Alcohol provided me with countless red flags and wake‑up calls. My problem wasn’t the lack of warnings—it was that I didn’t see them.
I laughed them off. I told stories like they were funny or impressive. Looking back, I ask myself, What was I thinking?
Alcohol is a legal form of recreation that can quietly become a legal form of medication—and the user rarely sees the transition.
That was me.
I was numbing myself, surrounding myself with people doing the same, while those I respected were quietly shaking their heads.
I was still perceived as succeeding—while failing in countless ways.
I never enjoyed a drink.
I raced toward intoxication.
Bold—or reckless.
Social—or belligerent.
Exciting—or dangerous.
Later, I was married and working at a prestigious organization—excelling at work and failing at home.
My wife once told me it felt like alcohol was more important than her. To me, that was absurd.
But it was her perception.
Years later, in counseling, she said she believed she had married a monster.
That was a wake‑up call—years too late.
I’m proud alcohol no longer influences my life. I’m still working on the root issues. To be a husband, father, and leader, alcohol had no place in my life.