The other day on YouTube, I watched an episode of the business video media channel “PIVOT Official Channel” featuring Dr. Toshihiko Matsumoto, an expert in addiction treatment, as a guest.
It’s been over ten years since I quit drinking at age 40.
In this article, rather than focusing on medical accuracy, I’ll write about my personal experience of how I’ve come to terms with alcohol.
This article is not intended to provide medical explanations or diagnoses. It is simply my own experience and understanding as someone with a developmental disability, put into words.
Sobriety
I quit drinking when I was 40.
In recent years, I feel that the long-used proverb “Wine is the elixir of life” is misleading. In reality, “Alcohol has a hundred harms and not a single benefit” has become the de facto standard, and even in parentheses, it dominates as the prevailing “truth.”
Indeed, looking at the daily news stories about people who lost their social standing due to failure, it’s undeniable that alcohol is often involved in the background. In more serious cases, such as sexual harassment, power harassment, and even criminal incidents, alcohol consumption is undoubtedly a factor in many instances.
In the PIVOT video introduced at the beginning, Mr. Toshihiko Matsumoto points out the dangers of drinking using the following data:
- Drinking alcohol can cause high blood pressure and diabetes
- 21% of completed suicide cases involved alcohol problems
- In those cases, the individuals were overwhelmingly:
- men in their 40s and 50s
- employed
In fact, I too have made numerous mistakes due to drinking.
As someone with a developmental disability, even when sober I tend to misread situations and make careless remarks or actions that invite misunderstanding. When drunk, things become utterly disastrous—a sight too painful to behold.
※The following contains descriptions of self-harm.
This expression may cause extreme discomfort or anxiety for some readers, but I must state that I have attempted to take my own life several times in my life. It is important to note that all of these attempts occurred while I was under the influence of alcohol. To borrow the words from the data cited above, if I had succeeded, I would not be writing this article.
Fortunately, however, I have never been diagnosed with alcoholism. Looking back on my own life and circumstances, I believe I never crossed into the realm of alcoholism.
But I think I did glimpse that “realm.”
Why do I say this? Because in my youth, I studied to become an actor. That experience gave me a perspective on “how to think as another person and build emotions as that character.” This is the acting theory known as the “Stanislavski System.”
Using the stance I learned from this acting theory, I can deconstruct even the most extreme, incomprehensible, seemingly edgy, “utterly irrational behavior” of others. I work backwards from it, searching within my own experiences for any part that might align with that seemingly abnormal edge. If I find it, I explore deeper, asking: In which direction should I accelerate that experience to reach that edge?
I have continued this way of thinking throughout my life. That’s why I believe I can understand, to some extent, the feelings of people who cannot escape not only alcoholism but also other drug dependencies. However, I won’t delve further into the topic of acting technique here. I hope to put it into words again if the opportunity arises.
The Dangers of Nightcaps
Let’s get back to drinking.
Personally, what I find frightening is “bedtime drinking.” Bedtime drinking means “drinking alcohol before falling asleep,” and I believe it’s distinct from “evening drinks” consumed during dinner or similar times. Even in modern Japan, where drinking etiquette has become stricter compared to the past, I feel bedtime drinking isn’t widely recognized as something particularly “terrifying.”
However, based on personal experience, I find bedtime drinking very frightening.
As someone with developmental disabilities and the secondary condition of bipolar disorder, I’ve often struggled with sleep. The terror brought on by insomnia imposed significant constraints on my life for a long time.
But back then, before I was aware of my developmental disabilities and all my other issues, I convinced myself that “drinking alcohol is better than taking sleeping pills.” So on sleepless nights, I’d just drink.
I’d turn off the lights and get into bed, yet sleep wouldn’t come. Thirty minutes, ninety minutes passed, and before I knew it, the time spent “wanting to sleep but unable to” had exceeded two hours. I’d panic. Then I’d crawl out of bed, get some alcohol, and drink. If there was none at home, I’d go to the convenience store to buy some, and then drink again.
Days like this went on for a long time.
The following is purely a verbalization of my personal experience; professional medical opinions may differ. With a nightcap, you drink while in that “fuzzy state of consciousness just before falling asleep,” and you get drunk there. Lying in bed, consciousness fuzzy, lights off, room pitch black.
In this state, unlike drinking while sitting or standing in a bright room, it becomes hard to gauge how drunk you are. You don’t get the cues that tell you how drunk you are right now—like your vision blurring, or feeling unsteady when trying to stand up from a chair.
As a result, in my case, the amount of alcohol I consumed kept increasing.
Furthermore, it seems to be a medically confirmed fact that drinking before bed places a greater burden on your organs.
The Tremor Never Fully Goes Away
I’ve been abstaining from alcohol for ten years now, but on days when I experience some kind of psychological stress, my mind feels unsettled.
Personally, I imagine this is triggered by the memory of feeling that stress was once alleviated by alcohol.
This might be a slight digression, but for me, the same thing applies to smoking. Though I’ve been smoke-free longer than I’ve been sober,
when I see someone I’ve watched for years—like a game streamer I’m familiar with—lighting up,
my resolve still wavers slightly.
The more my core feels unstable, weakened, the more it shakes.
That wavering, though faint, radiates an irresistible allure.
To cast off the shackles I’ve imposed on myself and surrender to that wavering.
The memory of the sweet world that lies beyond never fades.
I suspect I’ll carry this feeling of “my heart stirring” with me for the rest of my life.
Well, so for now, when I sense “I’m feeling weak right now,” the approach that feels most natural to me is to avoid any information about drinking whatsoever
The Mark of Pleasure
This, too, may differ from a medical perspective—it’s purely my personal opinion—but I’d like to put into words what I feel about pleasure substances.
In the past, I imagined alcoholism like this:
“When the total amount of alcohol consumed in one’s life accumulates to a certain level, some change occurs in the body. And that’s when you become an ‘alcoholic.’”
But now, I hold a different understanding.
When alcohol is consumed, pleasure substances are secreted in the brain, inducing feelings of comfort and enjoyment. But how intensely does an individual become dependent on that experience? How vividly do they imprint the moment those brain chemicals are released? I now believe these differences stem from varying levels of sensitivity.
There are likely individual differences involved—constitution, temperament, and even genetic factors.
That’s how I feel about it.
Having made numerous mistakes due to drinking, the thought I currently hold is this:
“In this life, I was born unable to enjoy alcohol.”
In other words, for me, abstinence isn’t a choice made out of “correctness,” but rather the result of accepting the limitations of my own individual self. That’s how I can articulate it.
Alcohol isn’t the only substance that releases pleasure chemicals
For someone like me, living with bipolar disorder and experiencing intense mood swings, alcohol isn’t the only temptation that temporarily lets me forget the joy and sorrow those swings bring. Resources for dependency are scattered everywhere. And that, too, is incredibly exhausting.
So, how have I managed to suppress the urge to drink? I’ve thought about it, and personally, I feel the only way is to overwrite that urge with another desire.
Needless to say, this alternative desire should ideally have as few downsides as possible. Getting hooked on gambling or chain-smoking to resist drinking doesn’t seem like a particularly good solution.
What was lucky for me was that I’d been a long-time fitness enthusiast.
You basically can’t keep up with weight training unless you’re healthy.
Here, maintaining my health felt like a reward to me, and as a result, it became my motivation to stay sober.
For people who haven’t lived with such relatively low-negative-side-effect alternatives, quitting alcohol is probably a much heavier and deeper struggle than what I experienced
A life intertwined with alcohol
On social media, you often see people posting with a stance that could be called an educational campaign urging others to quit drinking. I frequently witness intense debates and arguments between those who support drinking and those who oppose it.
I don’t dismiss these passionate advocates urging others to quit drinking.
But I can’t help wondering:
Who are they trying to save?
Could it be that the person they truly want to save is themselves?
I think I understand the feelings of those who feel, “Quitting drinking is impossible.”
Moreover, accepting the information experts solemnly present—like “alcohol has these harmful effects”—internalizing it, truly taking it to heart, indirectly means judging your past self. It also brings a sense of delivering a death sentence to yourself, like declaring, “You’ve been drinking for XX years. Calculating that, you have only XX years left to live.” Needless to say, this is a terrifying prospect many find unbearable.
Furthermore, I feel that for those who have drunk for many years, the memories of every significant moment in their life are intertwined with alcohol.
The joy of sharing life’s first victories—like passing exams or landing a job—with family and friends,
Favorite bars and the relationships formed there,
The dramas of life like friendships and romances,
Encounters, and partings.
Countless pages of life’s memories, cherished recollections, exist within the heart alongside alcohol. In a country like Japan, where drinking is so accepted, I suspect many people feel this way.
Good memories and bitter ones alike.
I believe the culture of drinking has been woven together in this manner.
From another perspective, there’s also this way of thinking:
“Quitting drinking is impossible,”
“What other pleasures are there in my life?”
“Work is too hard. But I have to pay the mortgage,”
“Drinking is my only salvation,”
“Don’t take it away from me.”
Even if they don’t verbalize it like this, I suspect many people live with these feelings. And at the same time, I also think that modern society lacks a philosophy capable of truly answering such cries.
Thinking this way, I suppose one could say that listing the harms of drinking in a somewhat one-sided manner, encouraging abstinence, and unilaterally condemning drinkers amounts to denying the lives of people who have lived with alcohol, people who feel they cannot keep running their lives without it.
Thus, laying bare the perspectives of both sides in this conflict,
and the structure of the situations they are placed in,
does not offer catharsis to the reader.
Moreover, depending on one’s viewpoint, it might even be considered a rather mean-spirited perspective.
To write only one side’s principles and assertions, immersing oneself in that side and throwing oneself into the fervor. Doing so might trigger the release of pleasure chemicals in the brain, yielding satisfaction.
But I think that’s a luxury I, as a writer, cannot afford, and so I put it into words.
Therefore, rather than waving the flag of righteousness, I want to write starting from my own feet.
In Closing
For me, abstaining from alcohol is not a victory.
It is merely a settlement—finally facing and accepting the limits of my own being.
And that settlement continues to be renewed, day after day.
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