no turning back
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Join Date: Dec 2013
Location: chicago
Posts: 29
no turning back
hey there. name is p. 33-year-old gal from chicago.
i am going to make this as short as possible. basically, i come from a family riddled with alcoholism. my father is a functional alcoholic, my mother's side has various addiction issues.
i typically only drank on the weekends, but when i did, i drank to get drunk. i almost always blacked out and a few times i made poor decisions that placed me in varying degrees of danger.
i am diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder, a darling little disease that i have battled with for 10+ years. but you see, when i drink, the anxiety and all the obsessive thoughts fade away and i am able to enjoy peace. so i continued to drink and drink until it was all dark and still and quiet. only the next 3-4 days i could barely breathe as the anxiety choked the life out of me. i never wanted to face my phone or the people i had been out with. i always feared the worst. it was a nightmare.
this year, after intensive weekly therapy for nearly two years, i found myself off my ocd meds for the first time in ages. and not just functioning, but thriving off the meds. my therapist calls me his poster child. a new job coupled with weight loss - i was kicking a**! well, four days out of week i was kicking a** because the other three were dedicated to drinking and the subsequent nightmare that followed.
eventually it dawned on me that i had a problem. that if i continued to do something that was so harmful to me, on a weekly basis despite ALL the progress i had achieved, that i had a drinking problem. this was a terrifying thing to admit because once i acknowledged it, drinking wasn't as fun anymore because i knew it was wrong for me. i knew it was stupid and i fancy myself something of a brilliant mind. so i had to stop.
my life is built around drinking. especially with my family. a few of them have verbalized that i do not have a problem and insinuated i might behaving a bit hard on myself. but nobody can truly understand the anxiety the day after a binge brings - the days after. and i love my brain and i refuse to damage it further. i have lost nearly 80 pounds since may. i would work out, eat right and push myself to limits, until i drank. than i craved awful foods and ditched my gym routine.
i cried with my therapist knowing i would need to say farewell to alcohol. a mourning of sorts. i will miss the intimate moments a shot with someone brings. the occasional cigarette i would sneak. music always sounded better, laughter sounded brighter, louder. but i know too much to continue.
a few of my friends are on the wagon, most are not. i am trying to figure it all out. the holidays were tough, but i survived. i simply got to the point where i decided that i deserve to be happy. i don't deserve a beer because i worked all week - no, i deserve to wake up happy because i am incredibly worth it.
end scene/rant/introduction.
i am going to make this as short as possible. basically, i come from a family riddled with alcoholism. my father is a functional alcoholic, my mother's side has various addiction issues.
i typically only drank on the weekends, but when i did, i drank to get drunk. i almost always blacked out and a few times i made poor decisions that placed me in varying degrees of danger.
i am diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder, a darling little disease that i have battled with for 10+ years. but you see, when i drink, the anxiety and all the obsessive thoughts fade away and i am able to enjoy peace. so i continued to drink and drink until it was all dark and still and quiet. only the next 3-4 days i could barely breathe as the anxiety choked the life out of me. i never wanted to face my phone or the people i had been out with. i always feared the worst. it was a nightmare.
this year, after intensive weekly therapy for nearly two years, i found myself off my ocd meds for the first time in ages. and not just functioning, but thriving off the meds. my therapist calls me his poster child. a new job coupled with weight loss - i was kicking a**! well, four days out of week i was kicking a** because the other three were dedicated to drinking and the subsequent nightmare that followed.
eventually it dawned on me that i had a problem. that if i continued to do something that was so harmful to me, on a weekly basis despite ALL the progress i had achieved, that i had a drinking problem. this was a terrifying thing to admit because once i acknowledged it, drinking wasn't as fun anymore because i knew it was wrong for me. i knew it was stupid and i fancy myself something of a brilliant mind. so i had to stop.
my life is built around drinking. especially with my family. a few of them have verbalized that i do not have a problem and insinuated i might behaving a bit hard on myself. but nobody can truly understand the anxiety the day after a binge brings - the days after. and i love my brain and i refuse to damage it further. i have lost nearly 80 pounds since may. i would work out, eat right and push myself to limits, until i drank. than i craved awful foods and ditched my gym routine.
i cried with my therapist knowing i would need to say farewell to alcohol. a mourning of sorts. i will miss the intimate moments a shot with someone brings. the occasional cigarette i would sneak. music always sounded better, laughter sounded brighter, louder. but i know too much to continue.
a few of my friends are on the wagon, most are not. i am trying to figure it all out. the holidays were tough, but i survived. i simply got to the point where i decided that i deserve to be happy. i don't deserve a beer because i worked all week - no, i deserve to wake up happy because i am incredibly worth it.
end scene/rant/introduction.
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