But.

I've never had a blackout. Never had a DUI. Never went to work drunk. Never drank during the day. 

I've never had the shakes. Never damaged my liver. Never fell down. Never embarrassed myself in public. 

But. 

I delay dinner until I've had just the "right" amount of alcohol. I get angry if you interfere with this very delicate, very private process. I will pick fights with you if you say the wrong thing (or sometimes, if you say anything). I will let both of us go to bed angry. I don't care because I am already passed out. 

I will be kind and patient at night if my children wake and I am drunk. But the next day I will yell at them for not putting on their shoes, for wanting their mother to be close to them, to help them get dressed so I will hug them, kiss them. This will make me irritable. 

I wake in a depression. I wake with guilt, shame. I tell myself that that's it; no more. But it's suddenly eleven o'clock in the morning and the thought of that first nighttime drink pops into my head. And I know that I will do it again. 

I switch from Gin (crazy-making) to Vodka to Bourbon. Then to red wine (but it's so good for you!). I drink a whole bottle on more than one occasion. I try hard cider, but who am I kidding? I drink to get drunk. One drink of anything isn't going to do it, and once I start it's not like I can stop at one. 

But.

I stopped drinking on October 19th.