Two summers ago, I was unemployed, majorly depressed, and drinking heavily. As in a handle of vodka every other day. During one spell, I found myself varying between chills and fevers, hurting like I had the flu, and with no money or insurance. It wasn't the flu. Shortly, I was sitting on the toilet, passing blood, and begging whatever powers that be that would listen to not let me die like this. I truly did not know if I was going to survive this episode.
I stopped drinking, stayed in bed for two days, and finally began to heal. I came out of sickness and straight into withdrawal. I drank enough to not go into seizures but really limited myself.
That's what the last two years were like. Not enough booze to kill me, not enough abstinence to kill me. I was on a long term taper until last year when I came back here. I was finally able to put it down with my doctor's help. My recent weekend binge was an aberration caused by inattentiveness on my part to my meds.
And that's the story.