Reader “Meri” sent feedback and shared her story
“Free from Wine is the best book I have ever read: a book that supported the most important decision of my life.” – Meri
My journey to freedom from Wine
Year 2003
I’m just over thirty, my child is just starting school. I divorced amicably from my 10-year marriage, and I feel in control of my life—beautiful, bold, and free. Life ahead. Alcohol does not fit into my world. I’ve had a few ciders now and then, and I feel it’s just a waste of money and not in line with my values. I’m moving to a neighboring city, starting a new job with a lot more responsibility and a future ahead of me.
Year 2004
I make new friends and network quickly. I taste red wine for the first time in my life. The taste is shockingly bad, but I feel uneducated because I know almost nothing about red wines. I remember my first sip of red wine—the flush it brought to my cheeks and the warm feeling inside me. I become happier and feel like a world conqueror. Wow, this feeling, even though the taste is bad.
Year 2005
I’ve learned to drink red wine, even to like it. I meet a new man who knows everything about wine and drink. He buys us wine during the week, and in the early days, a bottle goes for half a bottle every night. I’m at the height of my life, in love and always in a good mood.
End of 2005
My husband is away on business for a week at a time, and the first time I wake up is when I’m buying wine five minutes before the store closes. Must have a night of relaxation. It’s nice to be alone sometimes, and I can enjoy my own time after the kids have gone to bed. My child asks, “Are you drinking that red juice again, Mummy?” Yes, that’s what a mother does…
Year 2006
The first hiding places. The first awakening.
Half bottles have been replaced by whole bottles. In the morning, it’s hard to get up, and my head is buzzing. I pop a painkiller and head to work. I already find myself lying to my husband about how much I drink.
Weekends are tense and lead to arguments, and once, the police are called when the shouting reaches a neighbor. I feel extreme shame and realize I need to stop. I’m terrified, especially since I have a young child to care for, so I reach out to social services for help. I get scared and decide enough is enough—I’m done with drinking. My anxiety holds me back for about two months, but then a business trip abroad gives me the freedom to drink wine again, away from everything.
On that trip, I unexpectedly meet a man with whom I had my first drunken encounter. He drinks heavily too, which suits me just fine. On our first morning together, we start the day with a drink of gin, and before long, I’m back into old habits. Soon after, we begin a secret relationship.
Year 2007
All my energy goes into arranging meetings with my secret lover. Every chance I get is spent planning how we can meet up, so we can drink together. With him, I feel like I can escape—from the world, from responsibility, from everything.
I still manage to keep up with my job, but I work with a constant sense of dread, afraid someone will notice that I drank again the night before. The guilt makes me push myself even harder, working twice as much to appear like a top performer in the eyes of my employer, just to hide the truth.
End of year 2007
My secret lover and I move in together, and my child begins a new life with two new stepsisters. I get promoted at my workplace and am given my own department at the headquarters. So all the hard work and diligence paid off.
I take care of our home, and I am the perfect mother and stepmother. At least during the day—because at night, another life begins.
We drink, we drink every night. We have a wonderful time. We get married, and life is perfect.
Year 2008
We drink. We argue. We make up. And we drink. From the year 2008, I remember almost nothing except the mindless performance of demanding work and the reward of wine when I had survived the workday so well.
We drink and argue about anything and everything. And we make up. That’s how the year must have gone. Oh, and I exercised, because I had to keep up appearances.
Year 2009
My husband’s business goes bankrupt, and it’s a shock. Financial difficulties, uncertainty about the future, the mortgage. Every night I had a reason to drink. We argued almost daily, and my husband was already drinking during the day.
On holiday, I also started drinking from the morning. I was tired of constant fighting and financial troubles, and the love ended. But even though the love ended, we stayed together. Because that’s what we had promised in front of the priest.
I kept up appearances with my job and because I was a mother. I had to look like a good mother. No one knew what was happening behind the facade.
Year 2010
My husband doesn’t even look for a job anymore, and that causes fights. We argue and drink. I’m constantly tired and irritable. Wine eases the situation—I’ve earned it. My husband’s condition worsens as he falls into jealousy. Alcohol and jealousy are a dangerous combination. I, too, become paranoid. The fights worsen. We start to physically fight each other, breaking each other’s belongings.
Year 2011
For the sake of myself and my child, I decide that we are moving out. I apply for a transfer to another city and get it immediately. My child and I move a few hundred kilometers away, and I decide to start a new life. No alcohol. More presence with my child. More shared activities with them. More being present.
That summer, my child goes to their grandparents’ for a month, leaving me alone in an unfamiliar city. I go and buy wine to comfort myself. I listen to music and drink. I’m sad about the past years and cry alone.
In the mornings, I feel terrible and swear I won’t drink that evening. By 6 p.m., I’m at the liquor store buying one last bottle of wine. And the same thing repeats night after night. It continues even after my child returns home. Every evening, I impatiently wait for the moment I can open my bottle.
End of year 2011
I’m already drinking at work.
Since I work the evening shift, I pour wine into a thermos and take it with me to work. I’m so jumpy that I almost drop my mug.
I drink at work and manage to act completely sober. I exercise whenever I’m not working or drinking, and in the evenings, I bike home to drink more.
I have a second serious awakening and start looking for peer support online. I read people’s stories and decide to quit drinking. I tell my mother, who is completely shocked because she had no idea I was drinking.
I stay sober for a month and then relapse. I feel ashamed and embarrassed. I feel awful. I search for AA meetings and go. I feel liberated there and empowered. I go again the following week, and my decision remains strong.
I make new sober friends and feel like I’m gaining strength.
Sometimes I don’t have the energy to go to AA meetings, so I start going less frequently. I think to myself that now I can drink moderately—I can handle it. One Tuesday evening, I open a bottle of wine, and the same thing happens the next evening, and the next. I realize I can’t stop. I go to the occupational health doctor and tell a sugarcoated version of my story, asking for Antabuse. Great, I got 100 pills. Now sobriety begins.
2012 – Delusions
I stay sober for a month, exercise, and make deals with myself about the Antabuse. I’m on dangerous ground, but is this what the rest of my life will be like? No more wine, no more wonderful intoxication, nothing fun anymore?
I manage my job, home, and child. Everything seems fine, but the secret is overwhelming. I start drinking again. I drive long distances to different liquor stores. Every night, I drink myself to sleep, and in the morning, I’m a walking zombie.
I see in photos that I’m no longer the same woman I was five years ago. I don’t care anymore. As long as I get my wine in the evening.
I start Antabuse again and go back to AA. I return humbly and my resolve is strong. After three months, I begin to imagine again that I can drink moderately.
And the same cycle starts over. I quit and start again. I quit and start again. And each time, I sink lower and lower.
Year 2013 – The Worst Year Of My Life
My child is nearly an adult and spends much of their time in their own activities. I am completely alone. It’s a miracle that I’ve managed to do my job well enough to win awards and diplomas for various things. That has been one of the things that has kept me tied to my facade.
I’m so lonely that I start seeking out sexual relationships to prove to myself that I’m still desirable. No one knows about my other life, and I have 5–7 men across Finland that I see. The more meaningless relationships I have, the lonelier and dirtier I feel. I take advantage of these men, but really, they were taking advantage of me. As long as I had wine and sex, that was enough.
Year 2013 – Before The End of the Year
Through work, I make friends with a nice man and realize I like him a lot. Somehow, I manage to pull myself together again, and we start dating. The wine goes away, but slowly returns during the weekends. When we were not yet living together, I drank alone at home in the evenings because I was so happy.
We move in together. I thought this was my new, brave life. I didn’t need wine in the evenings.
2014
During the summer, I drink myself into a bad state and cause our first serious argument. Over something trivial and meaningless. The next morning, I humbly apologize as a woman, and of course, my partner forgives me. I’m scared and stop drinking for a while.
In the fall, I have more business trips, and at the hotel, I drink my bottle of wine. Even though I decide not to drink, I go to the local liquor store to get my wine. And every morning, I feel terrible and like the worst person in the world.
My partner has a hobby once a week, and during that time, I drink wine at home. Oh, what stress it causes, hiding my bottle and wondering if he’ll notice. So many times, I almost get caught.
Sometimes, I go a month without drinking, but then I start again. When I start, I can’t stop. I drink again the next evening, and then I stop again. I’m starting to get tired of the constant lying.
2015
Another major blow-up. I go wild and argue while drunk. And the next morning, I apologize again. And I stop drinking again.
At best, I can go three months without drinking, but then I start bargaining with myself again. And my partner says, “You don’t have a problem, you’re just too temperamental when drunk.”
2016
The same pattern continues month after month. I upset my child, and our trust is on the line because I insult someone important to them while drunk. I upset another relative, and again, I’m drunk. I realize my personality has changed over the years. I’ve become aggressive and awful. I feel like everyone is against me, and I justify my behavior with this delusion.
I feel terrible, and I medicate myself with wine.
June 2017
I’m at a summer party. I’ve taken a secret drink before leaving for the party, so I feel tipsy.
Before midnight, I’m so drunk that I insult my husband and others. My legs can’t carry me. I’m the spitting image of every monstrous woman, and I go home to sleep. The next morning, I don’t recognize myself anymore. I can’t keep fighting alcohol, so I give up. I surrender to sobriety and to finding myself again.
I know there will be countless situations where I’ll think of wine. It was in my life for so many years, but it only brought harm. Only harm.
I won’t let it control me anymore. I will do everything I can to recover from this disease. I can never have a drink again, not even a sip of wine or any alcohol. And I don’t need to. I’ve had my fill of drinking in life—my quota was reached on June 18, 2017.
Now it’s time to build a life worth living, and I have a lot of work to do. But I have the most important thing with me: time.
I lived 10 years in hell, in the prison of my own lies. I will never return there.
– Meri
