A Small Part of My Story
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Join Date: Aug 2008
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A Small Part of My Story
My story….
I have done these a lot… I have different versions for different audiences… they are all my story. But, they are different parts of ‘my story’. I have stories about growing up in the hills of North Carolina… stories about traveling the world and Europe with my father. I have stories about my abuse as a child. I have stories about growing up the child of sexual abuse. My story about goining a Christian cult…I have stories about being an orphan and put in states custody at the age of 15. I have stories about teenage pregnancy. I have stories about college. I have stories about falling in love with an amazing woman… and going through a marriage that was riddled with co-dependency and my first signs that I could be an abuser as well as abused. I have stories about losing my mother… losing myself shortly after… my story about heavy drug use… my story about S&M… my stories about meeting my husband… my story about maintaining a success work career and being a stellar student.
But, this is none of those stories.
This is my story about my relationship with alcohol.
So, there wasn’t a time in childhood that I was not surrounded by drinking. My uncle was locked up in prison most of his adult life for crimes that were committed while he was drinking.
My mother always had a drinking problem for as long as I can remember. She had me when she was 16 and growing up in the hills of North Carolina that was very common. We were not only poor. We were dirt poor and most of our income came from the state or federal government. It was a life that I always pledged I would not live by. I refused. To me that life felt like ‘failure’. But, back to my mother. She liked to drink for her it was a release from her current life and situation. She would keep drinking almost up to the day she died. She was 49 and had stage 4 ovarian cancer. I was 30.
Up to that point in life. I don’t think I had a drinking ‘problem’. I would drink on the weekends and sometimes I would be mean. But, never abusive to people around me. And, I never drank more then once or twice a month. I was married (not legally) to an amazing woman whom I was deeply in love with and who worshipped me. However, she also enabled me as I did her. That is another story. End the end when my mother passed away I went off the deep end.
I became distant from my wife. Distant from the ones who loved me the most. I had two amazing and beautiful brothers who were 16 and 17 and also losing the only female influence in their life. (I had not lived with them growing up… I was put into foster care as a teenager… yet and still another story.) My marriage feel apart because six weeks after my mothers death my wife told me I needed to “stop using my mother as an excuse…). My drinking started alittle before that. I learned that indeed not only could I be mean. But, I could be physically abusive to someone and not feel sorrow, regret, for it until the next day. This all contributed to the downfall of my marriage.
I left my life in Atlanta and moved to Texas to help my brothers and my father through the transition of losing my mother. In truth I think I also moved because I needed to lose myself for awhile. I had been in a relationship since I was 21 and I was 30. I had no idea who I was or who doing for the longest time. I ended up living in Austin (about an hour from my families house) and dating someone who was a heavy drug user. For three weeks I went on a coke beige. In those three weeks… the memories I have are fuzzy and very surreal. A lot of my memories from that time I have lost. But, that is okay. I am sure I wouldn’t want to remember them anyway. But, in the end I made the decision that I could not lose myself to this drug. I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and I quit. Cold turkey… that is the only hard drug I have ever done… other then smoking weed…
While in Texas I lived the single life. I was out at the bars every weekend. I would sometimes drink to much to drive… but, I did anyway… (that has always been a problem.). I was unhappy with my life in Texas it was about my family and I had no friends and no support system. I made the decision to move back to Atlanta. I came back to a wonderful job that loved me and had helped me through the process of losing my mother and were very supportive.
Back in Atlanta I focused on my career. I started earning close to 100K dollars at the age of 32. The AMAZING thing is that my work life has NEVER suffered from my drinking. I would always get up and go into work. I would always guarantee that my living standards were well above what I had in my childhood. I have always been an over achiever in school, social groups, and fundraising.
Now I am at a point in my life and I am realizing that I have always been a social drinker. I have not ever wanted to drink in the middle of the day at work. I don’t feel alcohol calling my name when I am doing something that is not related to that.
My problem is that once I start drinking it is hard for me stop. And, recently while I have been at home I have started sneaking drinks. I always think I can drink more then I really can. And, in truth I can not. I think at 2 that 3 will be enough.. at 4 I think that 5 is enough. And, god help my husband if I don’t get my way. This past Sunday we got kicked out of our favorite bar because he was playing poker and I wanted to go home. I threw a cup across the bar and at the wall. I then got in the car and while he was driving I tried to take the stirring wheel from him, I hit him, I hit the wind shield. We got home the fight continued. I hit him one good time and he slapped the **** out of me. We really did enable each other. And, the next day I woke up… and I cried… because I know this is going to tear us apart. I don’t want to become my mother. I don’t want to have to drink to have a good time. I don’t want to be the person who is such an ******* that my friends don’t want to be around me.
So, this is day three.
And, I am taking it one day at a time.
Thanks for reading and listening.
Saliena
I have done these a lot… I have different versions for different audiences… they are all my story. But, they are different parts of ‘my story’. I have stories about growing up in the hills of North Carolina… stories about traveling the world and Europe with my father. I have stories about my abuse as a child. I have stories about growing up the child of sexual abuse. My story about goining a Christian cult…I have stories about being an orphan and put in states custody at the age of 15. I have stories about teenage pregnancy. I have stories about college. I have stories about falling in love with an amazing woman… and going through a marriage that was riddled with co-dependency and my first signs that I could be an abuser as well as abused. I have stories about losing my mother… losing myself shortly after… my story about heavy drug use… my story about S&M… my stories about meeting my husband… my story about maintaining a success work career and being a stellar student.
But, this is none of those stories.
This is my story about my relationship with alcohol.
So, there wasn’t a time in childhood that I was not surrounded by drinking. My uncle was locked up in prison most of his adult life for crimes that were committed while he was drinking.
My mother always had a drinking problem for as long as I can remember. She had me when she was 16 and growing up in the hills of North Carolina that was very common. We were not only poor. We were dirt poor and most of our income came from the state or federal government. It was a life that I always pledged I would not live by. I refused. To me that life felt like ‘failure’. But, back to my mother. She liked to drink for her it was a release from her current life and situation. She would keep drinking almost up to the day she died. She was 49 and had stage 4 ovarian cancer. I was 30.
Up to that point in life. I don’t think I had a drinking ‘problem’. I would drink on the weekends and sometimes I would be mean. But, never abusive to people around me. And, I never drank more then once or twice a month. I was married (not legally) to an amazing woman whom I was deeply in love with and who worshipped me. However, she also enabled me as I did her. That is another story. End the end when my mother passed away I went off the deep end.
I became distant from my wife. Distant from the ones who loved me the most. I had two amazing and beautiful brothers who were 16 and 17 and also losing the only female influence in their life. (I had not lived with them growing up… I was put into foster care as a teenager… yet and still another story.) My marriage feel apart because six weeks after my mothers death my wife told me I needed to “stop using my mother as an excuse…). My drinking started alittle before that. I learned that indeed not only could I be mean. But, I could be physically abusive to someone and not feel sorrow, regret, for it until the next day. This all contributed to the downfall of my marriage.
I left my life in Atlanta and moved to Texas to help my brothers and my father through the transition of losing my mother. In truth I think I also moved because I needed to lose myself for awhile. I had been in a relationship since I was 21 and I was 30. I had no idea who I was or who doing for the longest time. I ended up living in Austin (about an hour from my families house) and dating someone who was a heavy drug user. For three weeks I went on a coke beige. In those three weeks… the memories I have are fuzzy and very surreal. A lot of my memories from that time I have lost. But, that is okay. I am sure I wouldn’t want to remember them anyway. But, in the end I made the decision that I could not lose myself to this drug. I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and I quit. Cold turkey… that is the only hard drug I have ever done… other then smoking weed…
While in Texas I lived the single life. I was out at the bars every weekend. I would sometimes drink to much to drive… but, I did anyway… (that has always been a problem.). I was unhappy with my life in Texas it was about my family and I had no friends and no support system. I made the decision to move back to Atlanta. I came back to a wonderful job that loved me and had helped me through the process of losing my mother and were very supportive.
Back in Atlanta I focused on my career. I started earning close to 100K dollars at the age of 32. The AMAZING thing is that my work life has NEVER suffered from my drinking. I would always get up and go into work. I would always guarantee that my living standards were well above what I had in my childhood. I have always been an over achiever in school, social groups, and fundraising.
Now I am at a point in my life and I am realizing that I have always been a social drinker. I have not ever wanted to drink in the middle of the day at work. I don’t feel alcohol calling my name when I am doing something that is not related to that.
My problem is that once I start drinking it is hard for me stop. And, recently while I have been at home I have started sneaking drinks. I always think I can drink more then I really can. And, in truth I can not. I think at 2 that 3 will be enough.. at 4 I think that 5 is enough. And, god help my husband if I don’t get my way. This past Sunday we got kicked out of our favorite bar because he was playing poker and I wanted to go home. I threw a cup across the bar and at the wall. I then got in the car and while he was driving I tried to take the stirring wheel from him, I hit him, I hit the wind shield. We got home the fight continued. I hit him one good time and he slapped the **** out of me. We really did enable each other. And, the next day I woke up… and I cried… because I know this is going to tear us apart. I don’t want to become my mother. I don’t want to have to drink to have a good time. I don’t want to be the person who is such an ******* that my friends don’t want to be around me.
So, this is day three.
And, I am taking it one day at a time.
Thanks for reading and listening.
Saliena
and Welcome to SR! There is a lot of support here-Keep posting
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