Hello...
My name is Armin and I'm a Soberoholic...

I guess it was in my second year of college that I first noticed
that I had a problem.
Up until then I'd felt pretty normal.
Weekends consisted of getting steaming drunk, puking, falling over,
fighting and waking up in a cell.
Life was good...

All of a sudden I started to feel that boozing just wasn't enough,
that I needed something stronger.

At first it wasn't that big a deal, I'd go sober the odd weekend.
I'd pretend to be sick or busy with work,
and nobody suspected what I was up to.

Soon, that wasn't enough.
I'd spend a month at a time sober.
People were starting to suspect, this is when the lies started.
Friends in college would ask "what's wrong with you, you never drink".
"Oh", I'd say, "sure I'm always on the lash
when I go home at the weekends".
Then when I'd go home, I'd tell my friends that I'd been
"on the lash all week in college".

To be honest, the signs were all there if friends and family
had bothered to look.
My bank balance kept going up.
I looked alot fitter and healthier.
I was passing all my exams in college
and worst of all, I hadn't had gotten in trouble in months,
not so much as an arrest for drunk and disorderly.

At family fuctions I'd make my excuses and slip away early, to be sober.
Relatives would ask my mother, "where's Armin"?
She'd ashamedly look at the floor and reply
"Armin's,,, gone home, he's not drinking,
it's just a phase he's going through, he'll get over it".
"But why?", they'd reply, "is he ill", "what's the matter with him?",
they'd ask as she'd break down in tears.

Months turned into years...
At this point I was completely out of control.
I was entering marathons, I'd gone out and bought a new car,
I'd even started waking up beside good looking women.
Worse was to come.
One morning I woke up to discover.....I,,,I'd gotten a mortgage and now owned a house.

Yeah, this sober lifestyle had completely taken me over,
there was no telling where it would end.
Things were really starting to degenerate.
By now I'd built up a web of lies to hide my problem from my friends.
On the surface I was going out to Niteclubs
and drinking but I hid a shocking truth.
Every chance I got I'd sneak off to the toilets and lock myself into
a cubicle.
Then, to satisfy my habit I'd flush the drink down the toilet.
I'd gotten sloppy though and one time I didn't lock the door properly.
My friend opened it and caught me there,
with the drink over the bowl - mid pour.
The look of shock on his face said it all.
He just shook his head in disgust, called me a 'drink dodger'
and walked off.
I shamefully walked back out to my friends,
they were all stood there looking at me accusingly.
Apparantly they'd assumed that the reason for my
frequent trips to the toilets was some harmless cocaine problem,
they had no idea how low I'd really sunk though.

I knew then that it was time to do something about my problem.
I marched straight up to that bar and ordered Vodka after Vodka,
downing them all in one go.
In the following weeks I started to reclaim my life and restore some normality.

The weekends passed by in drunken blurs.
Once again I'd wake up with zero recollection of the night before.
I resumed missing Mondays at work.
Got that bank balance back into a healty overdrawn position.
After a few months I'd even gotten my old red face and gut back.
Times were good.

I'm still stuck with the house though, but I'm working on it.
Norm, the accountant who drinks at my local,
has advised me that now is a great time to sell,
so I'm going to get rid of it as soon as possible.
I mean, who needs a mortgage to be worrying about
when you're out on the lash with the lads?

I guess I'm just lucky that I got my act together when I still had a chance.
From time to time I still get the old urges though.
Those inexplixable hankerings for money, dignity and health.

Don't worry, tho