A bit of an update. Looks like I'll be going into rehab on Thursday. I'm absolutely

terrified about the future, that I'll relapse, that I'll die of withdrawal while in

rehab. I am ashamed of myself for what I've allowed myself to become. Maybe it's just

the depression talking, maybe it's the alcoholism, but I've always thought of myself

as a terrible person. My struggles with alcohol have, in my eyes, only confirmed this

fact.

I'm intending to go to AA as soon as I get out. My mother didn't go to AA because

she's an athiest and thus had a problem with the Christian overtones, but that's no

problem for me as I am a protestant Christian and embrace God, even if I haven't been

to church in years.

The truth is, I hate almost everything about drinking. I hate the taste of all forms

of alcohol. I had what it does to my body. I hate that it makes me gain weight. I hate

that it makes me spend literally hundreds of dollars a week on it. But, at the risk of

triggering someone, I'll say that I love being drunk. I don't think that'll ever

change. And I fear that the temptation to put myself back in that state, that hazy,

lightheaded state, will be too great to ignore. I'm afraid of myself, of what I've

become.

Besides, I work in a warehouse where, believe it or not, the products we ship are

alcoholic beverages. But it's not that fact, that I'm around alcohol every day, Monday

through Friday, that serves as a trigger. It's that many of my coworkers are men under

the age of thirty, as am I (I'm twenty-seven). The drinking culture among such young

men is so strong, in fact, I can tell my coworkers that I got blackout drunk on a

Tuesday night, and so long as I don't mention that I did it alone, no one will bat an

eye. I'm afraid that this fact, that these conversations that inevitably take place

will trigger me into a relapse.

They say that alcoholism has a strong hereditary component. Well, my mother, my

father, and even my former stepfather are all alcoholics. My mother hasn't had a drink

in four years, or so she says, and I believe her. I'm not sure about the others, as I

have no contact with my former stepfather, and haven't spoken to my father in eight

years. My father even used to have me mix his drinks for him. At the time, when I was

a child, I thought it was funny to intentionally mix the strongest drinks possible,

but looking back on it I regret every moment. In saying that, I'm not trying to shift

the blame onto other people; I fully accept that my current problem is the fault of no

one but myself. Nevertheless, one has to wonder whether my upbringing by alcoholics

might've had some influence on my present state. There are so many moments from my

childhood that at the time made no sense to me but now, if interpreted through the

lens of alcoholism, make perfect sense.

Sorry if this is a rambling post, it's just random thoughts on the topic that have

occurred to me.