What began as a few glasses has become a bottle a night. I worry that if I don’t find another way to cope with stress, someone might call last orders on my career
I don’t remember when it started, but I think it was around my second year in teaching. At first it was just a couple of glasses after work, and then a couple more. I’m now faced with the thought that my relationship with wine has become dysfunctional. It’s become a little too close for comfort.
I’m not saying I’m an alcoholic, but when you’re getting back from work and the first thing you do is pour yourself a large glass of Pinot Noir, then comfortably polish off the bottle before you’ve finished dinner, you know things have maybe gone too far.
I’ve coped manfully for many years hiding the effects of my drinking from those who should be most concerned.
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