DRY DRUNK

DryDrunk

A dry drunk is a person who has quit drinking usually after being confronted by family, friends and possibly employer. This intervention is presented as a caring action by those who are close to the person who are concerned about the alcoholic’s harmful behaviors. The group’s insistence that the drinking must stop immediately often leaves the addict with the impression that there is little choice. 

The description “little choice” should ring alert bells––simmering resentment. Fault finding and angry outbursts still fire out at those close to the drinker. The family’s impression is little progress has been made, but the drinker now says that he or she is trying. What more do you want? A new hell exists. The addict still wants to drink but can’t; the family endures continual abuse without the option of questioning the disturbing behaviors.  What can be done?

This is Jill’s situation in my novel Baggage burdens. While she is not an alcoholic, she is the daughter of one, the adolescent daughter who had to run away from home to protect herself. In her, resentment simmers. Now it’s aimed at those who show similar traits as her father. That means men, particularly if they have a beard, smoke, and or drink alcohol, are suspect. 

A suspect’s indiscretion can’t be seen as an honest mistake coming from a logical reason. They are seen as untrustworthy, someone to be feared and if possible avoided. Her actions, like those of a dry drunk, leave her in undesirable situations. Those close to her are often hurt. What can be done?

The answer for both is seemingly impossible––admit that you are not in control.  The need to trust others must come freely from the dry drunk, the first step in recovery. This Jill does. It is not with her husband or her employer who she is close to, but with one who she suspects betrayed her. What a courageous, or was it a desperate move? 

  

A peek into Jill’s life 

“Well, tell me, how do those two fellows stack up—you know, Joseph and Ben?” Mary can’t wait for Jill’s assessment.

 “As for Ben, well, he’s a lot of fun to be with. He’s easygoing and kind. He comes with a wonderful extended family. I really like that.” 

Mary smiles, as Jill expects she would. Jill reflects her employer’s response. Do I tell her my real concern about Ben?

From overhearing other customers’ conversations, Jill knows that Ben consumes alcohol when he isn’t in her presence. The stories indicate Ben drinks responsibly. Still, Jill remembers how her father’s early responsible social drinking fooled her mother. I don’t intend to make the same mistake. At least Joseph doesn’t drink.

After Jill’s Marriage

“I just have to ask you, how’s Ben?” asks Jill. 

“Okay now. You know his mother kept pushing Ben to propose to you, but he didn’t. I heard later she really lectured Ben; said he deserved to lose you; argued he took you for granted.”

“Ow! What did Ben say?”

“Just that that was the arrangement you two wanted.” 

“Ben was right. At the time, that’s all I wanted.” 

“When Ann called him a fool, he left, slamming the door. That’s when he began a two-day drinking binge.”

He was susceptible to getting drunk. I always thought so. Like my father. 

“Is he all right now?”

“Last I heard he’s sober.”

Haiku capsule:

Forced change breeds distrust.

Results are blame and anger

A dry drunk’s torment

Next Blog: 

A Biting Reality