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Old 12-09-2009, 06:49 PM
  # 8 (permalink)  
sphalerite
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Join Date: Aug 2009
Location: up north
Posts: 102
Alcohol was my best friend. It was my 'go to' buddy. We did everything together. Going out, socializing, camping, boating, fishing, relaxing at home; everything I did was so much more fun, so much more interesting with my buddy along for the ride.
I couldn't imagine life without it--even when my 'best friend' started to turn on me, I made excuses. I was still in control, wasn't I? I wasn't physically dependent.

I rationalized.

I'll never have that morning drink.
I'll slow down if I ever start getting the shakes.

I researched.

Vitamin B1 and milk thistle daily, that's the ticket!
Benzos for the nasty anxiety, to even me out when certain responsibilities meant that I couldn't start drinking when I wanted (needed) to.

After years and years of fun together, it seemed that my 'go to' buddy had somehow taken over the drivers seat. The relationship had changed. I could not do anything without my buddy. My 'best friend' was making more and more demands on my time, my relationships and my sanity.
I stopped socializing, I would not go to any event that I couldn't drink heavily at. When I did go out it would be to dark disgusting dive bars (all the time telling myself and others that I preferred these places--at least they knew how to pour a drink!)
My blackouts (which have always been a side effect of my drinking since day one) started to get longer and scarier. My hangovers had evolved.

I started neglecting my family, my children, my appearance. Drinking was all that mattered. I always needed a full supply now. If I ran out it would mean nastiness...I started seizing once, in front of a couple of family members and my 4 year old child.

But it was still fun right?

My best friend, who had been with me through everything, was trying to kill me. Yet I still made excuses.

I ended the relationship almost three months ago. It was the hardest thing that I've ever had to do. I knew the relationship had to end, I knew if it didn't I'd end up in jail, in an asylum or dead, but it was still excruciating. After the withdrawal and fog subsided I was very depressed. The first few weeks I felt as if I'd lost my best friend. As if there had been a death. Crazy (when I think of it) that I was mourning the buddy that was trying to kill me. I'm still very new to this, and I still have flashes of that feeling--but it's getting better. With the help of an amazing recovery program, and a network of people who are supporting me I feel like I can do this.

I am grateful that I stopped when I did. That I still have a family. That (like many of you have said) my once 'best friend' led me to AA and a life in which I am slowly learning to be happy and functional in without drinking.
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