The following is the story of an alcoholic who is suffering from “distorted reality disorder” (due to his drinking problem). He weaves a world of his own, and perceives people and circumstances in the way he sees and wants. The story revolves around how he meets a girl, falls in love with her, misinterprets the situation due to his state of mind and again finds solace in alcohol. The cycle, as the story progresses, becomes complete. Bottoms up!
I am an alcoholic. I know I am, and I am not afraid, or guilty, to admit it. Everybody looks for something or someone to cling on to…to lean on in times of need. I drink, and that helps me. People say it is “bad”, and that excess of it will make me addicted and wasted and dependent. But isn’t that true with everything, for everyone? I mean, if you look at your lover for support all the time, it just means that you too, in a way, are addicted to him/her. In a way, you too are dependent on him/her and you too, are wasted.
But I am not here to preach today. Today, I want to tell you a story. My story.
It isn’t right, you know, to ask an alcoholic just why he started drinking. He wouldn’t be able to tell you for sure. But ask him when, and more often than not, he’ll be able to tell you a vivid account (The why is hidden in the when, but he wouldn’t know this!). It’s because people don’t take to alcohol for a reason, but for a cause. For support. Solace. Comfort. For that one thing in Life that every person keeps hoping for from others, but doesn’t get. The cause to Live. The solution to Life.
I realized I wasn’t reaching home at night some four nights in a week, and when I did, more often than not, would have fallen somewhere and hurt myself before reaching home. I decided I had to reduce my drinking. What could I do? I wasn’t able to control myself…my work was going for a toss (yours truly writes for a living), I had stopped speaking to people, stopped routine things like shaving, TV, shopping—no I wasn’t unhappy, its just that I had started to love booze so much that I didn’t want to waste time doing anything else—so I decided to join AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) chapter in my city.
I had just started going to the jogger’s park for some jogging and free-hand exercises, etc. I had to do it as part of regimen we had decided upon at the AA. I wouldn’t have cared a bit for all this had my condition not deteriorated so much in the last couple of months. But, a la even a camel has to drink water sometimes, I too had to do this…. Hell, who would have even thought that I would wake up every day before sunrise, get ready and go for exercising! Till now, that was my time to go to bed!! Anyway…
I saw her coming from the opposite end as I was jogging through the park one day. She wasn’t a ravishing beauty, but one of those rare people endowed with a perfect blend of sharp facial features, shiny hair, toned figure and a confident body language. One who would make you lower down your pace so that you can admire her beauty a little longer…
She noticed me almost as soon as I did, but for some different reasons I guess. I had absolutely no stamina, and used to huff and puff almost as soon as I started running. By the end of the first round, I’d look as if I have just been saved from drowning! As we came closer, I somehow tripped. She helped me get up and we got talking a bit. I lied to her that I had some medical problem some time ago and so was trying to “get back into shape”. She was a consultant at one of the big firms in the city. I guess I must have made a decent show of myself, for we decided to meet up again the next day.
I felt motivated to go to the park now. Everyday, I’d wait for sunrise, so that I could meet her. We couldn’t meet at any other time, as she had erratic working hours. I appreciated her commitment, and drew inspiration from it. Now I didn’t drink the whole day. I mean I did, but not in the way I used to. Now I drank in small quantities. I drank for and because of happiness. As they say, it kept me in ‘good spirits’. I started feeling I was in better control of my life (read: drinking).
We were coming closer. In some days only, we had become good friends. We had even started meeting outside sometimes. I was happy to find that she too loved a good drink. She didn’t have too much capacity, but she knew when to control herself. Day by day, my admiration for her was increasing. I used to look for ways to impress her. I started shaving regularly, kept myself abreast of the current events, had resumed my work as a writer, and tried to keep myself ‘tip-top’ in general. Not that I had too much to show for myself, but we writers have the ability and knack to create reality out of fantasy in a moment.
By now, she had found out that I drink too much. But she didn’t know about my AA meetings. However, it didn’t seem to bother her much. And that’s what I liked most about her. She believed in giving space. No preaching, no nagging. Moreover, she used to give me some cues of her interest in me. Like, that one time, when she called in the middle of the night to check that I wasn’t drinking myself to oblivion. Another time she brought a bottle of champagne to celebrate our six-month old friendship. Or, consider the time when she brought movie tickets for us, but readily agreed to stay at home when I said I wanted to spend some time alone with her, away from people. She could read me completely.
We had started meeting more frequently. I felt I was getting used to her. I longed to be with her always, wanted to tell her about every moment of my life. I had never met anyone like her before…never felt like this. There were times I didn’t even know what I wanted to talk, but I just had to be with her. And when I couldn’t, I drank. In a very paradoxical manner, she was driving me away from, and at the same time, pushing me towards, my only love before her. Yes, I loved her.
I decided to tell her. But how could I? After all, I wasn’t settled in my career. Writing is not always a very rewarding profession. On top of it, practically speaking, I didn’t know where I wanted to go in life. But, I convinced myself, she was not somebody who’d be bothered by all this. After all, if it’s a question of money, well, her salary was good enough to support us both. And of late, she had even started showing that it was alright for me to spend her money. She didn’t seem to mind, and didn’t let me spend my money. Moreover, Life is not only about working and money. It’s about Love, something that we could create between ourselves.
I reasoned I wasn’t hallucinating. I am a practical man and see both sides of the coin before tossing it. I reflected that she too is in love with me, but is shy to admit it. Otherwise, what can explain her frequent visits to my place? What can explain her readiness to go out with me anytime I said so? What could explain the ease with which she stayed at my place for hours on weekends? What could explain the right with which she brought order in my house? Certainly, it had to be more than just a passing interest or platonic friendship…So I decided to tell her.
I had it all set that evening—the lighting, décor, soft music, her favorite food, elegant crockery, the works. I had even written a few lines for her (she really appreciated my profession, she said so). I could tell from the sparkle in her eyes that she was very surprised with all the arrangements. “What’s the special occasion?” she asked, still looking around. I smiled and recited a small poem I had written about her and on (I thought) creating the right moment, popped the question.
The next few minutes were completely unbelievable. I couldn’t quite comprehend what Andie was saying…not only that, I couldn’t understand why…how…she could say something like that. “What?! Marriage?!! Are you out of your mind? What made you think I would do something like that?” “But Andie! I thought you liked me…”
“I do…as a person. But that does not mean I love you.” I felt as if a boulder was thrown over my chest. It was getting difficult to breathe. So I poured a quick drink for myself. “See what I was saying Robert? You can’t even spend a couple of hours without a drink. How will you take the responsibility of a family? You have no focus in life, no ambition. I mean, it’s your life and you have the right to live it the way you want, but you shouldn’t expect me to do the same”, she said.
Her voice seemed so cold. “But Andie…Andie…you make me complete. You take such good care of me. You understand me so well…”
“Woah! Hold on Robert…it’s nothing that. I take care of you because you can’t do it yourself. I knew you had a drinking problem the day I met you. Why, you were stinking of alcohol at that time too! You came across as a nice guy, and so I wanted to help you out.
I am part of the AA Mumbai chapter committee. I checked with them a few days back as to how we can help you, but found out that you were already a member. Your case file says you have a critical drinking problem. That’s why I used to check even in the middle of the night. I didn’t confront you as I thought you might be uncomfortable discussing it. One of the ways to cure an alcoholic is compassion therapy. So I ignored the times when you would be staring at me, and tried to be your friend. Listen, I was concerned about you as a person, okay? I tried to be your friend. I don’t know when or why you thought this could even be possible!...”
I could feel rage inside me. This woman was obviously lying. She wanted to use me for some purpose. But now she thinks she doesn’t need me anymore. That’s why she is trying to severe all ties. But how can I let her go? I was desperate for her. I have given so much to this relationship. “I know you are saying all this because of some motive Andie, though I can’t understand what. Doesn’t matter. Listen to me Andie. Leave all this behind. I’ll start working again. We’ll start a new life…together. I know you long for me, but your job is coming in our way. Leave it…” I smiled. I knew I was saying the right thing. Now I understood the reason behind her reaction. So I poured myself a large drink. I felt better now.
“Robert! Shut up!” she shouted. Then, suddenly, she stopped and took a few deep breaths. She seemed calmer now. Her voice was also soothing. “Listen Robert, listen to me carefully. You have a very bad drinking problem. The doctors at AA have diagnosed you with having a problem of ‘distorted reality’. It means that you perceive things the way you want it. You want a certain situation to happen in your life at a sub-conscious level. So, at a conscious level, you convince yourself that it is what is actually happening…”
“You mean to say I am mad!?” I sneered.
“No…I am only saying that it is a distorted perception of the events around you. And before you ask, it is not even schizophrenia. It’s not a disease, or a symptom. It’s just that your constant drinking keeps your mind in a constant state of dizziness…”
“It stimulates my thinking…I am a creative man”, I protested. I couldn’t quite grasp what all she was saying. It wasn’t making any sense at all. She was just trying to prove that I was mad, so that she doesn’t have to marry me. What a woman! I thought to myself. First, she befriends me for some reason, then gives me enough cues to make me fall in love with her, and is now telling me that I am not living in reality!
“…this is why you sometimes have a problem understanding the people around you. Look around you, Robert; you have lost all your friends too. I am concerned about you and that’s why…”
“Enough!” I shouted. “If you don’t want to marry me, it’s fine! But I will not have anyone telling me that I am living in a fantasy world. I know what the reality is. I know I am an alcoholic, and I am fine with it. I don’t want to leave my drink. I joined AA just because I thought I might be slipping away a bit. I have brought that under control. I don’t need it anymore. I love my drink…and I love it more than I love you. Go away…I don’t need you no more”
“Robert…” she tried to say something.
“Just go!” I shouted, throwing the glass on the floor. I could see that she was frightened. Somehow, I liked it.
She got up and went away. Suddenly, the room became very quiet. I could now hear the music. Soft, romantic music. I felt very lonely…and thirsty too. So I poured myself another drink and switched on the television.
I kept drinking the whole night. Well, who needs her anyways…its no use spending time with a person who thinks you are a lunatic. And I don’t despise her either. Every person has his/her criteria of a partner, I told myself. I was happy at this “understanding” behavior of myself. “That’s being rational, see! Who says I can’t understand reality?”
…and such is my story. I am an alcoholic. I know I am, and I am not afraid, or guilty, to admit it. I cannot leave it either. I know that if I do, I’ll die. But I have realized one thing in life—the cause of, and solution to, all my life’s problems is alcohol.
