This is an experience record that has been de-identified, risk-screened, and language-edited; no identifying details about the original author, location, or recognizable specifics are retained.
At first, I thought it was just "unwinding"
Looking back, my initial reason for drinking was simple: after a long day at work, a small drink felt like it relieved fatigue and refreshed my mind. Back then, I firmly believed in the saying that "moderate drinking is good for health," and I only ever had one small glass, never more. To me, alcohol was more of a pastime than a necessity.
But at some point, that drink began to change. Food could be casual, but alcohol could not be skipped. Meals without a drink felt bland and unsatisfying, and something in my body just felt off. I slowly realized I had started to "crave" the glass—as soon as I sat down at the table, I had to drink. It felt like being apart for a day felt like three years. If I couldn't drink, an indescribable restlessness and anguish would well up inside me.
At first, I reassured myself: this is just a habit, not dependence. But the changes that followed made it impossible to keep fooling myself.
The hardest part: my tolerance kept growing, yet I lost more and more control
The most obvious signal was my tolerance. I used to blush after two liang of liquor, but gradually that became three liang, half a jin, or even more. Before every drinking session, I told myself, "Just one drink today," but once I picked up the glass, I couldn't stop—one after another, far beyond what I intended. I found myself drinking more and more, as if only large amounts could satisfy me.
Another change that alarmed me was "sneaking drinks." Every time I went out, I promised my family: "No drinking at meals, no driving after drinking." But when someone was watching, I behaved perfectly; the moment I was out of sight, I would secretly pull out the liquor I had stored for years and drink alone behind my family's back. It felt like being a thief, but at the time I told myself, "I just don't want to worry anyone."
What scared me even more was that I began looking for alcohol at any time and in any place. A normal person wakes up in the morning and reaches for water; my first instinct was to reach for alcohol. The same thought hit me when I woke up at night. Only then did I realize I had fallen into some kind of out-of-control cycle.
My body's warning signs: shaking hands, nausea, mental changes
The body is the most honest. If I went a day or two without drinking, I would start experiencing digestive symptoms like loss of appetite, nausea, and vomiting. The most obvious was muscle tremor in my hands and face—when I picked things up, my hands shook like in Parkinson's disease, completely uncontrollable. At that point, I had actually already developed alcohol poisoning, but I didn't know it and thought I just hadn't rested well.
The mental changes were even more confusing. I used to be an outgoing person, but slowly I became withdrawn, depressed, and even irritable and quick to anger. Sometimes the smallest thing would set me off, and my emotions swung like a roller coaster. Later I understood that this was a sign of brain cell damage from excessive alcohol intake. When mental changes appear, it means alcohol dependence has become very severe, and alcohol poisoning has already affected the brain.
When I went to the hospital for a liver function test, the results sent a chill down my spine: elevated transaminases, and pain and tenderness in the liver area. The doctor told me that if I kept going like this, it could develop into alcoholic liver disease, or even become life-threatening. Fortunately, alcoholic liver disease is preventable—as long as I quit drinking in time and actively address the issue, I could change the situation. But the prerequisite was that I had to face the problem head-on.
Seeking help again: starting with admitting "I might have a problem"
What truly drove me to seek help was not the physical pain, but the helplessness of "not knowing when the next episode would happen." After every drinking session, I swore "this is the last time," but the next day I would relapse. I realized I could no longer control this on my own.
I began actively learning about alcohol dependence and tried talking to my family. At first, they didn't understand and thought, "He just likes drinking." But when I told them how I really felt—the cycle of feeling awful without a drink and regretting it after—they started taking it seriously.
I didn't quit all at once; instead, I started by lowering the alcohol concentration: switching from high-proof liquor to lower-proof liquor, and then to red wine. At the same time, I adjusted my eating habits and stopped eating heavy fried foods, because those always made me want to "pair them with a drink." The process wasn't easy, but every step made me feel a little further from losing control.
If you or a family member is going through something similar—growing tolerance, reaching for alcohol in the morning, shaking hands, nausea, sneaking drinks—please don't dismiss it as "just a small matter." Alcohol dependence doesn't happen suddenly; it builds up step by step, starting from "a little drink for pleasure." The key is whether you're willing to recognize these signals early and take the first step toward seeking help.
I'm still on the journey, but at least I'm no longer pretending that "everything is fine."
Alcohol dependence doesn't happen suddenly; it builds up gradually from "daily moderate drinking," and the key is recognizing the signals early.