I also read this today, in my other group. Included here is my response after the main post:
"I wrote this post about a year ago. I'm bumping it now because it's the beginning of summer which traditionally sees a lot of relapses and lapses. I hope this post prevents at least one. Please know that a.) it is NOT aimed at anyone in particular and b.) time heals and I no longer carry the huge burden of guilt I did when I first wrote this. It's much smaller now, thanks to the loving kindness of the ladies of WFS. I re-post this in loving memory of Mikey G. 1969-2014.
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I’m not talking to anyone in particular but at the same time, I’m talking to you and you and you. You who is reading this with a glass of wine in her hand. You who is still drinking and on the fence about quitting. You who keepings thinking “I’ll quit tomorrow.” And most of all you who thinks “one more won’t hurt.”
ALCOHOL KILLS.
How do I know? I’m about to say goodbye to a dear friend of mine who was only 45 years old. He died because of his drinking. No, he didn’t die in a car crash or from organ failure or from and OD. He FELL. He fell. He hit his head and he bled to death. That’s right – he bled to death. Who the eff dies like that? Alcoholics die like that. Alcoholics who have thinned their blood because they have been drinking. Alcoholics who pass out while walking and fall and hit their heads on hard things and get gashes in their heads and lay there bleeding until there’s a huge pool of blood all around them. Then he woke up for a while and apparently tried to stop the bleeding, leaving bloody towels and swashes of blood all over the room. But he was too drunk and weakened by blood loss to successful stop the bleeding. He tried to call 911 but couldn’t – probably because by that time, he’d lost so much blood he couldn’t see straight. He died by the front door trying to get help by going up to the main house on the property. He never made it. He was found the next day by one of his parents. What parent deserves to find their youngest son dead like that?
Why do I care so much? Because I was the last person to talk to Michael. On Saturday night, the night of the Conference, my friend Michael was supposed to come down to my house at around 4 in the afternoon and stay overnight and watch my cats until I got home. I just got a new kitten, Gypsy, and I wanted to make sure she was ok with my big old tom cat that weighs 15lbs. Anyway, he and I finally caught up with each other at like 10PM at night and he told me that he wasn't going down to my house. I could tell that he'd been drinking and I was POed. And I mean I was REALLY PI**ED OFF. And I let him know in no uncertain terms that I was not happy with him. And that he had let me down.
Apparently not much later after that, was when he fell. I was the last person to talk to him. We essentially hung up on each other. And now he's dead. I keep telling myself "It's not my fault, I'm not that powerful" but why do I feel so guilty?
Don’t sit there and think “Wow – that’s a really tragic story – I feel sorry for her”! I do NOT want your sympathy. What do I want? I want YOU to get off your ass and get help. Start participating in the forums, start coming to chat or going to your nearest F2F – I don’t care if it’s an hour away. I want you to check into rehab or get into counseling. I want you to STOP DRINKING TODAY. Not tomorrow, not on some “special” day. TODAY.
Do I sound angry? I am angry. I am bat-sh!t crazy angry! This disease has claimed yet another beautiful, intelligent, gentle soul. It has claimed another person that I loved. I am tired of saying goodbye to people I love. This Saturday I have to go watch while his parents say goodbye to their son – one they watched go in and out of the hospital because he refused to go into detox. I get to watch while his nieces, ages 17 and 2 say goodbye to their beloved uncle. While friends and loved ones say goodbye to one of the most talented, funny, loving, kindhearted man I know. And inside, I get the joy of dealing with the guilt of knowing I was the last person he talked to and we argued.
So you have “slipped”? And you get all these replies telling you the important thing is that you got back up again. Well let me tell you something – Michael “slipped” and he will never get back up again. I don’t believe in “slips” – that’s what you do on an icy sidewalk and it negates the seriousness of the situation. It’s a lapse and they don’t have to happen. They are choices. Next time you CHOOSE to lapse – read this post and maybe you’ll make a different choice because you don’t have to be full-on drunk to fall and gash your head open, lose consciousness and bleed to death.
EDUCATE yourself about the signs of relapse. It doesn’t just happen out of the blue. As much as some of us want to think it does, it doesn’t. So read this post to learn more about the stages of relapse. Be prepared for urges! Use my tool in this post or plan your day using things from this post. Understand PAWS and know what it is so that if you start experiencing it, you can deal with it accordingly and not go back to drinking.
And for pity’s sake, don’t be stupid and set yourself up for failure by pushing things too fast. Don’t try to go to parties when you’re on day 3. There will be more parties. Have patience. That’s part of what learning about being in recovery is all about. We’re so used to that instant gratification that this is our very first lesson in patience. A good exercise is to hand write all the Acceptance Statements and after each one, write what it makes you think or feel. It doesn’t matter if it’s positive or negative – believe me, at the beginning, there were some statements I threw raspberries at – this is for your eyes only. Then, once you get 30 days of continuous sobriety, repeat the exercise but don’t look at your original writings until you’ve completed it for a second time. Only after you’ve finished can you compare the two. I think you’ll be surprised at the growth you see.
I apologize if I’m not the normal caring and compassionate Legs you’re used to hearing from. But what you are reading is the cold hard truth about drinking and what it can do to a person and those that love him or her. If you are drunk, you can die in a stupid accident and in a split second, destroy the lives of those you love. Think about that the next time you pick up a drink.
Peace.
Thanks for this post. Ive been reading through a lot of old posts on here today.
Its been "sobering". I am at the one week point of sobriety after a lapse. And I was able to moderate the last time I drank, so there is a tiny voice in my head saying... "everyone who knows you is right, youre not a true alcoholic" Even my boyfriend says that to me, and he's seen me VERY drunk (I was not a daily drinker, however, believe me... it was often enough)...
I could go for a month at a time of not drinking, one time I was pretty easily sober (and not in recovery) for a full six months, and mostly not drinking for a whole YEAR. It was after a break-up and I had to go live with my sober mother, and .... that 6 months/year of sobriety at the age of 38-39 was absolutely WONDERFUL. I had the most blissful moments back then. I was up every day at 5 am. Dancing around the streets with my dog as the sun came up, falling in love with myself again... and... I was FIT AS A FIDDLE.
I felt and looked far younger than my years.
It was so, so, so, good to be "normal". To only drink once in a while. To have no serious repercussions from drinking occasionally.
But thats not what happens usually... That was an unusually fortuitous year. A UNICORN of a year.
I dont KNOW if I am a true alcoholic.
But I can say that this last year I have seen more injuries happen to me while drinking than Ive ever seen in my life. When I joined here two months ago I was basically getting burned, or cut, or badly bruised (one of the three) every single time I drank.
Not to mention I was becoming somewhat violent around others... inflicting violence ON others (slapping people in the face! SO CRAZY!!!! THATS NOT WHO I AM!).... consistently, I am afraid to say.
So...
This post was a good SNAP back into reality.
The fact that I was consistently becoming violent, as well as consistently bleeding, or getting sometimes serious burns (I loved to cook and drink) or bruises...
HELLO. Talk about driving through some serious RED LIGHTS in life.
Each injury, each slap, was a neon sign blinking in red: WARNING, DO NOT PROCEED FURTHER.
This disease makes me sad tonight.
I wont drink. But man my emotions arent very fun these past two days. Thats just honest.