560 Days. No Booze.
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Feb 2015
Location: Perth, Western Australia
Posts: 418
560 Days. No Booze.
My quit day was Jan 26 2015.
I was sick of drinking. For 15 years I'd binged whenever humanly possible. Weekends, after work, days off.
Drinking was my replacement for a life. When I had stocked up with a few bottles of liquor and enough mixers to last a day or two, I felt safe and content. I knew what was going to occur over the next short period.
I would get black-out drunk and not have to think about what a socially ******** human being I was. I could talk freely - to people on the internet. I didn't need anyone else. Feeling lonely wasn't even a thing after most of a bottle of whatever the hell I had on hand.
This could have continued on to the day I died if it weren't necessary to earn a living. Drunk I could handle. Drunk without any accomodation or a hope in hell was too much for me to contemplate.
After a DUI, I didn't stop drinking. I moved close to public transport and walked past a liquor store on the way home. Never failed to pick up a bottle of booze.
I remember sweating profusely in the hot Australian sun in those summer months - pants and shirt on from work - walking past other pedestrians and them seeing me: A wreck of a human being. But that feeling of inadequacy - of shame in myself. That ended when I got home and started guzzling the magic forget liquid.
Moving around over the next few years was merely to find another den I could drink in. Not moving forward with anything. Just stinking up another dark hole with cigarette smoke and the sickly smell of warm bourbon. My self hate was palpable. Written on my face for all to see. I didn't care who hated me. I knew. I knew I was a horrible human being.
On it went until, after a few relatively stable years, I moved in with my brother. This was the worst mistake I had made in years. Within a month I was in the hospital psych ward. Carving off pieces of flesh. Playing noughts and crosses with my skin as the canvas for the game.
I really don't like myself.
After a few blissful weeks in hospital where I was taken care of, I went back into the big uncaring world and went back on the booze. I moved back to where I had been before I was living with my brother. Luckily the person I was living with had experience with alcoholics previously. And I was quiet and kept to myself anyway. He left me alone.
Drinking increased. I drank as much as I could. Missed work. Didn't care. Missed my birthday. Didn't care. Turned off any contact with the outside world. I was in super-drunk mode.
But then my house mate told me he was moving and I had to get out.
With no where else to go and with me in no shape do go anywhere else, my parents begrudgingly allowed me to stay with them. Still I drank.
It was only after I started to drink straight rum by the bottle that I decided I had better stop. My parents wouldn't let it continue like this and I had no more options. I had to stop or become the stereotypical drunk on the street you see on TV and unfortunately in real life.
I'd tried AA. I'd tried counselling. I had to make myself quit.
After all this time and self hate. I had some desire to be alive. I don't know why. But that fear of death was my way out.
I asked my doctor to prescribe antabuse. Drink - You could die. That was pretty black and white for me.
So I took that for a few months and met weekly with a group of people and haven't had any alcohol since.
I still hate myself. I don't test out kitchen knives on myself anymore. I don't remark to myself that burning human flesh smells like bacon anymore. But I am still not the happiest clam in the world.
The difference is that now I am doing something semi-productive. Trying to make my way in the world on my terms. Ignoring what I don't want to deal with - like hate and pettiness. Ignoring people I just don't like. But still too scared to make any meaningful human contacts.
So that's it. I just sat down and wrote that. Didn't mean for it to be inspiring. Just what happened on my trip through the valley of liquor and back out.
I just wanted to write it I guess.
I was sick of drinking. For 15 years I'd binged whenever humanly possible. Weekends, after work, days off.
Drinking was my replacement for a life. When I had stocked up with a few bottles of liquor and enough mixers to last a day or two, I felt safe and content. I knew what was going to occur over the next short period.
I would get black-out drunk and not have to think about what a socially ******** human being I was. I could talk freely - to people on the internet. I didn't need anyone else. Feeling lonely wasn't even a thing after most of a bottle of whatever the hell I had on hand.
This could have continued on to the day I died if it weren't necessary to earn a living. Drunk I could handle. Drunk without any accomodation or a hope in hell was too much for me to contemplate.
After a DUI, I didn't stop drinking. I moved close to public transport and walked past a liquor store on the way home. Never failed to pick up a bottle of booze.
I remember sweating profusely in the hot Australian sun in those summer months - pants and shirt on from work - walking past other pedestrians and them seeing me: A wreck of a human being. But that feeling of inadequacy - of shame in myself. That ended when I got home and started guzzling the magic forget liquid.
Moving around over the next few years was merely to find another den I could drink in. Not moving forward with anything. Just stinking up another dark hole with cigarette smoke and the sickly smell of warm bourbon. My self hate was palpable. Written on my face for all to see. I didn't care who hated me. I knew. I knew I was a horrible human being.
On it went until, after a few relatively stable years, I moved in with my brother. This was the worst mistake I had made in years. Within a month I was in the hospital psych ward. Carving off pieces of flesh. Playing noughts and crosses with my skin as the canvas for the game.
I really don't like myself.
After a few blissful weeks in hospital where I was taken care of, I went back into the big uncaring world and went back on the booze. I moved back to where I had been before I was living with my brother. Luckily the person I was living with had experience with alcoholics previously. And I was quiet and kept to myself anyway. He left me alone.
Drinking increased. I drank as much as I could. Missed work. Didn't care. Missed my birthday. Didn't care. Turned off any contact with the outside world. I was in super-drunk mode.
But then my house mate told me he was moving and I had to get out.
With no where else to go and with me in no shape do go anywhere else, my parents begrudgingly allowed me to stay with them. Still I drank.
It was only after I started to drink straight rum by the bottle that I decided I had better stop. My parents wouldn't let it continue like this and I had no more options. I had to stop or become the stereotypical drunk on the street you see on TV and unfortunately in real life.
I'd tried AA. I'd tried counselling. I had to make myself quit.
After all this time and self hate. I had some desire to be alive. I don't know why. But that fear of death was my way out.
I asked my doctor to prescribe antabuse. Drink - You could die. That was pretty black and white for me.
So I took that for a few months and met weekly with a group of people and haven't had any alcohol since.
I still hate myself. I don't test out kitchen knives on myself anymore. I don't remark to myself that burning human flesh smells like bacon anymore. But I am still not the happiest clam in the world.
The difference is that now I am doing something semi-productive. Trying to make my way in the world on my terms. Ignoring what I don't want to deal with - like hate and pettiness. Ignoring people I just don't like. But still too scared to make any meaningful human contacts.
So that's it. I just sat down and wrote that. Didn't mean for it to be inspiring. Just what happened on my trip through the valley of liquor and back out.
I just wanted to write it I guess.
under new management
Join Date: Jun 2015
Location: Calgary, Alberta
Posts: 2,339
Fantastic on 560 days, DD!!!!! 
Your post was beautifully expressed. I was very quickly caught up in it.
I hope you find a way to be a happier clam. Maybe writing is where you will find some happy.
Your post was beautifully expressed. I was very quickly caught up in it.
I hope you find a way to be a happier clam. Maybe writing is where you will find some happy.
I hope you find some peace of mind soon. 
Member
Join Date: Aug 2016
Posts: 53
I feel you. Alot of that is how my life is. Just getting blasted from the real world. Im depressed alot too and hate the world. Do you feel clearer and better? Good job on actually doing it. Almost 2 years is impressive
Member
Join Date: Mar 2012
Location: California
Posts: 13,040
Hi DD,
Thanks for sharing your story, and congratulations on an incredible number of sober days!!
Are you working with a doctor or counselor to help you feel better about yourself? Through your post I see someone who is determined, strong, and a gifted writer, three pretty great traits!
Thanks for sharing your story, and congratulations on an incredible number of sober days!!
Are you working with a doctor or counselor to help you feel better about yourself? Through your post I see someone who is determined, strong, and a gifted writer, three pretty great traits!
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