Living with OCD - Part 2

In my previous post, Living with OCD, I defined in my own words what OCD is and how I used alcohol to inhibit the anxiety that the condition causes me. I would not recommend habitually using alcohol as a remedy, and ended my blog post with an account of how my drinking had spiralled out of control to such an extent that my doctor confirmed that I had raised liver enzymes, meaning I had damaged my liver! Nevertheless I continued drinking for another year, believing (correctly as it happens) that the liver's quite a durable organ that can regenerate itself, though I knew deep down that I needed to stop, and besides being dependent upon alcohol is a miserable existence.

My routine used to consist of waking up feeling tired and struggling to recall the events of the night before. If I'd been out of the flat and couldn't recall what had happened, I'd often become panicky, worrying that I'd done something anti-social, or even heinous! As the day would go on, and my body metabolised the residual alcohol in my bloodstream, my anxiety would actually increase. The mental effects of the hangover were sometimes debilitating, and caused me far more suffering than the physical complaints.

The alcohol made my work life difficult, as I imagine I was basically still pissed in the mornings. In addition to this, the increased anxiety I experienced made "the thoughts", as I call my intrusive thoughts, much worse and I found it difficult to concentrate on my job.

Another sad fact of life is that many people, a large enough minority at least, aren't very nice. Unfortunately predatory people could discern that I was in a vulnerable state, and often male colleagues - being naturally competitive, and perhaps insecure themselves - would often subtly try to humiliate me, usually disguising their intent as humour, but sometimes not even bothering to conceal it at all. I have never been a witty person, my mind often struggling to cope with "the thoughts" simultaneously, but it's very difficult when physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted by the effects of a hangover.

Fortunately I did find the resolve needed to kick my drinking habit, though it was only with the help of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). I would recommend AA to anybody who believes they have a drink problem, as one can find there people who have hit rock bottom and yet still overcome their addiction. I attended meetings in Glasgow's East End, and some people's tales left my hair standing on end and quite literally brought me to tears. It's forbidden to disclose what's discussed in those meetings, and I will not breach the confidence of those who've bravely told their stories to strangers whom they trusted with their most intimate details. But there was often a palpable sense of melancholy within the meeting hall, old people full of regrets, as well as the more harrowing stories about attempted suicides, murdered family members and those whose alcohol induced antics had estranged them from their family and friends.

I decided that I definitely didn't want to be one of those sixty year old men who'd suddenly sobered up and realised they'd wasted their lives or, more frighteningly, hurt those who'd they loved so badly that forgiveness was beyond all hope. I already have a series of regrets from my relatively modest fifteen years of heavy drinking, though I think my outrageous antics have mostly caused me reason to be embarrassed rather than feel guilty, fortunately!

I successfully managed to stop drinking, though it was extremely difficult at first. It was worth the effort though, and my period of absolute sobriety lasted nine months, during which I underwent a metamorphosis. For the first time in my adult life I felt fresh and invigorated mentally and physically, though I became strangely very emotional. Indeed I would sometimes cry from happiness and, this seems very clichéd and is an embarrassing admission, all the beauty in the world. I think in retrospect the alcohol had numbed my emotions, though it may be something physiological - as alcohol does affect the nervous system, I believe - beyond my comprehension. It felt like a gradual epiphany and led me to contemplate the true meaning of life, and religion, though  I didn't join an organised church, but that's another story for another day!

Now and again I do drink and, as has always been the case, I get drunk. I believe that I do have my habit under control though, mostly because the thought of returning to to a cycle of hangovers and inebriation terrifies me..

(to be continued...)