I just finished reading "Drink" by Ann Dowsett Johnston. My age is 47 years old now. Within me I know I am disorganised, and in a mess but on the outside, I try to appear composed and cheerful.

Although I have realised for some time that I have issues with alcohol, this book helped me to deal with them. but strangely got me relieved to know I am not alone. Several problems in my life caused my misuse of alcohol and the usual reasons such as hereditary factors, and indiscipline does not feature. Developing to maturity was very difficult - my dad was a serial cheater, my mum had no self-respect and overweight, unpopular me was abandoned to take care of myself most of the time. Emotionally, I was totally self-reliant.

It was really odd that I never drank when I was in high school My university days was a different scenario with students partying without inhibitions while the school attempts to portray its intellectual capability. And so started my way into binge drinking and consequent bad character - beginning from black outs, to dreadful hangovers to unfitting sexual practices.

I figured the main path for a hefty young lady to have a sexual experience was to be plastered with similarly as smashed young men.

I arouse one morning, naked in bed with some guy in a frat home in Montreal'.. I look back and it is really a miracle I didn't get badly harmed, land up in an infirmary or drunk tank or pregnant.

Then life goes on - I dated a nice guy, at the same time registered as a nurse and achieved a masters degree. On weekend we hang out together, occasionally drank wine together, and when I'm not together with him I would buy me a bottle for myself.

Time flew, and so did my life; I got married, had two kids and during the months preceding their birth I avoided alcohol. Life progressed, I found myself getting older day by day, the nice guy turned into workaholic husband with anger issues, one of my child turned out got ADHD, I was really stressed out at that time'. I would drank almost everyday, usually on Thursday-Sunday.

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My better half got snared on a neighbourhood "mix your-own" so we had cases and instances of wine...and soon a daily custom to split one or two.... Covertly, I started blending my own mixed drinks and keeping the glass covered up in my heating cabinet.

When I return home - and face the family mess, getting dinner, attempting to get ADHD kid to concentrate on homework while prying the other erratic of his iPod.....I can just consider blending that drink....which I continue refilling until in the long run I nod off or go out. In the mornings, what I do first is to go through my I-phone to find out whom I may have accidentally texted while being intoxicated.

Strangely, it doesn't end there for a couple of years back I got entangled in an extramarital affair with a family friend. With a couple of hugs as the only physical aspect of the affair yet it was as passionate and exciting compared to most relationships with a lot of emphasis on a physical connection. The beep of my phone which signifies the entry of a message always gave me that ecstatic sensation. Regularly, our phone conversation transpired for long durations and intermittently as well.

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I was content at this high point in my life. The relationship was getting dangerously near intersection the sexual line and he pulled back. I was emotionally wounded and desolate, so my use of alcohol grew.

My mixed drinks alleviated me they helped the agony.

Every time I remember the events of my life, a sensation of guilt runs through me. The inebriated scenes:

  • Getting completely pounded last Christmas at a mixed drink party
  • Squandered at my sister's 50th birthday
  • Fuming messages on my iPhone
  • Screaming fits in the presence of my kids
  • Boxing my husband in the face
  • An aggregate yelling battle one night when my child had a companion dozing over

I am in counselling which has been an illuminating realisation.....plus reading Ann's book and now finding out this website and reading related stories. I feel like I am returning back home.