ConfessionsCaveMoth

9 Aug 4 min read

I Survived Alcoholism, But I’m Afraid I’m Slowly Going Back

I Survived Alcoholism, But I’m Afraid I’m Slowly Relapsing Anonymous For years, I told myself I had overcome alcohol. I used to drink heavily, as though my life depended on it. At some point, alcohol was no longer something I consumed for enjoyment. It became something I needed just to feel normal. It started innocently. "Just one bottle." "Let me take something to relax." "It's only weekends." Those were the lies I told myself. Before long, one bottle became two. Two became four. Then there were days when I could no longer accurately recall how much I had consumed. I was spending money meant for important responsibilities on alcohol. Money for food disappeared at drinking spots. Savings were depleted on bottles. Sometimes I would check my account balance the next morning and wonder, "What exactly did I spend this money on?" The worst part was not even the financial cost. It was the impact alcohol had on my health. I began experiencing various health issues. I was constantly fatigued. My stomach was frequently unsettled. There were mornings I woke up feeling as though my entire body had undergone intense physical strain. Hospital visits became frequent—tests, medications, consultations, and more tests. I spent money treating problems that, deep down, I knew I was contributing to. There were times I would leave the hospital with prescriptions worth thousands of naira, only to return to drinking a few days later. Looking back now, I often wonder how much I could have saved if I had listened to my body earlier. But alcoholism was not only taking my money. It was taking pieces of my life. I became distant from people who genuinely cared about me. I disappointed others. I made promises while sober and broke them while intoxicated. There are things I said and did under the influence that I still feel deep regret for. There were mornings I woke up unable to remember the previous night’s conversations. Sometimes I would check my phone and see messages I had sent and immediately regret them. I began avoiding certain people because I did not want them to reflect back the person I was becoming. At some point, I looked at myself and became afraid. "Is this really who I am becoming?" That question changed something in me. I decided to stop. It was not easy. People who have never struggled with addiction sometimes assume quitting is simply a matter of saying, "I will not drink again." If only it were that simple. The first days were difficult. The cravings came. The thoughts came. My mind would tell me, "Just one." I had to learn how to say no to myself. I stayed away from places where I knew I would be tempted. I reduced contact with certain drinking companions. I became more aware of the triggers that led to the urge. Gradually, things began to improve. I started feeling better. I began saving money again. I took my health more seriously. I could wake up without wondering what damage I had done the previous night. I began to believe that I had finally overcome it. I even started telling myself: "That chapter of my life is over." For a while, I believed it. But addiction is complex. You can make progress and still discover that the struggle is not entirely over. Recently, I started taking small sips again. At first, I told myself it was not really drinking. "Just a sip." "I am not going back to how I used to drink." "I know myself now." But deep down, another voice keeps asking a difficult question: "Are you sure?" And that is what scares me. Because I remember how it started the first time. It was also "just one." I do not want to go back. I do not want to spend money treating alcohol-related illnesses again. I do not want to disappoint people who believed I had changed. I do not want to become someone who relies on alcohol to sleep, relax, socialize, or escape problems. Most importantly, I do not want to lose myself again. But I am also learning something I wish more people understood about addiction: Recovery does not always mean the temptation disappears. Sometimes you can be doing well for years and still experience moments when old cravings return. The difference, perhaps, is recognizing the warning signs before you cross the line. I am sharing this anonymously because I am afraid, but I also do not want to pretend I am stronger than I am. I survived alcoholism once. I know I can fight it again. But this time, I do not want to wait until I am fully back in its grip before I seek help. If you are reading this and you have also struggled with alcohol addiction, please tell me honestly: How did you manage the cravings when they returned? Did you quit completely, or did you eventually learn to control your drinking? And if you have ever relapsed after believing you had recovered, what helped you find your way back? Perhaps someone reading this is currently fighting the same battle in silence.