My Drinking History..
Emanon89
Thread Starter
Join Date: Nov 2012
Posts: 1
My Drinking History..
I am new to Recovery and new to acknowledging my alcoholism. I wrote this as catharsis and to see my life on paper. Thank you for reading it. Sorry for the terrible grammar mistakes.
That first party- I remember it clearly. The anticipation, the couple dollars thrown in for some cheap imitation alcohol that we all thought was the nectar of the gods. I was 17, and ready. It wasn’t my first drink by any means, but that’s when it started. Keystone light-five, maybe six. I just remember galavanting around the house with my friends, spilled alcohol on my shirt. Girls were running around giving cheek kisses and boys were trying their hardest. I fell asleep on an armchair-or tried to. I was ashamed and wanted to go home. I should have known then.
College came and it started again. Except now I was smoking pot too. Every day. Twenty dollars for a gram of ****** weed that some kid bought off a dealer who came in a POS 1998 Saturn behind the dorms. “It’s good **** from Philly or Newark, might be some pixie dust on there too, if you’re lucky” He would smile-stupid little girl. I would smoke the weed when I couldn’t get the alcohol. Right out in the open with my other 19 year old friends. Like we were cool. People would come over tripping on acid or shrooms, talking about blue lights flashing in front of their dilated pupils. I would snicker, thinking I will never be that messed up. The guilt didn’t set in as much with pot, mainly I just felt hungry and dry-mouthed the next day-no hangover!
I discovered vodka and rum. Vodka-the clear liquid that could be mixed with virtually everthing-or nothing at all. I would take straight shots of $8 dollar vodka just to “get started”-knowing it wouldn’t take long anyway. I was always really skinny-feeling drunk after two shots of Vladimir vodka. I remember the first time I really blacked out my freshman year. We went to my friend’s dorm on campus and had a few bottles of liquor. We took shots and mixed the vodka with some fruit punch or iced tea. I was obliterated, having to be walked to the bathroom numerous times to relieve myself. My one friend got really bad too. The next day I was hugging the toilet, it felt amazing to get the poison out, but terrible to feel the shame. I couldn’t move for two days. I had no appetite and couldn’t do my homework. It was awful. I had to postpone a speech I was giving because I was too hung-over to write it…lying to my speech professor that I was sick-not from my own doing. I started making excuses and manipulating people to be able to drink.
My sophomore year of college brought upon all new struggles. My roommate, who happened to also be one of my dear friends and I had a love for flavored rum-Malibu coconut rum to be exact. We would mix it with green iced tea, calling it “calculus textbook” so as not to be suspicious to the RA across the hall. My mini-fridge constantly had one sleek white bottle. We would sometimes take a shot before dinner-giggling and stealing glances at each-other thinking we had everyone fooled. We had matching cups-mine green-hers pink-and she would come in and slam her cup on the mini-fridge when she was ready to drink. I would smile and my stomach got butterflies. We would sip it-or sometimes I would chug it when I grew inpatient. I loved being drunk. I loved how it made me feel, I loved letting go, and I loved how I didn’t care what happened. I was on my game when I was drunk. Liquor drunk was my ****.
Not much changed when I turned 21 the following Spring. I was older in my grade so many of my friends were still underage. Now it was just easier to have that bottle in my fridge. I started buying for my friends-after all drinking loves company. I started blacking out more-waking up with my room being a mess always praying I still had my ID and phone on me. I would hear stories about my actions, things I said, how I got angry. The last one scared me. They would say my mood changed in a second. An off-hand comment taken too literally. I knew it was true. I would get lonely and depressed when I drank-blaming it on others. I couldn’t shake it until I sobered up. Once I got angry-there went the ballgame. I would always say “this will stop after college, I couldn’t possibly continue this”…
That summer was the start of my binge drinking. I had a suicidal episode four days into my second semester of college and returned home to take classes at the local university. I kept smoking pot, and kept being depressed. I thought my life was just going through the motions, never wanting to rock the boat. I didn’t make friends and I didn’t care to. That summer I went through a crisis. I wanted anything except college. PeaceCorps, Military, Work Force, anything except what the world wanted from me. I was days from enlisting in the Navy-the promise of travel and money was extremely glamorous. I decided to go back to college and study social work. Believing my life experiences would allow a unique perspective for others.
My friend got an apartment about fifteen minutes from my house, and at the time I was working a 7-3 factory shift during the week. So the weekends were my time. I would buy myself and all my friends’ alcohol. That was when Four Lokos were prevalent. And we drank them-hard. One night I drank two four lokos and ended up bawling my eyes out on a stoop outside with one of my sober friends trying to make me stable. That amount of alcohol in someone my size-or anyone really was potentially lethal. They were banned five months later. I drank every weekend. I started getting yelled at by my parents for consistently coming home on Saturday mornings and sleeping all day and being moody. I told them I was young and it didn’t happen that often.
Well my junior and last year of college was my worst. All my friends were 21 then and we went hard. House parties Thursday-Saturday. Bar Friday-Sat, even Thursday nights. “Pre-game” became a 9:30pm ritual. Dinner. Music. Pre-Game. Blackout. That was my weekend. Whether we went to a house party and I had seven beers or some unknown quantity of “jungle-juice” consisting of cheap liquor mixed with fruit punch one thing was for certain-I was getting hammered. I partied at the same house for literally 10 months and did not know the two occupants names because I was always drunk when we met. I would avoid talking to them for fear that they would realize it. My friend and I would notoriously show up already hammered-having pre-gamed or been to another party first. I would find myself saying inappropriate things and trying hard with some girls I liked.
I would always leave unsatisfied and even more lonely than before. So many times I went back to my dorm room extremely depressed to the point of suicidal ideation. I was in weekly counseling at the time, and would express these concerns to my therapist. Voicing how I wanted to stop and I would cut back. I remember distinctly saying I would strictly stop drinking liquor, thinking that would change my course. I would leave the session feeling good about my decision to cut back. Flashes of the gym and watching movies at the old theater in town made me realize there is much more to life. But when I returned to my apartment on that Thursday night my mouth would water at the thought of drinking alcohol.
I graduated, and a year early at that. I had to complete summer classes but they allowed me to walk in the May Commencement Ceremony. The night before the campus was dead and my roommate had gone home for the summer. One of my good friends had stayed however and she contacted me to come out with her. I texted my roommate asking her advice, and she warned me not to get too drunk before my graduation and to stay in. I really contemplated it, but went out anyway. We went to the local Pub, shot some pool and had a pitcher of beer between us. I felt good, and I was alright with stopping then. But I couldn’t. We got another one, and next thing you know I am wasted. I only have flashes. I somehow ended up in my dorm room. And at 8:30am woke up with absolutely no recollection of the night before. A panic went through me as I realized I was graduating that very day. My mom, dad, step-dad, and sister were coming fresh-faced and happy to see me. And here I was a drunken slobbering hung-over mess. I puked immediately, and it felt really good.
Then I puked again. I had a roaring headache. My two friends came over to get ready. My face was chalky and pale, my skin dry. They both told me I drunk-dialed them and I had been crying. I was mortified. I was so mad at myself I couldn’t handle it. My parents came, and they were all energy and fun and excitement, and all I could think about was how much I needed to hurl again. And I did. While in line to walk into the gym I walked straight to the bathroom and hurled. I felt so ashamed. I walked back feeling better, my friends laughing at me for my stupidity. I laughed back. We sat down.
Halfway through the name calling, I stood up in front of easily 3,000 people walked to the bathroom and puked again. Some ladies gave me wet paper towels for my face and expressed their concern. I said I ate something bad the night before. I walked back and shook my head at my friends, unable to express the sheer disgrace I felt in myself. But as it was my turn I turned on my strong face and smiled really big for my family and the professors, classmates, and my therapist-who I hope to God did not notice. It was then on the drive home from my graduation that I promised myself I would be better. That if I can let alcohol get in the way of my life in such a way, it was time to re-evaluate.
I did. For a time. I drank less. Still scarred from the graduation from hell. That summer I lived right off campus, doing my internship and taking classes. We would get beers after work sometimes, and occasionally have some more on the weekends, but nothing like when I was in school.
I was moving to Ohio to work . I had my graduation party, and to my great surprise had about six beers and did not get sick or hung-over. Thirteen days later I moved to Ohio. Two weeks later, after having made a really good friend from University I blacked out. She was the DD that night and I was ready to let loose in my new state. I had liquor, and lots of it. I made a fool of myself in front of these new people. I woke up and missed out on a wall rising ceremony for the housing project I was working on. I couldn’t find my cell phone-terrified I left at the bar. I couldn’t believe that my new job, my new life, and my new start was tainted once again by my binge drinking. I started seeing this girl who did not drink and embraced a very healthy lifestyle. She ate healthy, did not drink much, and exercised. I envied her for that, and often found it boring. I wanted her to let loose and get a cheeseburger with me or drink a few beers with chicken wings. I hated her because I wanted to be her.
I went home for nine days during the Christmas holiday and my friends and I decided to go to the club in my area. We all piled into my friend’s van and I was looking forward to a night of sheer drinking. I went downstairs with my best friend to the dollar drink hour. Every drink was one dollar. And to top it all off, I knew the bartender. We got served, and quickly. I ended up having 10-11 mixed drinks during that hour period. I should have had one. I blacked out. I ended up with a drink at the end of the night from some strange guy I did not even know.
We went upstairs because we had not even danced in the club yet, but my friend and I were too drunk. I went to the bathroom and somehow between the bathroom and the club I dropped my ID. I freaked out and was going nuts. I kept asking the bouncers where it was and kept reaching into the cash register at the entrance at the other ID’s they had found. I was belligerent. Yelling and carrying on. The bouncer told us we could either go in the club or leave.
Our friends decided to leave. My friend eventually found my ID and all was well. Until I woke up and realized I should have had my stomach pumped and narrowly missed getting arrested. I stayed in bed for two days with nothing short of alcohol poisoning. I was disgusted. And my family was too. I vowed to change.
There were two-three times that I blacked out for those 9 months I lived in Ohio. Once was New Years Eve, and I ended up driving home drunk and high to my house. I was/am avidly against drunk driving, but in that moment I could not stand to be where I was any longer. I prayed to God that a cop wouldn’t stop me. As I pulled into my driveway I realized how stupid I was. I climbed into bed and bawled my eyes out until I fell asleep.
I ended up moving back home in May of 2012, and I wasn’t very interested in drinking too much. I was unemployed and needed a job desperately and did not want to hurt my chances. My friends and I would go out and get drunk, but I think I only got really wasted a few times. I would pass up opportunities because I had to hit the pavement looking for a job.
Well my brother’s wedding came up. He and his wife and their European friends came over to America ready for a party. I delivered a kick-ass reading at the church, walked off the stage and all I could think about was the beer I was going to have in less than 20 minutes. And I had a lot of beers. I was blitzed by the time dinner rolled around but had enough sense to eat a lot to at-least soak some up. My mom had arranged to have us stay in hotel rooms that night with an open bar until 2am. So we all piled into a van and headed to the open bar. I kept drinking along with my siblings and inevitably turned. My sisters were talking to some guys and I got angry about it and was being rude and inappropriate. I embarrassed myself in front of my brother’s friends and my sisters. I went to bed and woke up the next morning feeling stupid.
That was four months ago. And yesterday-November 11, 2012- I realized I was an alcoholic.
My friend and I went to visit my friend at her college. I had been before but my friend hadn’t. I knew what to expect. Drinking and more drinking. As soon as we got there we were informed we were going to a bar to watch a game and drink some beers. I was down. That 2.5 hour drive made me thirsty. We got a beer tube-filled with 180 ounces of beer. I had two cups, or three? I ate some chicken tenders and fries, laughed, and went back to her apartment. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and nursed it for about an hour before we left for the bar. We got there and ordered these liquor pitches aptly named “monkey boys”. They make you act like a primate, let me tell you. It was several kinds of alcohol and three times delicious. I guzzled mine through a straw and loved every gulp. I danced like I hadn’t in years. I let go. And it felt amazing.
Then I lost my ID. I was bending down to get something and it fell out of my pocket. I was frantic. It had happened before and I was almost arrested. I flew off the handle. I was inconsolable. I got down on my knees and looked under the booth, under the table, in the bathroom, it was nowhere. I got my hand stamped and walked outside. I was fuming. There were cops across the way calming down some delirious guy and his girlfriend. I scoffed at them. I called my friend to no answer. Went back in and looked again-nothing. The bouncer tried to be nice and I bitched him out, along with my friends. I was a walking time-bomb. I literally would have punched anyone given a bad word. But my friend found it. We hugged and I calmed down a little. I came home and ate pumpkin pie and half a tub of cool-whip and passed out.
I woke up and felt okay. I felt queasy and my head hurt but unlike my two friends did not throw up. I drank some water and laughed and looked at pictures from last night. Then it hit. I went to the toilet and puked up stomach acid. And I felt like ****. I took a shower and felt even worse. I laid in bed as my friends laughed in the living room. I wanted to be home, dreading the drive home. We went to a restaurant and I knew from the get-go it was not going to happen for me. We pulled in and I walked slowly into the restaurant.
We got seated and I drank some of the delicious peach tea. I got up walked over to the bathroom and promptly threw it up. As I sat crouched over the Olive Garden toilet I thought to myself, this needs to stop. I walked to the table and ate some lettuce and bread and apologized to my friends and went and sat in my car for the duration of their stay at the restaurant. Everyone talks of their “eye-opening moments” in life. This was mine. It wasn’t two four lokos, ruining my graduation, driving drunk, or being an emotional/angry drunk-it was that at 23 with a college degree and a job, I still could not overcome my inability to control my drinking. I called my friend who does not drink very often and told that I felt like **** and this was a low point. She told me I should take a break. I agreed. But I meant forever.
My friends came back with my untouched food in to-go boxes and I apologized profusely. They did not seem to mad. I was furious. I didn’t think I was going to be able to drive home. But I could not stand one more failure. I sucked it up. And that car ride turned out to be the one that I will look back on as the game changer-the life saver. I opened up to my friend about my alcoholism, telling him everything. The shame, how I can’t stop, and how I hate who I am when I drink. He was lovely and supportive of my stopping. And it felt really good. I couldn’t even believe an hour prior I was hesitant to tell him-as if me sitting in my car outside olive garden too hung-over to eat like a civilized person isn’t evidence enough.
I came home and told my parents and my sister. My sister immediately laughed and blew it off, walking away with her boyfriend. I remained mature and told my parents I’ve tried stopping before but failed. They said they would support me 100% and maybe I should look into an AA meeting. I was beaming on the inside. I was so worried they would judge me. It has been more than 24 hours now and I have thought about alcohol a lot. I got thirsty a lot. But I want to quit. I want to do well. And I want to overcome this. And I will.
I will always be recovering. But I will never stop the fight.
That first party- I remember it clearly. The anticipation, the couple dollars thrown in for some cheap imitation alcohol that we all thought was the nectar of the gods. I was 17, and ready. It wasn’t my first drink by any means, but that’s when it started. Keystone light-five, maybe six. I just remember galavanting around the house with my friends, spilled alcohol on my shirt. Girls were running around giving cheek kisses and boys were trying their hardest. I fell asleep on an armchair-or tried to. I was ashamed and wanted to go home. I should have known then.
College came and it started again. Except now I was smoking pot too. Every day. Twenty dollars for a gram of ****** weed that some kid bought off a dealer who came in a POS 1998 Saturn behind the dorms. “It’s good **** from Philly or Newark, might be some pixie dust on there too, if you’re lucky” He would smile-stupid little girl. I would smoke the weed when I couldn’t get the alcohol. Right out in the open with my other 19 year old friends. Like we were cool. People would come over tripping on acid or shrooms, talking about blue lights flashing in front of their dilated pupils. I would snicker, thinking I will never be that messed up. The guilt didn’t set in as much with pot, mainly I just felt hungry and dry-mouthed the next day-no hangover!
I discovered vodka and rum. Vodka-the clear liquid that could be mixed with virtually everthing-or nothing at all. I would take straight shots of $8 dollar vodka just to “get started”-knowing it wouldn’t take long anyway. I was always really skinny-feeling drunk after two shots of Vladimir vodka. I remember the first time I really blacked out my freshman year. We went to my friend’s dorm on campus and had a few bottles of liquor. We took shots and mixed the vodka with some fruit punch or iced tea. I was obliterated, having to be walked to the bathroom numerous times to relieve myself. My one friend got really bad too. The next day I was hugging the toilet, it felt amazing to get the poison out, but terrible to feel the shame. I couldn’t move for two days. I had no appetite and couldn’t do my homework. It was awful. I had to postpone a speech I was giving because I was too hung-over to write it…lying to my speech professor that I was sick-not from my own doing. I started making excuses and manipulating people to be able to drink.
My sophomore year of college brought upon all new struggles. My roommate, who happened to also be one of my dear friends and I had a love for flavored rum-Malibu coconut rum to be exact. We would mix it with green iced tea, calling it “calculus textbook” so as not to be suspicious to the RA across the hall. My mini-fridge constantly had one sleek white bottle. We would sometimes take a shot before dinner-giggling and stealing glances at each-other thinking we had everyone fooled. We had matching cups-mine green-hers pink-and she would come in and slam her cup on the mini-fridge when she was ready to drink. I would smile and my stomach got butterflies. We would sip it-or sometimes I would chug it when I grew inpatient. I loved being drunk. I loved how it made me feel, I loved letting go, and I loved how I didn’t care what happened. I was on my game when I was drunk. Liquor drunk was my ****.
Not much changed when I turned 21 the following Spring. I was older in my grade so many of my friends were still underage. Now it was just easier to have that bottle in my fridge. I started buying for my friends-after all drinking loves company. I started blacking out more-waking up with my room being a mess always praying I still had my ID and phone on me. I would hear stories about my actions, things I said, how I got angry. The last one scared me. They would say my mood changed in a second. An off-hand comment taken too literally. I knew it was true. I would get lonely and depressed when I drank-blaming it on others. I couldn’t shake it until I sobered up. Once I got angry-there went the ballgame. I would always say “this will stop after college, I couldn’t possibly continue this”…
That summer was the start of my binge drinking. I had a suicidal episode four days into my second semester of college and returned home to take classes at the local university. I kept smoking pot, and kept being depressed. I thought my life was just going through the motions, never wanting to rock the boat. I didn’t make friends and I didn’t care to. That summer I went through a crisis. I wanted anything except college. PeaceCorps, Military, Work Force, anything except what the world wanted from me. I was days from enlisting in the Navy-the promise of travel and money was extremely glamorous. I decided to go back to college and study social work. Believing my life experiences would allow a unique perspective for others.
My friend got an apartment about fifteen minutes from my house, and at the time I was working a 7-3 factory shift during the week. So the weekends were my time. I would buy myself and all my friends’ alcohol. That was when Four Lokos were prevalent. And we drank them-hard. One night I drank two four lokos and ended up bawling my eyes out on a stoop outside with one of my sober friends trying to make me stable. That amount of alcohol in someone my size-or anyone really was potentially lethal. They were banned five months later. I drank every weekend. I started getting yelled at by my parents for consistently coming home on Saturday mornings and sleeping all day and being moody. I told them I was young and it didn’t happen that often.
Well my junior and last year of college was my worst. All my friends were 21 then and we went hard. House parties Thursday-Saturday. Bar Friday-Sat, even Thursday nights. “Pre-game” became a 9:30pm ritual. Dinner. Music. Pre-Game. Blackout. That was my weekend. Whether we went to a house party and I had seven beers or some unknown quantity of “jungle-juice” consisting of cheap liquor mixed with fruit punch one thing was for certain-I was getting hammered. I partied at the same house for literally 10 months and did not know the two occupants names because I was always drunk when we met. I would avoid talking to them for fear that they would realize it. My friend and I would notoriously show up already hammered-having pre-gamed or been to another party first. I would find myself saying inappropriate things and trying hard with some girls I liked.
I would always leave unsatisfied and even more lonely than before. So many times I went back to my dorm room extremely depressed to the point of suicidal ideation. I was in weekly counseling at the time, and would express these concerns to my therapist. Voicing how I wanted to stop and I would cut back. I remember distinctly saying I would strictly stop drinking liquor, thinking that would change my course. I would leave the session feeling good about my decision to cut back. Flashes of the gym and watching movies at the old theater in town made me realize there is much more to life. But when I returned to my apartment on that Thursday night my mouth would water at the thought of drinking alcohol.
I graduated, and a year early at that. I had to complete summer classes but they allowed me to walk in the May Commencement Ceremony. The night before the campus was dead and my roommate had gone home for the summer. One of my good friends had stayed however and she contacted me to come out with her. I texted my roommate asking her advice, and she warned me not to get too drunk before my graduation and to stay in. I really contemplated it, but went out anyway. We went to the local Pub, shot some pool and had a pitcher of beer between us. I felt good, and I was alright with stopping then. But I couldn’t. We got another one, and next thing you know I am wasted. I only have flashes. I somehow ended up in my dorm room. And at 8:30am woke up with absolutely no recollection of the night before. A panic went through me as I realized I was graduating that very day. My mom, dad, step-dad, and sister were coming fresh-faced and happy to see me. And here I was a drunken slobbering hung-over mess. I puked immediately, and it felt really good.
Then I puked again. I had a roaring headache. My two friends came over to get ready. My face was chalky and pale, my skin dry. They both told me I drunk-dialed them and I had been crying. I was mortified. I was so mad at myself I couldn’t handle it. My parents came, and they were all energy and fun and excitement, and all I could think about was how much I needed to hurl again. And I did. While in line to walk into the gym I walked straight to the bathroom and hurled. I felt so ashamed. I walked back feeling better, my friends laughing at me for my stupidity. I laughed back. We sat down.
Halfway through the name calling, I stood up in front of easily 3,000 people walked to the bathroom and puked again. Some ladies gave me wet paper towels for my face and expressed their concern. I said I ate something bad the night before. I walked back and shook my head at my friends, unable to express the sheer disgrace I felt in myself. But as it was my turn I turned on my strong face and smiled really big for my family and the professors, classmates, and my therapist-who I hope to God did not notice. It was then on the drive home from my graduation that I promised myself I would be better. That if I can let alcohol get in the way of my life in such a way, it was time to re-evaluate.
I did. For a time. I drank less. Still scarred from the graduation from hell. That summer I lived right off campus, doing my internship and taking classes. We would get beers after work sometimes, and occasionally have some more on the weekends, but nothing like when I was in school.
I was moving to Ohio to work . I had my graduation party, and to my great surprise had about six beers and did not get sick or hung-over. Thirteen days later I moved to Ohio. Two weeks later, after having made a really good friend from University I blacked out. She was the DD that night and I was ready to let loose in my new state. I had liquor, and lots of it. I made a fool of myself in front of these new people. I woke up and missed out on a wall rising ceremony for the housing project I was working on. I couldn’t find my cell phone-terrified I left at the bar. I couldn’t believe that my new job, my new life, and my new start was tainted once again by my binge drinking. I started seeing this girl who did not drink and embraced a very healthy lifestyle. She ate healthy, did not drink much, and exercised. I envied her for that, and often found it boring. I wanted her to let loose and get a cheeseburger with me or drink a few beers with chicken wings. I hated her because I wanted to be her.
I went home for nine days during the Christmas holiday and my friends and I decided to go to the club in my area. We all piled into my friend’s van and I was looking forward to a night of sheer drinking. I went downstairs with my best friend to the dollar drink hour. Every drink was one dollar. And to top it all off, I knew the bartender. We got served, and quickly. I ended up having 10-11 mixed drinks during that hour period. I should have had one. I blacked out. I ended up with a drink at the end of the night from some strange guy I did not even know.
We went upstairs because we had not even danced in the club yet, but my friend and I were too drunk. I went to the bathroom and somehow between the bathroom and the club I dropped my ID. I freaked out and was going nuts. I kept asking the bouncers where it was and kept reaching into the cash register at the entrance at the other ID’s they had found. I was belligerent. Yelling and carrying on. The bouncer told us we could either go in the club or leave.
Our friends decided to leave. My friend eventually found my ID and all was well. Until I woke up and realized I should have had my stomach pumped and narrowly missed getting arrested. I stayed in bed for two days with nothing short of alcohol poisoning. I was disgusted. And my family was too. I vowed to change.
There were two-three times that I blacked out for those 9 months I lived in Ohio. Once was New Years Eve, and I ended up driving home drunk and high to my house. I was/am avidly against drunk driving, but in that moment I could not stand to be where I was any longer. I prayed to God that a cop wouldn’t stop me. As I pulled into my driveway I realized how stupid I was. I climbed into bed and bawled my eyes out until I fell asleep.
I ended up moving back home in May of 2012, and I wasn’t very interested in drinking too much. I was unemployed and needed a job desperately and did not want to hurt my chances. My friends and I would go out and get drunk, but I think I only got really wasted a few times. I would pass up opportunities because I had to hit the pavement looking for a job.
Well my brother’s wedding came up. He and his wife and their European friends came over to America ready for a party. I delivered a kick-ass reading at the church, walked off the stage and all I could think about was the beer I was going to have in less than 20 minutes. And I had a lot of beers. I was blitzed by the time dinner rolled around but had enough sense to eat a lot to at-least soak some up. My mom had arranged to have us stay in hotel rooms that night with an open bar until 2am. So we all piled into a van and headed to the open bar. I kept drinking along with my siblings and inevitably turned. My sisters were talking to some guys and I got angry about it and was being rude and inappropriate. I embarrassed myself in front of my brother’s friends and my sisters. I went to bed and woke up the next morning feeling stupid.
That was four months ago. And yesterday-November 11, 2012- I realized I was an alcoholic.
My friend and I went to visit my friend at her college. I had been before but my friend hadn’t. I knew what to expect. Drinking and more drinking. As soon as we got there we were informed we were going to a bar to watch a game and drink some beers. I was down. That 2.5 hour drive made me thirsty. We got a beer tube-filled with 180 ounces of beer. I had two cups, or three? I ate some chicken tenders and fries, laughed, and went back to her apartment. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and nursed it for about an hour before we left for the bar. We got there and ordered these liquor pitches aptly named “monkey boys”. They make you act like a primate, let me tell you. It was several kinds of alcohol and three times delicious. I guzzled mine through a straw and loved every gulp. I danced like I hadn’t in years. I let go. And it felt amazing.
Then I lost my ID. I was bending down to get something and it fell out of my pocket. I was frantic. It had happened before and I was almost arrested. I flew off the handle. I was inconsolable. I got down on my knees and looked under the booth, under the table, in the bathroom, it was nowhere. I got my hand stamped and walked outside. I was fuming. There were cops across the way calming down some delirious guy and his girlfriend. I scoffed at them. I called my friend to no answer. Went back in and looked again-nothing. The bouncer tried to be nice and I bitched him out, along with my friends. I was a walking time-bomb. I literally would have punched anyone given a bad word. But my friend found it. We hugged and I calmed down a little. I came home and ate pumpkin pie and half a tub of cool-whip and passed out.
I woke up and felt okay. I felt queasy and my head hurt but unlike my two friends did not throw up. I drank some water and laughed and looked at pictures from last night. Then it hit. I went to the toilet and puked up stomach acid. And I felt like ****. I took a shower and felt even worse. I laid in bed as my friends laughed in the living room. I wanted to be home, dreading the drive home. We went to a restaurant and I knew from the get-go it was not going to happen for me. We pulled in and I walked slowly into the restaurant.
We got seated and I drank some of the delicious peach tea. I got up walked over to the bathroom and promptly threw it up. As I sat crouched over the Olive Garden toilet I thought to myself, this needs to stop. I walked to the table and ate some lettuce and bread and apologized to my friends and went and sat in my car for the duration of their stay at the restaurant. Everyone talks of their “eye-opening moments” in life. This was mine. It wasn’t two four lokos, ruining my graduation, driving drunk, or being an emotional/angry drunk-it was that at 23 with a college degree and a job, I still could not overcome my inability to control my drinking. I called my friend who does not drink very often and told that I felt like **** and this was a low point. She told me I should take a break. I agreed. But I meant forever.
My friends came back with my untouched food in to-go boxes and I apologized profusely. They did not seem to mad. I was furious. I didn’t think I was going to be able to drive home. But I could not stand one more failure. I sucked it up. And that car ride turned out to be the one that I will look back on as the game changer-the life saver. I opened up to my friend about my alcoholism, telling him everything. The shame, how I can’t stop, and how I hate who I am when I drink. He was lovely and supportive of my stopping. And it felt really good. I couldn’t even believe an hour prior I was hesitant to tell him-as if me sitting in my car outside olive garden too hung-over to eat like a civilized person isn’t evidence enough.
I came home and told my parents and my sister. My sister immediately laughed and blew it off, walking away with her boyfriend. I remained mature and told my parents I’ve tried stopping before but failed. They said they would support me 100% and maybe I should look into an AA meeting. I was beaming on the inside. I was so worried they would judge me. It has been more than 24 hours now and I have thought about alcohol a lot. I got thirsty a lot. But I want to quit. I want to do well. And I want to overcome this. And I will.
I will always be recovering. But I will never stop the fight.
Member
Join Date: Oct 2012
Posts: 603
Thanks for the detailed story and the paragraph breaks. You write well and you've got a lot of good things going for you. You're still young. You can beat this if you want to. Pass it off to childish indiscretion and move on. Apologize to the people you need to if you feel you really did them a great injustice, but to me, dwelling in self pity is counter-productive. Some people might forever remember you as that "wasted guy" but you can't change that, and there's no point on dwelling on it. It's good that you've documented it though. My story isn't exactly like yours, but there is a common thread that resonates. You're not alone and you will find lots of support here.
I've forced myself to throw up because it was better than feeling nauseous. After throwing up I started on the next beer. How crazy is that? I'm not saying I chugged the next beer, and I didn't... but that's not rational behavior.
I've forced myself to throw up because it was better than feeling nauseous. After throwing up I started on the next beer. How crazy is that? I'm not saying I chugged the next beer, and I didn't... but that's not rational behavior.
Member
Join Date: Aug 2012
Location: Gainesville, FL
Posts: 96
Welcome Emanon,
I envy your writing skills! I'm on day 9 of staying sober. I used to binge drink a LOT when I was in the Army. It would be very wise of you to tell your doctor that you want to quit. The first 3 or 4 days for me were rough. Here are some things that helped me get thru it:
- Drink a gallon of water each day, along with some gatorade and green tea.
- Tell your parents, sister, someone to check in on you every few hours. If possible, try to hang out with a reliable friend who doesn't drink or at least rarely does.
- I saved some text messages from friends about me drinking too much, those have gotten me thru some tough times when I felt the urge to just give in.
- This is a little extreme, but I set SR to my homepage. I can't go out or watch TV for an hour without seeing an ad for booze, so seeing this page daily has really helped me.
- Go sit at a nice park with a notepad. Write down the little things that you're noticing that you wouldn't be able to focus on if you had a hangover.
- Exercise daily, even if it's just a short walk each day.
- $$$ try to think back of what a typical night out with your friends cost you. I was spending about 600 a month when I was in the service. I'm re-enlisting and one of the first things I'm goin' do is put $600 a month into my retirement.
Good luck and keep us updated!
Feel free to PM me if you need someone to talk to!
I envy your writing skills! I'm on day 9 of staying sober. I used to binge drink a LOT when I was in the Army. It would be very wise of you to tell your doctor that you want to quit. The first 3 or 4 days for me were rough. Here are some things that helped me get thru it:
- Drink a gallon of water each day, along with some gatorade and green tea.
- Tell your parents, sister, someone to check in on you every few hours. If possible, try to hang out with a reliable friend who doesn't drink or at least rarely does.
- I saved some text messages from friends about me drinking too much, those have gotten me thru some tough times when I felt the urge to just give in.
- This is a little extreme, but I set SR to my homepage. I can't go out or watch TV for an hour without seeing an ad for booze, so seeing this page daily has really helped me.
- Go sit at a nice park with a notepad. Write down the little things that you're noticing that you wouldn't be able to focus on if you had a hangover.
- Exercise daily, even if it's just a short walk each day.
- $$$ try to think back of what a typical night out with your friends cost you. I was spending about 600 a month when I was in the service. I'm re-enlisting and one of the first things I'm goin' do is put $600 a month into my retirement.
Good luck and keep us updated!
Feel free to PM me if you need someone to talk to!
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