This is an experience record that has been de-identified, risk-screened, and language-edited; no identifying information about the original author, geographic location, or recognizable details is retained in the text.
At first, he just drank some sweet wine
Many years ago, I noticed that he would occasionally drink a little. Back then, what he drank was mostly rice wine or sweet grape wine—sweet, like a beverage. I thought he was just trying something new, or going along with the crowd at social engagements. The family didn't take it too seriously either—after all, who hasn't had a drink now and then?
But slowly, things changed. He began to be unsatisfied with those sweet wines and switched to baijiu (Chinese white liquor). At first it was a few sips, then it became half a small glass, and later, he could finish more than half a bottle over the course of a meal. I asked him why he drank so much, and he said: "At first the liquor tasted bad, but after drinking more I got used to it, and even came to like the taste a little." I didn't think much of it at the time—I just figured he was under a lot of work pressure.
Only later did I understand that behind that "getting used to it" lay something deeper.
It's not about the taste—it's the brain changing
Once, I happened to read some research on alcohol addiction. It mentioned that the reason alcohol is addictive is not its taste, but that after it enters the brain, it affects a substance called dopamine. Dopamine is the brain's "reward signal" that makes people feel pleasure. Alcohol can stimulate the brain to release more dopamine, producing a sense of euphoria.
The research also mentioned an experiment: when mice were given alcohol mixed with sugar, they would drink it voluntarily; but after the sugar was gradually removed, if they still drank, that was true addiction. Even more striking, even when the alcohol was made very bitter, addicted mice still drank it, and were even willing to endure electric shocks to get it. This reminded me of him—by the later stage, he wasn't drinking for the taste anymore; it was that not drinking made him miserable. And that misery wasn't something willpower could overcome.
I realized that this wasn't "he's a heavy drinker" or "he has no self-discipline," but that his brain had already changed. It was alcohol's pharmacological effects, not its taste, that were the fundamental reason he couldn't stay away from it.
The hardest part is not knowing when the next episode will happen
His drinking problem wasn't the kind where he got drunk every day—it was intermittent. Sometimes he could control it and go several days without touching alcohol, and I thought things were improving. But suddenly, one day, he would start drinking again, and in larger amounts than before. That unpredictability kept the whole family on edge.
Once, after drinking, he showed dangerous signs that required immediate help, such as confusion and rapid breathing. We rushed him to the hospital. The doctor told me this was alcohol withdrawal syndrome, meaning his body had already developed a dependence on alcohol. That was when I learned that suddenly stopping after long-term drinking can cause serious problems in the body.
The atmosphere at home became very tense. I tried to persuade him to quit drinking, but every time he said "next time, for sure." Yet the next time always came without warning. I even doubted myself: was it because I wasn't good enough that he turned out this way? But later I understood that this was nobody's fault—it was the physiological mechanism of alcohol addiction at work.
What family members can do is understand, not blame
After going through those repeated cycles, I began to change my approach. I stopped accusing him and instead tried to understand what he was feeling. Once, when he was sober after drinking, he told me: "I know drinking is bad, but that urge to drink—it's like someone flipped a switch in my brain, and I can't control it." I felt terrible hearing that, but I also finally understood: he wasn't deliberately trying to hurt himself or the family.
I looked up a lot of information and learned that alcohol addiction involves multiple regions of the brain, such as the ventral tegmental area and the nucleus accumbens. Alcohol suppresses inhibitory neurons in the brain, causing dopamine neurons to become overactive and release more dopamine. This mechanism varies from person to person, but once it forms, it is very hard to reverse. I understood his situation, and I also learned that what family members can do is not force him to quit, but walk the right path with him.
We began seeking professional help, such as contacting family support resources and learning how to cope with his drinking problem. I also learned what to do when he showed dangerous signs—how to seek help. Although the process has been long, at least we are no longer facing it alone.
Alcohol tastes bad, but he can't stay away from it—this is nobody's fault
Looking back now, that period taught me that alcohol addiction is not a moral issue but a physiological one. Many people start drinking simply because of the sweet taste or social needs, but alcohol's pharmacological effects gradually change the brain, turning "liking to drink" into "having to drink." This process is not something willpower can easily reverse.
I am writing this down to tell those families going through similar experiences: you are not alone. The impact of drinking problems on individuals and families goes both ways, but understanding the mechanisms behind it is more useful than blaming. If you or a family member are facing a similar predicament, why not start by learning about it, and step by step find a coping approach that works for you.
Alcohol addiction is not a matter of willpower—it is the result of physiological changes in the brain.