This is an experience record that has been de-identified, risk-screened, and language-edited; no identifying details of the original author, location, or recognizable specifics are retained.
At first, I just wanted my mind to stop
I have had sleep disorders since childhood. I saw doctors and tried some methods, but the effects were negligible. After starting vocational college, on one chance occasion, I drank with my roommate, and discovered that after drinking I could fall asleep peacefully, without having to think about anything. That feeling fascinated me—not just the sleep, but also that light, floating ease after drinking.
So I became hooked on drinking. At first it was just Friday nights in the dorm, baijiu, 52 proof, and every time I drank until I had a hangover. Later, weekends were no longer enough, and I started drinking on weekday nights too. My roommates didn't say anything; we still went on living our lives laughing and joking together. By the time I graduated, my drinking habit had become fixed, a part of my life.
The days of going to work hungover, I thought I could hide it
After graduation, I went home and lay around for a while, drinking as usual at night. Later I found a job locally, and every day I went to work hungover. Before leaving the house, I brushed my teeth desperately, trying to get rid of the smell of alcohol on my breath, but it was useless. Sitting at my workstation, dazed and reeking of alcohol, there was no way my colleagues and supervisor didn't notice.
At first my family didn't pay much attention, but later they realized something was wrong. I had no choice but to take leave, and my family took me to the hospital. That was my first hospitalization, two weeks in the psychosomatic medicine department. When I was discharged, I genuinely believed I could quit, and I thought about going back to work properly.
But the reality was that as soon as I returned to the company, my boss persuaded me to leave. I had actually expected this, but it was my first job, and the blow of being let go was too much. I went for a walk alone, my mind full of a sense of failure, thinking, "Forget my troubles, one last indulgence," and went to buy alcohol. Once there was a first time, there were countless more. I returned to my old state, or even worse—drinking during the day, drinking again when I woke up hungover. At my worst, I bought several days' worth of alcohol, locked the door from the inside, and drank for four or five days without eating.
The hardest part was not knowing when the next time would happen
Sometimes I would think that if I kept going like this, my life would be completely ruined. So I started trying to quit drinking. But the withdrawal symptoms that followed were agonizing: I couldn't sleep all night, my heart raced, and my whole body trembled; the next day I would be drenched in sweat, my clothes soaked through even in winter. That misery drove me to pick up the bottle again.
My family didn't give up on me; they sent me to the hospital again. I stayed in open wards three times, and in the closed ward of the mental health center three times as well. Every time I came out, I relapsed. By then I already had severe alcoholic fatty liver disease, but the local psychiatrists' level was limited, and every round they asked questions that were superficial and didn't hit the mark. Among my relatives, I became a topic of idle conversation; they said I had "no willpower at all" and used me as a negative example to educate their own children.
But to be honest, I believe this has nothing to do with willpower—just like high blood pressure, can you just lower it at will? My family was desperate about me, but I was even more desperate about myself. Some people might think, why not just not give you money to buy alcohol? But at that point, there are always more ways than problems; you can come up with any method.
A different kind of hospitalization made me see alcohol anew
I had a relative working in Beijing who knew people at Beijing Anding Hospital. My family refused to give up on me and, still holding onto a glimmer of hope, sent me to Beijing for treatment. It was during the pandemic control period, and we had to pull strings to get me admitted.
In Beijing, my attending physician asked me to write down, in words, the impact alcohol dependence had brought me, and then analyzed it with me sentence by sentence. This approach began to change my perception of alcohol—not through scolding, but by seeing those impacts for myself. After a month of hospitalization, before discharge, the hospital gave me a notebook with encouraging words written in it. Those words gave me tremendous motivation.
Alcohol dependence had twisted me into that state, but my family and doctors never gave up on me. I thought, I shouldn't give up on myself either.
Starting over felt more solid than I imagined
After discharge, I didn't waste a moment and immediately started looking for work. Within a few days I found an ordinary job locally and started working normally. My finances gradually became independent, and my life gradually got back on track. During a remote follow-up, the doctor said my recovery had far exceeded expectations.
On December 24, 2024, the day I wrote this article, it had been two and a half years since I quit drinking. I have been working at that same company the whole time, without a single drop of alcohol. With my family's help, I bought an apartment and a car, though I haven't found a girlfriend yet.
In a person's life, there will always be a few enormous difficulties. The most difficult, most painful, most desperate road of my life, I have already walked to the end. Sometimes I still regret what I did back then, but life is short—better to let myself off the hook.
If you or a family member are going through a similar situation, you can look at these resources: How family can support, or learn about the treatment pathway.
Alcohol dependence is not a willpower problem, but change can begin with a new request for help.