Before you read this, let me say that I am NOT minimizing the devastating impact and painful aspects of cancer or any other chronic or terminal disease.  Moreover, progress is being made in accepting alcoholism and addiction as a disease and thus the compassion for those who suffer from it. This is for discussion and meant to set a certain perspective up for view here.

If someone has cancer and they don’t treat it, most likely they’ll die. If someone with cancer is in remission, and their cancer returns, its sad and people support them unconditionally.

If someone has alcoholism and they don’t treat it, most likely they’ll die. I know, I see it all the time. Yet, if someone with alcoholism stays sober for a while then drinks again, they’ve “fallen off the wagon“, “don’t want it bad enough” , “have no will-power“,  “or just aren’t ready.”

I say bullshit. Can you imagine someone saying that to a cancer patient who’s cancer returns? “Guess they’re not ready and or just don’t want it bad enough…”

With shows such as A&E’s Intervention, the public perception of alcoholism and addiction is changing. This is a good thing, especially since it is making it more acceptable for those who have issues with addiction to ask for help.

The National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA) a part of the National Institutes of Health, answers the question:

Is alcoholism a disease?

Yes, alcoholism is a disease. The craving that an alcoholic feels for alcohol can be as strong as the need for food or water. An alcoholic will continue to drink despite serious family, health, or legal problems.

Like many other diseases, alcoholism is chronic, meaning that it lasts a person’s lifetime; it usually follows a predictable course; and it has symptoms. The risk for developing alcoholism is influenced both by a person’s genes and by his or her lifestyle. (See also “Publications,” Alcohol Alert No. 30: Diagnostic Criteria for Alcohol Abuse and Dependence.)

A Look at The Disease Concept from An Alcoholic

Even though in treatment I was told alcoholism was a disease, it was hard for me to accept. A part of me wanted to hold on to the idea that I could control my drinking, thus rejecting the entire disease concept. Each time I would end up at a new bottom, I slowly started to accept that maybe it was a disease after-all.

Finally, in my last treatment visit in March of 2006, I simply conceded to myself, that if I could start to accept the disease concept, maybe it meant I wasn’t a total peace of shit after-all. Now this may seem sort of like a paradox, that by blaming my terrible alcoholic actions on a disease, I’m avoiding responsibility. Or maybe this is just an alcoholic getting into their head too much, but for me it was an important step towards recovery.

I had such low-self esteem as the result living years of self-destructive behavior. Now, it’s important to point out that this is NOT what I showed on the inside. And for the most part, not what I believed about myself on the inside. Alcoholism is the only disease that continually tries to convince those who suffer from it that they DO NOT have it. Conversely, I had what I was showing the world on the outside, confused with what I was feeling on the inside. As long as I had my shit together, I was OK. Truth was, inside I was dying a slow painful death. I can clearly look back and see that about myself today. Compared to the peace and happiness I have inside today, it’s night and day.

There’s some dialog in the movie 28 Days that sort of puts into perspective the mindset of an alcoholic or addict. The person speaking is Steve Bushimi’s character, Cornell:

“If that will make you happy, I will stop drinking. And then I would tell myself tonight I will not get wasted. And then something would happen. Or nothing would happen. And I’d get that feeling and you all know what that feeling is; when your skin is screaming and your hands are shaking and your stomach feels like it wants to jump through your throat. And you know that if anyone had a clue how wrong it felt to be sober, they wouldn’t dream of asking you to stay that way. They would say oh geez, I didn’t know. It’s okay for you. Do that mound of cocaine. Have a drink. Have 20 drinks. Whatever you need to do to feel like a normal human being, you do it. And boy I did it. I drank and I snorted. I drank and snorted. I drank and snorted. And I did this day after day, day after day, night after night. I didn’t care about the consequences because I knew they couldn’t be half as bad as not using. And then one night something happened. I woke up. I woke up on a sidewalk and I had no idea where I was. I couldn’t have told you what city I was in. And my head was pounding and I looked down and my shirt is covered in blood. And as I’m lying there wondering what happens next and I heard a voice. And it said man, this is not a way to live. This is a way to die.”

Many nights I prayed for cancer. As I write this, I feel that maybe those who have been deeply affected by cancer think I’m making light of their fear, pain, suffering, and struggles. How could someone wish that? The alcoholic depression, fear, and self-loathing was so much I prayed for death. I slept under a bridge with hopes of being mugged. I would walk through the seedy part of downtown with my bag of liquor and nice wool coat, thinking how easy it would be if someone just robbed and shot me dead. And I prayed that I would die in my sleep or get cancer. At least with cancer people would say, “that’s so terrible, he was a great guy” and I could get love and sympathy, OH, and drugs!! What a way to go. Drinking myself to death was just pathetic.

On the night of March 12th, 2006, I had finally ran out of alcohol and was too weak to walk the two blocks to the liquor store. Besides, the vodka just wouldn’t go down anymore. When the poison touched my throat, it burned and immediately sent my throat and esophagus into convulsions. I would try and follow it with water, but I couldn’t swallow it quick enough.

I had tried treatment centers a few times before and just figured I was too broken. Plus I owed them a lot of money already. Surely they wouldn’t take me back. So the way I saw it, I had two choices; suicide or try recovery again. Suicide was a real option and I totally understand why so many people choose it. Sometimes it’s better for people to just get some relief. What that said, I do think NOT committing suicide was one of the first real unselfish things I did.

One way or another, alcoholism will kill me if I leave it untreated. In recovery, I surround myself with people who understand the disease. Who won’t completely shut me out and judge me if I show symptoms of my disease. Symptoms like drinking. As I’m writing this, I haven’t had a drink in 1,334 days. Yes, there’s an “app” for that

Some people…(OK, I’ve read and heard people say it so I know it’s out there)… believe that alcoholism treatment centers are only there to make money off information and programs most alcoholics and addicts can get for free through AA or NA.  As I’ve said before, Alcoholism Treatment centers are great places for discovery, but recovery happens as a result of the type of program you work when you get out of treatment. True long-term sobriety comes from spiritual and holistic growth, however you go about getting that.

The amazing thing about recovery and the disease of alcoholism, is that as I help others and become a useful member of society “AS” a recovered alcoholic, I represent those who are still drinking and have a chance. I sponsor a lot of guys, sometimes more than others, and the majority of them go back out. Many come back, and some I never hear from again. But I always tell them the same thing if and when they come back, “just stay alive.” As long as you’re alive, there’s a chance.

photo credit: David Paul Ohmer

The definition of Alcoholism as published by the Journal of the American Medical Association:

“Alcoholism is a primary, chronic disease with genetic, psychosocial, and environmental factors influencing its development and manifestations. The disease is often progressive and fatal. It is characterized by continuous or periodic: impaired control over drinking, preoccupation with the drug alcohol, use of alcohol despite adverse consequences, and distortions in thinking, most notably denial.”

Symptoms of alcoholism include:
Craving: A strong need, or compulsion, to drink.
Loss of control: The frequent inability to stop drinking once a person has begun.
Physical dependence: The occurrence of withdrawal symptoms, such as nausea, sweating, shakiness, and anxiety, when alcohol use is stopped after a period of heavy drinking. These symptoms are usually relieved by drinking alcohol or by taking another sedative drug.
Tolerance: The need for increasing amounts of alcohol in order to get “high.”

According to Alcoholics Anonymous, alcoholism is a two fold disease, a physical allergy plus an obsession of the mind. As a recovering alcoholic and from experience, I can tell you this is true.  The allergy being that an alcoholic’s body reacts differently than a non-alcoholic. As for the medical specifics of what this means, I’m neither qualified nor quite understand this myself. However, I heard something from a movie that helped put the allergy aspect into perspective. In the movie, Day’s of Wine and Roses, a friend is describing alcoholism to Jack Lemon and how it relates to an allergy, “How many strawberries does it take to start an allergy? And which one gives you hives? Alcoholism is an illness. It’s pretty hard to diagnose an illness until you’ve got it.”

The treatment for alcoholism is complicated yet must begin with the abstinence of alcohol.

One area I do know a lot about is the obsession of the mind. When I review the history of my drinking, the obsession for alcohol started many years before the disease took total control and begin to ruin my life completely. At first it was looking forward to the weekends simply for the purpose of drinking. Then it was 5:00 p.m. (quitting time). No matter what I was doing, thinking about when I was going to drink next became center stage in my mind. But just because I think about drinking does not make me an alcoholic. In my opinion, no one can diagnose someone as alcoholic. But a good indicator is if their life has become unmanageable due to the effects of their drinking.

As a recovering alcoholic, I know about the mental obsession aspect of alcoholism. Even after periods of abstinence and like any addiction, the thought of taking a drink still occurs. And once that first drink is taken, the obsession becomes a driving force in all aspects of the alcoholic’s life.

There are a few a common sayings in recovery concerning the first drink – “One is too many and a thousand is not enough” or “it’s the engine, not the caboose of a train that kills you.”

I woke up on March 16th of 1997 and decided to quit drinking. What’s so significant about that you say? At that point in my life, I had been drinking around 2 liters of vodka a day. When drinking that much, one cannot simply quit without some physical problems. I ended up in the hospital going through a severe detox for six days. At several points I was strapped down to the bed to prevent me from pulling out my IV’s. Detoxing from alcohol is serious and can even be fatal. So if someone you know has been drinking large amounts of alcohol for extended periods of time, make sure they seek medical attention if they decide to quit suddenly.

The point of this and how it relates with obsession, is after that day I did not take a drink of alcohol for over six years. One day I decided that “maybe I’m not an alcoholic…. after all it’s been six years since I had a drink.” So one evening with my girlfriend I had a glass of wine with a steak… it was a Merlot. The fact that I remember what type of wine it was and when illustrates how an alcoholic’s mind obsesses about alcohol. Once alcohol enters the system of an alcoholic, the mind begins to obsess about the next drink. Whether it’s a day, a week, or several months, the alcoholic thinking and obsession has returned. For me, it was several weeks before I had another drink and everyone, including myself, thought I was OK. But the truth was, I was constantly thinking about when and how I was going to drink again. After all, I had a glass of wine and the sky didn’t come falling down. “Maybe I’m not an alcoholic after all.”

Within a few short months, I was drinking just as much alcohol as I had been when I quit six years earlier. Even though an alcoholic stops drinking or tries different ways on how to stop drinking, the mind can still obsess about alcohol. That is where working some type of ongoing recovery program comes into play. Unless the alcoholic can deal with underlying emotionally issues, ones that they drank to avoid (whether they know it or not), and develop a life in which they continue to grow spiritually or holistically, the chances of maintaining long-term sobriety are slim.