This is a record of personal experience that has been de-identified, risk-screened, and language-polished; the original author's identity, location, or identifiable details are not retained in this article.
At first, I thought it was just stress relief
Five years ago, because of high work pressure, I started drinking occasionally. At first it was just one glass at night, and I felt it helped me relax. Gradually, one glass became two, and two became half a bottle. I told myself it was no big deal—lots of people drink.
But my family began to notice changes. My wife said I came home later and later and spoke with more and more impatience. My child also avoided me, saying I always smelled of alcohol. I didn't take it seriously at the time and thought they were making a mountain out of a molehill. Looking back now, that was already the first warning sign.
My body gave out first
After long-term drinking, my body started raising the alarm. In the morning my hands would tremble, and I couldn't steady them without a drink. My appetite got worse and worse; I often felt nauseous and had stomach pain. When I went to the hospital for a checkup, the doctor said my liver function indicators were already abnormal and also warned me to watch out for cardiovascular problems.
By then I couldn't stop. It wasn't that I didn't want to—it was that my body seemed unable to function without alcohol. If I didn't drink, I'd feel anxious, sweat, and be unable to sleep. After drinking, following the brief comfort came deeper exhaustion and self-blame.
The hardest part was not knowing when the next time would happen
My emotions became very unstable. Sometimes after drinking, I would suddenly lose my temper, throw things, and curse at people. When I sobered up, I would regret it, apologize to my family, and swear I would never drink again. But a few days later, I couldn't resist picking up the bottle again.
My wife said what she feared most wasn't my being drunk, but not knowing when I would get drunk. Every time I went out, she was on edge. My child also became quiet and stopped talking to me. The atmosphere at home grew more and more oppressive, like a balloon that could burst at any moment.
Family relationships cracked apart bit by bit
What hurt me most was losing some important relationships. Old good friends gradually drifted away from me because I was always breaking promises or saying the wrong thing when drunk. Trust among family members also disappeared; my wife started going through my bags and checking my phone, afraid I was hiding alcohol.
Once, after drinking too much, I fell asleep in the living room. When I woke up, I found my wife sitting beside me crying. She said she didn't know how much longer this family could hold on. At that moment, I realized that alcohol had destroyed not only my body but also everything I should have cherished.
The moment I woke up
What truly made me make up my mind was a dangerous warning sign that appeared after drinking. That day I drank more than usual and suddenly felt chest tightness, couldn't catch my breath, and my consciousness became blurred. My family was terrified and rushed me to the hospital in the middle of the night. The doctor said that if I kept going like this, the consequences would be very serious.
Lying on the hospital bed, looking at my wife's haggard face, I suddenly understood: I couldn't go on like this anymore. Not for myself, but for the people who still cared about me.
The road to quitting was harder than I imagined
The withdrawal process did not go smoothly. In the first few days, my whole body ached, I couldn't sit still, and my mind was filled with alcohol. My family stayed with me, taking turns watching me, afraid I would secretly go buy alcohol. During that time, I wanted to give up countless times, but thinking of my family's eyes, I gritted my teeth and kept going.
Later, I gradually could sleep through the night, my hands stopped trembling, and my appetite recovered. Most importantly, I began to be able to communicate normally with my family. My child was willing to sit next to me doing homework, and my wife no longer avoided me. These small things—I never cared about them before, but now they feel immeasurably precious.
Now, I cherish every day more
Today, I have been sober for a period of time. Life has slowly returned to normal, but I know this is only the beginning. Alcohol dependence doesn't form in a day, and recovery also takes time.
I want to tell those who have had similar experiences to mine: alcohol is not a cure; it is only a trap. It will slowly steal your health, your family, and your life. But as long as you are willing to stop, there is still a chance.
If you or your family members are going through something similar, why not look at the eyes of the people around you. They may have been waiting for a long time, just waiting for you to take that step.
Learn how family members can help people who drink | More real stories of quitting alcohol
Alcohol dependence is not just one person's problem; the suffering of family members also needs to be seen.