A Man Takes a Drink, a Drink Takes a Drink, the Drink Takes the Man

Today’s Slogan: Old Asian Saying — “A man takes a drink, a drink takes a drink, the drink takes the man.”  When I first heard this old proverb at an AA meeting from an old-timer in early sobriety, it rang so true. Drinking is a story of progression. I never set out in life to have a problem with alcohol. Who does? All I wanted from alcohol was relief from my social awkwardness, shyness, blushing, anxiety, and fears. When I drank, why would I worry about low self-esteem or a poor self-image? At the time, alcohol seemed like the greatest thing that had ever happened to me—and, I suppose, I wasn’t alone in feeling that way.

Progression of Alcoholism

But there was another side to the story. The more I believed alcohol was the cure, the more I consumed. If a little was good, more should be better. Right? Wrong.  The progressive nature of my drinking was that the more I consumed, the worse I felt afterward.  Drinking alcohol was like feeding an anorexic piranha; it could never be satisfied. My aversion to alcohol wasn’t because of hangovers, which I rarely had. It was the growing feeling of being ill at ease. Despite increasing quantities, alcohol no longer worked the way I wanted it to.

Craziness, bad situations, and stupid things began to become regular occurrences. As a result, anxiety, fear, and regret started to rule the day. That was not what I had bargained for. The progression of my drinking, combined with an obsession with alcohol and then a compulsion to have more, was like being sold into slavery one drink at a time. None of this was part of my plan. All I wanted was to have some fun and not feel socially awkward.

During my first 90 days of recovery in 1976, I heard this phrase shared at an AA meeting. At one point, I also heard that alcoholism was a disease and an allergy. That made a lot of sense to me, and I began to see alcohol differently. From then on, I no longer looked at it as the solution to life’s problems or an answer to uncomfortable emotions. I never forgot that simple lesson.

I was truly blessed to hear people in recovery share the exact things I needed to hear. Their experiences confirmed in my mind that I was in the right place. In AA, I found my life and my people through the grace of a loving God and the fellowship of others in recovery.