djpb

(sorry for the length.)

Hello,

I just wanted to drop a quick note to introduce myself (somewhat) again. I was registered on these boards a couple of years ago but couldn’t remember the email address that I used at the time…

I guess to start; my D-Day (decision day) was on the 20th of October 2009. Up until that day I was a heavy drinker--everyday. I would consider myself a “performing” alcoholic.

Though I was always confident that I could beat this problem on my own I just couldn’t manage to stay on “the wagon” for more than a week before my problem crept up on me and put me right back to where I was … maybe even a little worse than I was before. I can’t remember how many times I’ve tried and failed to stop on my own.

My rational self, knowing that drinking was doing me physical harm, would troll the WEB looking for information on Alcoholism and the effects that it has on the body and mind. I learned what I could about the major life threatening issue that I could put myself through and I learned about the symptoms.

Something that I recall caught my attention, and my doctor reiterated the fact, was that my body would deal with the alcohol up to a point and then, maybe after one drink too many, something would just stop dealing with the alcohol all together.

Since I didn’t ever have any major physical symptoms of an alcohol problem I would still convince myself that I had time to get things sorted out myself. Days slowly turned into weeks, weeks to months, and months to years and I never seemed to make any progress, at least not positive progress.

Finally, after a fairly heavy weekend and a heavy Monday I “all of a sudden” developed internal bleeding somewhere in the upper GI area. I felt perfectly fine (at least as fine as the day before) but I knew from my WEB surfing what was going on. It finally dawned on me that I was really killing myself. It went from being something I read about on the Internet to something that was affecting me quite literally.

I’ve always resisted the idea of seeking medical assistance with my problem. I’m not sure exactly why that is but it seems to have to do with pride, embarrassment and denying that I actually had a problem—and not just a little fear of the DTs, something I kept at bay with drink.

To make a long story shorter, I decided that I had to go see my doctor and put everything on the table and ask for help. (not just for the physical problem, but also help getting off drinking permanently.) This wasn’t something I was prepared or comfortable doing in the past.

I was admitted to the hospital on the same day for a medical detox and tests to find out what was wrong on the inside. My attending doctor got me through the physical withdrawal symptom quite comfortably. I did have one slightly uncomfortable night; my blood pressure was up as was my heart rate and I drifted between feeling to hot and feeling to cold. I may not have even noticed it if my nurse hadn’t woken me up every couple of hours to take my vitals. All in all it was a very smooth process. The rest of my stay was uneventful and once my blood tests started coming back as stable I was discharged (after five days.)

So here I am eleven days later without touching a drop (though I have had some trigger moments when grocery shopping or driving by one of my usual watering holes, etc.) I’m currently talking to a therapist on a regular basis and once I get up the nerve I will most likely drop in on an AA meeting to help keep myself grounded and on track.

Something I do find useful is that I’ve made a printed copy of calendar months for the next couple of years and stapled them all together with my hospital wrist band right on the top. This stack of paper is waiting for me every morning at the center of my desk in my home office as a reminder…and it’s a great feeling to mark an ‘X’ on one more successful day of abstinence, it’s actually something I look forward to every morning.

Health wise everything is looking good and I should make a complete recovery though my liver enzymes are a bit elevated. I always thought “a little elevated” wasn’t so bad and all the while I was working on burning a hole in my stomach (that's where the bleeding started.)

I feel really good as well. It’s like someone opened a window and let in fresh air; I’m rediscovering old interests that the drink has stifled in the past and I really like not having to worry about the early afternoon shakes. I’ve even discovered how messy I’ve been and gave my apartment a good thorough cleaning (keeping busy helps a great deal).

I am afraid of going back to the way I was living and I hope that fear sticks with me for a very long time (like until I’m in my 90s)

I only wish I could convince my “drinking buddies”, who haven’t had the “Ta Da” moment, that they are on the same path. But I guess I can be there for them when they do...I only hope they get off as lucky as I did!

Anyhow, thanks for reading and letting me get that off my chest. I’m surprised at how much it helps.re you’ve all read similar stories more than once.

“See” you in the forums.

D

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