Am I One of These?

I started getting worried about drinking when I was bowling in the early 1980’s with my friends. On Tuesdays, the four of us would meet for early or late bowling depending on the week and although my talent was for handicap scoring, I felt welcome, respected and a part of the team. However, as the months went by, I began to count my change in my slender billfold followed by the next morning wondering how much I had spent. It only cost me $3 to bowl, but with drinking, I couldn’t remember where the rest of the money went. However, details like that did not matter nor could I keep them in my head for some reason. The clock for mealtimes and the children’s’ needs were my only schedule keepers. As the weeks went by, I began to wonder if I would drink the next week. Three drinks weren’t much but seemed to be more than I was comfortable with, as I would get sullen and remorseful. I would look around the bar we had gone to from the bowling alley, wanting to see if others were happy or happier than me. Why was I not content just to be with my friends I enjoyed? Why did I care about what that guy on the barstool drank or why he was laughing?