My Last One

Well, I'm sat in a bar having my last drink. It's time to say goodbye old friend. I have mixed feelings about it. I know we haven't got along well recently, but I am sad to see you go. We've had some really fun times, you've made me giggle and dance and enjoy the evening all the more for having you around. You've helped me relax when I was stressed, calmed me down when I was anxious, picked me up when I was down. But lately you've been more demanding, asking for my attention when I'm busy, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. You've taken time I should have spent with my children, my husband, my friends. It's taken it's toll on my physical and mental health so now I'm saying goodbye. I don't know how I'll cope without you, so I'm going away to learn. I won't see you for a while. When I get back, I don't want to get in contact. My friends an see you, but Ijust can't. I'm scared and I'll miss you, but I know it's for the best.

Clearly stated

There is something rather odd about going to an Alcohol Unit with a hangover, kind of like saying, do you really need to come here to find this out?? The unit itself is tucked away behind an industrial estate, not obvious, no one will see you walking in. I stood and looked and went to open the door when I discovered that it was a buzz entry only - great, they lock us in here as well. A boxy unit with several small corridors, not the most of welcoming of places, but I suppose they're not meant to be. The man I had an appointment with never told me his name, or introduced himself, he lead me to a room where we sat and began the interview.

It was a standard form for alcohol and drug alike, so not all of the questions were relevant, but he needed to ask them anyway. I sat there trying very hard to concentrate and remember what had just been asked, but nerves again got the better of me and the experience is hazy to say the least. There were definite questions about lifestyle, when, where, how much do I drink? How often? What effect does it have if I do not drink, how long can I go without? Then there were the questions to which I could see no real point, these I have appropriately forgotten. I had expected to have more of a 'chat' than a formal interview and was surprised when he said 'that's all the questions'. Followed promptly by ' right, so you are alcohol dependant. I would like you to come to our pre-detox group.'
Bugger.
So that was it, clearly stated, there can now be no more hiding from this fact. It will be written in my medical notes, sent to my doctor as I need some vitamin which alcohol dependant people are regularly lacking, and sent away waiting for a letter regarding the group. Clinical, precise and to the point.
Bugger.
Not that I was given the green light to go ahead and drink, but I was clearly told, do not stop. Apparently it can be dangerous and rather unpleasant to simply stop, hence the group. Do not touch wine or spirits, as they are very bad, stick to beer, lower alcohol ones if possible, we will be in touch.
Bugger.
This can't be right, surely not. I just don't understand it - I can drink a grown man under the table yes, but dependant? It just sounds so ... tacky. Pathetic. Not nice. And once you have been told that, drinking changes forever. No longer the fun party time stuff of mad nights and adventures, now all I can see is me sitting on a bench with a bottle of cheap cider covered in a Tesco carrier bag! OK, so I may be exaggerating, but the effect is the same, now it is something I need to have rather than am choosing to have. And that's just not as enjoyable.

So it begins ...

I will spare you at this point my life history, these things are best ventured after an intial period of aquantaince!
Let me start with my trip to the Psychiatrist. My best friend being away, I took with me my oldest friend, who knows me inside and out and although it may have made for an uncomfortable encounter, in hindsite she probably was the best person to take along. Dr A was very nice, gentle and human - something which you cannot always ensure amongst the Mental Health profession. He declined to ask a full history due to the enormous pack of 3 notes sitting beside him. I am sure he had already made his mind up just by the size of these folders. He did ask about my recent moods and general Psychiatric history. I honestly cannot remeber much of this meeting due to extreme nervousness and a certain amount of hangover. Which brings me to a comment made, but not thanked for! I had mentioned to my own Dr about how much I was drinking - she in turn mentioned I had spoken about it to her before. I did? That should have been a big enough clue I suppose.
'And she's been drinking a lot. I would say she has a problem with it, but she probably won't agree'. Thanks mate.
A short discussion surrounding drinking habits, shakes, urges and lifestyle lead Dr A to state, 'Yes. You do have a drinking problem.'
Shit.
So away I went, slightly unconcerned for the diagnosis of Depressive Disorder, blood test in hand, pescription waiting to be filled, sitting in my head surrounded by those words - you have a drinking problem. Something I have laughed about since a teenager, now clearly stated by a medical professional and placed on my records forever.
I cannot even begin to explain how much self will it took not to walk out of there straight into the local pub!
I was sent in the direction of the local Alcohol and drug team and told, 'noone can make you go, but I would seriously urge it.'

So that is what I have done. Without telling anyone - seriously not ready for that yet - I made a phone call and had an appointment the next day.