By the end of my time in rehab, the people who fascinated me the most were the straight alcoholics. The drunks. The boozers. The men and women who didn’t shoot, smoke, eat, or snort drugs, and who possibly never had. The ones who woke in the morning at four a.m. to take a shot of whiskey from a bottle in the hall closet simply to kill the shakes and sleep again, only to shuffle to the shower at eight a.m. after a quick swig of vodka (because it’s “odourless”) and make it to work red-faced and sweaty, to sit in a cubicle or run a business or sell a car, to run across the street and have another shot at lunch, to smoke hasty cigarettes behind the garage, to scream at their kids and beat their husbands and wives, to swear tomorrow they will quit, to carry on for ten or twenty or thirty years. And end up here, in group […] mumbling, “Oh, I never did any of the crazy things you all are talking about. I just drank.” At night, I’d wonder if they were perhaps the sickest people in the room, people who would die under the radar of “functioning alcoholism,” lacking the flash to get noticed, failing to pose sufficient threat to society to get locked up, dying by a rope in a closet one day, or a car smashed into a tree, or down the road in the ER after liver failure, or old, tired, and miserable, in the park with a bag. Shuffling down the sidewalk, still sure they aren’t that sick.’
That was my DM; except she didn't wake up and take a shot of booze as far as I know. She started drinking early in the evening and as you say 'just drank.' I winced when I saw posters talking about getting wine boxes, because that was what she did - it wasn't as obvious as getting a couple of bottles a night and it meant there was always wine in the house. How the hell she never killed anyone driving while drunk I'll never know - she used to phone me sometimes, absolutely incoherent and swearing she wasn't drunk, and I'd listen and tell her to go to bed, and when I'd put the phone down, pray as hard as I could that she hadn't got in the car and gone looking for another drink.
Weirdly I never, ever recall her being hungover, complaining of feeling hungover or being ill from alcohol and I never recall her smelling of it. Physiologically she was a mystery in her reaction to it.
Sorry. Bit of an unload there.