I was married then... and eventually moved to Denver to get away from certain crowds. I slowly scaled back from being drunk twice a day to just having a drink in the evening, then every other day, and finally just once a week.

In my case, it was mostly hanging out with a group of old tradesmen... once I walked away from that crowd, things got easier... I never drank at home.
I haven't touched it since we immigrated back in 1969... but thirty or thirty-five years ago, if I had even one drink, I wouldn't stop until I was dead drunk... that happened maybe four times during my 35th year.

For the last 30 years, I'll have one glass and that's usually enough.

Our nation, like so many others, doesn't realize how many alcoholics there actually are; everyone thinks they're just social drinkers.

Quitting alcohol is never easy... I was just incredibly grateful that I realized early on how much damage I was doing to my family. They gained nothing from me, regardless of how good of a craftsman I was or how driven I was to succeed.

The will to quit has to come from within, otherwise, you won't succeed... it's easy to quit for a little while when you know you're just going to crawl back to it.

It's the same story with smoking... but that's a different conversation entirely!

🙂 😉 😎

So, my cousin showed up at my place yesterday absolutely wasted—like, totally hammered. Apparently, his coworkers had to practically carry him in. To make matters worse, his wife and both kids are packing up and leaving him. They're getting a divorce.