It's been a while since I've commented, but I haven't missed a piece. There's no better read on substack.
As an previous alcoholic and cocaine addict, I thoroughly enjoyed this, after originally thinking I may not. A $600-a-day habit, losing my business, and pulling every piece of structure in my life to the ground, I guess I can "proudly" claim those titles. Sobriety, for me, is the only way to have any life, and that's fine. But that's for each individual to decide on their own.
For most of these "influencers", their search for some sense of meaning and purpose knows no bounds. They grossly embellish anything that may be "content worthy". Thankfully, it is those that influence very little - as those that truly know can see through their hollow little souls.
I have an alcoholic aunt, who is riotously funny and has no fucks left to give. She's half Irish and absolutely inherited both the celtic love of fine spirits and the humour. She refused a heart operation because she'd have to give up brandy. My cousins despair of her but she's pushing 80 and still with us.
I also had an alcoholic uncle. My cousins ceased having their mates overnight when he rolled home in the small hours and pissed in the corner of the living room where one of them was sleeping. He also got caught drink driving and, no word of a lie, his defence in court was "I've been drinking and driving for 30 years and never had an accident". He passed away in 2018 aged 85.
The worst influencers are the menopause influencers. St Davina of Fuck All is the leader of this pack of charlatans and frauds. Usually impossibly wealthy, with personal trainers, and chefs, Harley St doctors on speed dial, glowing skin and size 6 bodies they espouse the "miracle" that is hrt, a carb, alcohol and sugar free diet, seeming to subdist on nuts and herbs. I've yet to meet a single woman on hrt who isn't a grumpy, bloated, angry mess. In contrast, I can't take hrt. I'm doing meno using supplements, diet and exercise. I reckon I've found a combination that suits me - I get asked by men and women 20 years younger how to get skin as good as mine. I feel entirely myself. And I haven't paid Davina bloody McCall a penny 🤣😂
One of the many scourges of our current culture is the faux virtue of faux suffering, which falls in line with that most popular of non-contact sports of virtual signaling. All signal, no virtue.
"As Scott Russell Sanders puts it, children of alcoholics develop an uncanny ability to read faces and uncover motives hidden behind words."
As do real drunks. Having a couple of bad drinking experiences doesn't make you a drunk.
Drinking every night until you pass out, hiding bottles of scotch in the workshop so you're not getting nagged by your wife by going back and forth to the 'fridge for more beer...getting closer!😂
Normies appropriating dysfunction is even creeping into the substance abuse realm, apparently...🤣
Ah, me the life of the alcoholic's progeny is not easy. I should know. My mother's idea of breakfast was vodka with a tablespoon of grapefruit juice. When she had had enough, she passed out along with what I thought was astonishingly convenient amnesia of whatever she had or hadn't said or done the night before/the day before/five minutes earlier. But her wit was second to none. Well I remember, back in '69, her loud Declaration under the influence of Godknowshowmany bottles of booze, that she didn't "understand how some fat little junkie became a national heroine". She was, of course, referring to Janis Joplin.
What I really can't stand is heavy drinkers appropriating the well earned title of alcoholic. To be a real alcoholic one must not necessarily have drink one's way into prison, the nut house or death. Indeed there are far more dry drunks out there effing up the world than drunk drunks. Dry drunks are alcoholics trying to attain nirvana by not drinking. Or maybe they're just sick of being in prison or the nut house, being sacked, writing off cars and driving their loved ones crazy. Without their medication, they are raging, roaring control freaks who think they're being reasonable when they, for example, strangle their husband because they can't stand his aftershave or the way he eats, or the way he talks, or the way he breathes. Without drinking they're just as likely to end up in aforesaid prison or nuthouse unless they begin to treat their actual problem which hithertofore they medicated with Tesco ( or Lidl, or Aldi) vodka.
But my mother isn't the worst alcoholic I ever met. That would be love of my life number 6, who, I'm very embarrassed to relate, use to decant his Netto gin into old Gordon's bottles. Sad old fart. Its not as if he was fooling anyone because tight bastard that he was, he never shared his booze with anyone.
Let’s hope your new unhoused friend suffering from alcohol abuse disorder doesn’t find herself “justice experienced” (my current favourite) at some point in the future.
It's been a while since I've commented, but I haven't missed a piece. There's no better read on substack.
As an previous alcoholic and cocaine addict, I thoroughly enjoyed this, after originally thinking I may not. A $600-a-day habit, losing my business, and pulling every piece of structure in my life to the ground, I guess I can "proudly" claim those titles. Sobriety, for me, is the only way to have any life, and that's fine. But that's for each individual to decide on their own.
For most of these "influencers", their search for some sense of meaning and purpose knows no bounds. They grossly embellish anything that may be "content worthy". Thankfully, it is those that influence very little - as those that truly know can see through their hollow little souls.
Greetings Christopher,
I wanted to introduce myself, I’m Jordan and I write about History, I am an ex addict.
In my latest article, I talk about my drug issues and how I recovered, alongside some interesting aspects of history.
I wanted to drop a comment as you may find it interesting:
https://jordannuttall.substack.com/p/real-monsters-in-tartaria?r=4f55i2&utm_medium=ios
Thanks, Jordan. Here is my reminder to read your piece. I will read it tonight.
Best, Christopher
Thank you Christopher, I appreciate that gesture!
All the best.
"Besides, I cannot just stop drinking. I drink for medical reasons. My body doesn’t naturally produce its own red wine." - Fantastic line!!!!
What a wonderful piece. I’m in. I might be out again by 6.30.
I have an alcoholic aunt, who is riotously funny and has no fucks left to give. She's half Irish and absolutely inherited both the celtic love of fine spirits and the humour. She refused a heart operation because she'd have to give up brandy. My cousins despair of her but she's pushing 80 and still with us.
I also had an alcoholic uncle. My cousins ceased having their mates overnight when he rolled home in the small hours and pissed in the corner of the living room where one of them was sleeping. He also got caught drink driving and, no word of a lie, his defence in court was "I've been drinking and driving for 30 years and never had an accident". He passed away in 2018 aged 85.
The worst influencers are the menopause influencers. St Davina of Fuck All is the leader of this pack of charlatans and frauds. Usually impossibly wealthy, with personal trainers, and chefs, Harley St doctors on speed dial, glowing skin and size 6 bodies they espouse the "miracle" that is hrt, a carb, alcohol and sugar free diet, seeming to subdist on nuts and herbs. I've yet to meet a single woman on hrt who isn't a grumpy, bloated, angry mess. In contrast, I can't take hrt. I'm doing meno using supplements, diet and exercise. I reckon I've found a combination that suits me - I get asked by men and women 20 years younger how to get skin as good as mine. I feel entirely myself. And I haven't paid Davina bloody McCall a penny 🤣😂
One of the many scourges of our current culture is the faux virtue of faux suffering, which falls in line with that most popular of non-contact sports of virtual signaling. All signal, no virtue.
"As Scott Russell Sanders puts it, children of alcoholics develop an uncanny ability to read faces and uncover motives hidden behind words."
As do real drunks. Having a couple of bad drinking experiences doesn't make you a drunk.
Drinking every night until you pass out, hiding bottles of scotch in the workshop so you're not getting nagged by your wife by going back and forth to the 'fridge for more beer...getting closer!😂
Normies appropriating dysfunction is even creeping into the substance abuse realm, apparently...🤣
Ah, me the life of the alcoholic's progeny is not easy. I should know. My mother's idea of breakfast was vodka with a tablespoon of grapefruit juice. When she had had enough, she passed out along with what I thought was astonishingly convenient amnesia of whatever she had or hadn't said or done the night before/the day before/five minutes earlier. But her wit was second to none. Well I remember, back in '69, her loud Declaration under the influence of Godknowshowmany bottles of booze, that she didn't "understand how some fat little junkie became a national heroine". She was, of course, referring to Janis Joplin.
What I really can't stand is heavy drinkers appropriating the well earned title of alcoholic. To be a real alcoholic one must not necessarily have drink one's way into prison, the nut house or death. Indeed there are far more dry drunks out there effing up the world than drunk drunks. Dry drunks are alcoholics trying to attain nirvana by not drinking. Or maybe they're just sick of being in prison or the nut house, being sacked, writing off cars and driving their loved ones crazy. Without their medication, they are raging, roaring control freaks who think they're being reasonable when they, for example, strangle their husband because they can't stand his aftershave or the way he eats, or the way he talks, or the way he breathes. Without drinking they're just as likely to end up in aforesaid prison or nuthouse unless they begin to treat their actual problem which hithertofore they medicated with Tesco ( or Lidl, or Aldi) vodka.
But my mother isn't the worst alcoholic I ever met. That would be love of my life number 6, who, I'm very embarrassed to relate, use to decant his Netto gin into old Gordon's bottles. Sad old fart. Its not as if he was fooling anyone because tight bastard that he was, he never shared his booze with anyone.
The worst
You must turn this into a piece. Reminds me of Jeffrey Bernard.
Really?
It’s got Bernardian grit to it, yes.
I second Gage's motion. Call to question! All in favor, say "Aye"!
Aye!
Let’s hope your new unhoused friend suffering from alcohol abuse disorder doesn’t find herself “justice experienced” (my current favourite) at some point in the future.
Oh, that's unlikely. The Professional Helpers seldom intervene in the lives of those they're paid handsomely to help.