For years I lived in a drinking family in a drinking world — a world that might have been a lot like Diane Schuler’s world. Booze was my solution. If I was depressed, I drank; if I was celebrating, I drank. I drank whiskey for headaches and beer for hangovers and wine if I was feeling intellectual. Because most people I knew drank more than I did, my drinking was almost invisible. No one thought I had a problem. When my husband and I drove, I was the designated driver, because I drank beer while he mixed vodka martinis in the passenger seat. This seemed like responsible behavior.  “How could she?” Well, I have a theory | Salon Life

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