This is how I’ve looked at it, too. “My drinking days are over.” I don’t even have to paint it as a sob story to anyone. If I’m at a bar with friends it’s just “yeah I don’t do that anymore” and we just move on. Easy peasy
Naltrexone works for a lot of people, so good on you for getting it and I'm glad it's doing its job. The best advice I can give you is that there is a life after you retire from drinking. It can feel empty and pointless, but that's because now you aren't drunk all the time to cover it up. Try to occupy your time with your hobbies or find new ones if the old ones aren't fun anymore. It can be daunting to have so much free time back but it's best to embrace it.
I know the feeling buddy. All of my friends were essentially glorified drinking buddies. It does get easier.
I did an astronomical amount of woodworking the first two months after quitting. It was awesome. That was sort of a beginner’s high though and eventually it settled down. I still get bored now but way less so in the years past when I tried to quit drinking and only thought about drinking whenever I was bored
Ah, the good ol' Ativan drip.
2 months sober! Cheers!
I had a boyfriend who drank Svedka straight from the bottle and went through about half a liter a day. One day he was doubled over in agony and finally agreed to let me drive him to the ED. When we got there the doctor told him he had alcoholic pancreatitis, and the next thing he said is seared into my memory: "If you keep drinking, you're not gonna live much longer." When I got home I poured out the rest of what he had.
Why didn't he go to a detox if he had DTs?
He needed an inpatient detox. He's lucky he didn't go into status epilepticus and die.
I've never had much success cutting myself off. By the time I'm there I'm already past being able to make that decision.
My problem is I can cut myself off, so I get cocky, think I've got my drinking under control, I'm not an alcoholic, I'm a gentleman. Then I start drinking like an animal because I think I can control it and I'm back to shaking like a fucking leaf, emptying every last drop from every last empty in the house into a glass in the hopes that'll be enough to stop the anxiety, sweating bullets, and waiting for the liquor store to open first thing in the morning.
I fucking hate how accurate this was.
Don't get me started on all the ways I'd hide empties from my wife.
One of the most humiliating things that I’m glad is long gone. Used to put them in my hamper, buried under clothes. Among other places
I'm half-convinced my collection of guitar amps wasn't just standard Gear Acquisition Syndrome, but because the back of them made for a good place to hide bottles my ex wouldn't be likely to stumble across
I knew a guy who had drop ceiling in his basement and chucked his shit up there for years.