Viva la Vivitrol

I'm now in week 3 after my first injection of Vivitrol.

It is nothing short of a miracle drug. I have had absolutely no desire to drink since the injection. I'm set to get another in early March.

Why is this drug not prevalent? Why is it virtually unknown? Given the severity of mid-stage and late stage alcoholics' post-acute withdrawal, why do rehab clinics shun it?

I understand that therapy must accompany it, and I am doing that. But I just cannot understand why such an effective drug is so incredibly expensive (which of course is one reason it is not in widespread use), and why most people have never heard of it.

I like bars.

Please see introductory post here.

No, really. I do. I love the ambiance of a cozy Irish pub, or a low-key sports bar. The romance of hunkering down with the newspaper or a magazine and reading, alone, with a beer and a sandwich, is a beautiful thing -- or it can be.

I could go on and on about this subject.

One thing I didn't like about rehab was that I was discouraged from speaking about bars in this wistful manner. I felt like I could not properly mourn the passing of my friend.

Toward the end of my drinking career, I was drinking hard liquor -- usually vodka, but sometimes Jim Beam -- alone, at home, late in the afternoons or early evenings. Bars were sort of in my past, for the most part.

Still, they beckon on occasion. And I have no problem going into bar-restaurants with family or friends for a meal and not drinking, even if they are. No, it's my alone time with my former mistress that I miss. Even if a pub was full of patrons, or if there was a band playing, or half-tanked football fans were screaming at the TV, I could still be alone and awash in the bath of seeming good will and warm lighting that was afforded me by my favorite bars.

I miss them, yes, but it helps a lot to have the education behind me that reminds me that they do not miss me.

The Drinking Lamp is lit

Hello. My name is Patrick, and I am a drinker, an alcoholic. I'm in my mid-40s, and started imbibing when I was 15. Couple beers in the woods with my pal John and a couple of girls -- with whom we did not score, tellingly.

The name of this blog comes from my days in the Marine Corps (don't worry, I'm not a gung-ho, hoo-rah type -- I was only in the service for four years, it was almost 20 years ago, and I don't have, say, a crew cut or USMC tatts). As the Marines are part of the Navy, they take their terminology from ship jargon. The floor is the "deck," the wall is a "bulkhead," the bathroom is the "head," etc.



When breaks came -- after drills, or during regular work shifts, or even when on maneuvers in the field -- you were allowed to smoke when the ranking sergeant or officer proclaimed, "The smoking lamp is lit." There was no actual smoking lamp. Like many things in the Corps and the Navy, it was language passed down by tradition.


It is my intention with this blog to illuminate some things regarding my condition, alcoholism. Hence, the Drinking Lamp. The Drinking Lamp is lit.

I don't care what we talk about. Drinking or not drinking is fine. Nothing should be off-limits: treatment, rehabs, the hatred of rehabs and treatment, the best beers, AA, NA, a really fun time had while drunk, a totally horrible time influenced by the sauce. A nice pinot noir, or a life ruined. A pleasant Corona buzz on the beach or a DUI that claimed lives.

I don't drink anymore, but I don't want to exclude people who do. I miss a nice Guinness. I miss light reds with pasta. I don't miss blackouts or getting sick and saying mean things to my wife which I don't recall the next day. But that's just me. We all have our different stories, our different lives. I'd love to hear about yours.


How long have I been sober? I don't believe in the whole "counting days" thing (the subject for an early post here, I hope), but I can tell you that as of today -- Feb. 20, 2011 -- it's been less than a year.  

I've been to rehab. Three times. I learned a lot. I went to a very good place. It is testament, in fact, to how tough this disease is that I went to a very good place and still ended up there thrice. But I think it has finally taken. Perhaps in time I'll reveal where I went.

And that reminds me of another thing that will make for a good post. I do believe -- now -- that alcoholism, like all addictions to substances, is a disease. It wasn't always that way. There's some proof in this post that it is a disease, in my mind. I regularly vomit and become mean while drunk, yet I profess to missing a nice Guinness or a full-bodied cabernet sauvignon. The fact is that I've never had one Guinness in my life. It's always 10 or 12. As for wine, anything less than two bottles for myself is generally a disappointment.

So this is a blog about drinking, by an alcoholic. I want to examine, with your help, the enormous paradox that is booze, on all kinds of scales.