Also I’d say she is only 50% alcoholic so if you are looking to read about someone’s absolute mess rock bottom, this isn’t going to satisfy your craving.
I should know better than to read the comments section of a book review, or anywhere really, because reading anonymous comments on the internet is like going to the grocery store and suddenly being able to hear all the inane and offensive thoughts of strangers around you. If this happened in real life, you would probably stop going to the grocery store and would have to buy all your food online, which would just give you more time to read comments on the internet, so fortunately this is all hypothetical.
Except for the above comment, which was heartbreakingly real and written by some lady in response to a review of Diary of an Alcoholic Housewife, which I did not even particularly like, which makes this all even harder. The idea that someone can be “only 50% alcoholic” is almost as offensive as the idea that social drinkers are reading books about sobriety in hopes of catching a glimpse of someone’s “absolute mess rock bottom”.
Seriously, I hate the internet sometimes. Hate. It.
But here I am writing on the internet about why I hate the internet so I should probably illustrate why the notion of someone being “only 50% alcoholic” is offensive and upsetting.
The chart below is how alcoholic I might have seemed to a random non-alcoholic on the internet throughout my long and illustrious drinking career.
In 1986 I had Peppermint Schnapps at a slumber party and really that tells you all you need to about me and my drinking and how we were doomed from the start.
In 1991, I graduated from high school and blackout drinking and moved on to beer but had also already done a lot of dumb, dangerous things that I never would have done sober.
In 1996, I lived with my then-boyfriend, now-husband and started to realize that my drinking was not normal. Well, I knew this back in 1991, but living with someone else forced me to look at my drinking and hangovers instead of sweeping it all under the rug.
You might notice that 2001-2006 shows a lower rate of alcoholism than 1996. This was because I was able to pull myself together just enough that I no longer needed to lay in a fetal position in my car in the parking lot of the grocery store and work up the nerve to go in and buy milk and eggs because I was so hungover I felt like I was going to die. Because my hangovers got better during this time, I felt less alcoholic.
I should still note that I was about 50% too alcoholic to be a good mom and wife and employee. But 50% alcoholic was apparently bearable because I kept drinking until I peaked (hopefully, dear God) at 80% in 2011. Because yes, I could still get to 100% alcoholic if I kept at it, but I think all you get is cirrhosis and a loss of everything near and dear to you and I’m good right now, thanks.
Now, I know what you’re probably thinking because the above line graph shows an upward trend, when in actuality becoming more alcoholic is not really a good thing. But I’m going to keep it this way because the whole idea that an alcoholic can be halfway alcoholic is pretty ridiculous. It implies we can pull out and reverse our alcoholism so long as we don’t reach 100%. And if we could do that, we could still drink. And the very fact that we’re not drinking anymore tells you we cannot do this, though not for lack of trying.
Alcoholism is a progressive disease. It never gets better over time, only worse. I know this in and out, through and through. I wish I knew so well never to read anonymous comments on the internet.