Now, if I were reading this Web site rather than writing it, my continued interest might be based largely on the hope that the writer was headed towards a messy relapse which she�d describe in gory detail and make everybody feel better about their own lives.

Well, although I sometimes wish I could provide a more exciting narrative here, I don�t plan on any relapses. I don�t even like the word. It�s more of that quasi-medical jargon, like �alcoholic� and �recovery.� The word �relapse� makes me think of the word �swoon� -- I imagine people swooning into relapses.

Maybe nobody plans to have a relapse, but it seems plenty of people have them. On the message boards I read and to a lesser extent in the meetings I attend, people are relapsing left and right. The general attitude towards relapse seems to be, �Don�t worry, it�s not the end of the world, you don�t have to kill yourself over it, just get back on the ball.� I agree that that�s the right attitude to take. I just can�t imagine I could pull it off.

It seems to me that a relapse would be so devastating I�d be unable to pull myself back out of it. Maybe that�s just an excuse I�ve prepared in advance. But I think I would feel so bad. Ugh, it would suck. I really wouldn�t be able to even deal with myself, or even talk to myself properly in my own head, let alone face other people who have supported me.

Then again, it all comes down to how you define a relapse, right? Can one drink be a relapse? No, I don�t think so. It would have to be at least 24 solid hours of drunkenness. And if you plan it in advance, is it a relapse? It seems to me a relapse would have to come upon you suddenly, like a swoon. Calmly deciding to start drinking again would not be a relapse. Right? There will always be loopholes, but a relapse by any other name probably stinks as bad.

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