I have been stable for more than four decades with one or two emotionally tornadic days: I started my journey as an alcoholic when I was 15, and it subsided substantially after the fiasco on my 36th birthday. Shortly there after I met my current wife, Jeanne, and she helped me defeat that monster, but it wasn't until about 12 years ago that I became completely free from drinking any alcoholic beverage.
Over the past month, I have sipped whiskey or rum a couple of days a week as a form of recreation in this dreadful life I lead as my wife's only caregiver. About 1/2 oz or 10 cl during my afternoon break.
The meds I take magnify that small amount's effect. A short-lived, tiny buzz. It is all I have to deal with as a risky move I know. Because it took so many years to admit I was an alcoholic and give up drinking altogether.
