This is a record of personal experience that has been de-identified, risk-screened, and linguistically organized; the original author's identity, geographic location, or identifiable details are not retained in the text.
I Always Thought He Just Liked to Drink
The day my younger brother passed away, I pushed open the door to his room, and everything was just as usual. On the nightstand sat half a bottle of red wine, and the curtains were drawn tightly. He was curled up under the blanket, and I thought he was still asleep. It wasn't until I got closer that I realized he had stopped breathing.
Later, while sorting through his belongings, I found more than a dozen empty liquor bottles under his bed—some hidden in suitcases, others tucked into piles of old clothes. In that moment, I realized that what he had been hiding wasn't just alcohol, but also all the pain we had failed to see over the years.
Everyone in the family knew about my brother's drinking. He always said he "just liked a drink or two," and we believed him. During holidays and celebrations, he drank more than anyone else, and we assumed it was out of joy. He drank every day after work, and we thought it was to unwind. Sometimes in the morning, his hands shook so badly he could barely hold a cup steady, and we chalked it up to lack of rest.
Looking back now, those signs were always there—we just didn't recognize them.
Withdrawal Is Not Simply "Feeling Bad Without a Drink"
My brother once tried to quit drinking. One time he said, "I'm not drinking this week," but the very next morning, he broke out in cold sweats, his hands shook violently, and he was restless and agitated. He locked himself in his room and wouldn't let us in. My mom thought he had a cold and made him ginger soup. After drinking it, he felt even worse and said his heart was pounding so fast it felt like it would burst out of his chest.
Back then, we didn't know this was alcohol withdrawal syndrome. When drinking stops or is reduced, the body goes through a series of physical and psychological discomforts: tremors, anxiety, elevated body temperature, and palpitations. In severe cases, hallucinations and delusions can also occur.
That time, my brother only lasted two days of sobriety. On the third night, I got up to get water and saw him crouching in the corner of the kitchen, secretly taking a small sip of baijiu. He saw me, froze for a moment, then smiled and said, "Just one sip, to calm my nerves." I didn't say anything at the time, thinking he just lacked willpower.
Later, I came to understand that it wasn't a matter of willpower. Alcohol dependence is a disease—the body has developed a physical dependence on alcohol. When drinking stops abruptly, the body sends out intense signals that are unbearable. This is not a choice between "wanting to drink" or "not wanting to drink."
The Day He Drank Huoxiang Zhengqi Water to Curb His Cravings, I Should Have Been Alert
For a period of time, my brother started drinking Huoxiang Zhengqi water. He told me his "stomach felt uncomfortable" and drank several bottles a day. I thought it was odd at the time, but I didn't think much of it. It wasn't until one day, when I saw several empty bottles in the trash, that I realized he was using the alcohol content in it to relieve his craving for liquor.
He also hid many small bottles of red wine around the house—behind the bookshelf, on top of the wardrobe. He would sneak a few sips when no one was paying attention. He became very vigilant, always watching to see if we had noticed. At the time, I thought he was "drinking behind the family's back," and I saw him as dishonest and irresponsible. Now I know that was a manifestation of his inability to control his drinking behavior.
One of the diagnostic criteria for alcohol dependence is: the drinker develops a strong craving and preference for alcohol and is unable to control their drinking behavior. That was my brother. It wasn't that he didn't want to stop—he couldn't stop. He wanted to break free more than anyone, but he just couldn't.
The Hardest Part Was Not Knowing When It Would Happen Next
After my brother passed away, I kept thinking—if we had recognized it as alcohol dependence sooner, would the outcome have been different? But the reality is, we had no idea it was a disease. We thought he "just liked drinking," thought he "could quit if he wanted to," thought "he'd naturally stop once he'd had enough."
Alcohol dependence is not just one person's problem. It affects the entire family. When my brother was alive, we were always on edge. When he drank too much, he would become depressed, lock himself away, and sit in a daze for long stretches. We never knew when he would drink, how much he would drink, or what would happen afterward. That uncertainty was like a taut string, ready to snap at any moment.
He once said something I still remember: "Alcohol is like a barrier that protects me from outside stimulation, but it also keeps people outside the barrier from receiving my distress signals." He had been calling for help all along—we just had the wrong receiver.
Physical Withdrawal Can Be Quick, but Psychological Dependence Is the Real Test
My brother was once hospitalized for a depressive episode. During that stay, the doctors discovered he had an alcohol dependence problem. The treatment plan was to address the alcohol withdrawal first, then deal with other issues. The withdrawal symptoms passed in about a week, with no significant physical discomfort. But the doctors and nurses were very cautious—he stayed in the intensive care unit for nearly a week before being transferred to a regular ward.
My brother later told me that physical withdrawal wasn't actually that hard—as long as there was medical supervision, the physical discomfort could be managed. What was truly difficult was the psychological dependence. Less than two months after quitting, he still missed the days when alcohol was by his side. He said, "Alcohol is the most loyal thing—it always stays with me in the gentlest way."
That sentence broke my heart. For him, alcohol wasn't a beverage—it was companionship, comfort, and a way to escape reality. What he needed wasn't to be blamed, but to be understood and seen.
If There's Someone in Your Family Who "Just Likes to Drink"
After my brother passed away, I researched a lot about alcohol dependence. I learned that alcohol dependence syndrome has clear diagnostic criteria: drinking for a long duration, at high frequency, and in large quantities; inability to control oneself; experiencing withdrawal symptoms; drinking becoming the most important thing in life; and continuing to drink despite knowing it's harmful. My brother met almost all of these criteria.
If there's someone in your family who "just likes to drink," please stop thinking it's merely "enjoying alcohol" or "lacking willpower." Please observe whether they have withdrawal symptoms, whether they drink secretly, or whether they use other alcohol-containing products as substitutes. Please take these signs seriously.
Alcohol dependence is a disease, not a moral failing. It needs to be recognized, confronted, and treated. Don't wait until you're like me—sorting through a loved one's belongings, only to discover the hidden bottles and the cries for help that were never voiced in time.
If you're feeling confused or helpless about a family member's drinking problem, you can look at these resources: Ways for Family Members to Provide Support, Safety Guidelines for Withdrawal Symptoms.
Alcohol dependence is not "liking to drink"—it is a disease that needs to be seen.