I come from a long line of Irish alcoholics. I had an aunt who could quit now and then for a time, but always went back into it, deeply and destructively. I have no idea how she managed quitting or why she always went back to it.
My own father was an alcoholic for years. It was hard for him, and for us growing up. He “took cures” with the aid of professionals twice, without effective result. But the third one “took”, and he was alcohol-free for the rest of his life.
I don’t really know how he did it. Undoubtedly, part of it was his facing the fact that he could never touch alcohol again. As a young man, it was just part of “Irish life”. His own mother placed a shot glass of whiskey before all the men of the family beside their plates at every meal. Every holiday was an occasion for drinking. Every night was an occasion, to “relax”. Then all of life was for drinking.
I don’t know how he did it, really. He did have some frustrations in his life, but somehow “mellowed out of them”, became more philosophical, more relaxed. I don’t know about the sugar part. If anything his sugar consumption increased greatly after he stopped drinking. At night, instead of sitting down with a glass of whiskey, he sat down with a glass of pineapple juice…always pineapple juice. I don’t know why pineapple juice, particularly. Maybe he just liked the flavor and somehow found that a 'relaxation substitute" for alcohol.
He was careful after he quit. I recall his taking the family to an Italian restaurant on the occasion of my graduation from college. Without thinking, I ordered, for dessert, spumoni alla marsalla. Ice cream with marsalla wine poured on it. Since none of the others knew what to order, they all ordered the same. When he saw it, he very calmly put it aside and asked me if I had a different recommendation. I was mortified at my mistake, but he was very pleasant and matter-of-fact about it.
I thought of him, after he quit, as a hero, notwithstanding that living with it as a child was extremely difficult. He only spoke of it once to me…after I was fully grown. He and I were alone in a room and he simply said “I’m sorry, you know, for all of what happened years ago.” My reply (I heard myself say it. I didn’t think it out.) was “there’s nothing to forgive.”
He nodded, and we both understood. And at that point, and considering what a father he had been before alcohol took him over, and considering what a father he had been after he quit drinking, that was exactly correct. On balance, there was nothing to forgive.
Because of the number of alcoholics in my ancestery, I have always been very careful about drinking because I feared a tendency to alcoholism might be hereditary, and there’s reason to believe that. I might take a drink twice/year.
But there is not the slightest doubt in my mind that once a person becomes alcohol addicted, he can never drink again or it will take over his life and that of his family.
I have (half tongue in cheek) promised myself that once I reach the age of 80, I will feel free to drink as much as might please me, realizing that I probably won’t have enough years left to become dependent, no matter what.