Young alcoholic new to recovery
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Thread Starter
Join Date: Sep 2007
Posts: 31
Young alcoholic new to recovery
Hello everyone,
I am probably one of the younger alcoholics here, being just shy of 20. I began drinking when I was 17 and loved it. The first time I got drunk, the first thing I wanted to do was have more alcohol. Should have been telling, right?
After this, alcohol began to become a real obsession in my life. Lots of people were "impressed" by my tolerance and ability to do silly things like pick up a bottle of beer and drink it in a few seconds, and alcohol basically formed the backbone of my social life: I'd always been so shy, and now I was able to stand out! One of the memories of this time that makes me the saddest is of carrying a 12 pack of beer and literally trembling at the knees in anticipation...
Things began to get out of control. I'd go to bed absolutely pissed every night, sometimes unable to feel my own face. Which was unfortunate, particularly when I tried to shave. I remember making myself a gin and tonic and when no one was looking putting the bottle to my mouth and drinking from it: I actually had to sit with my hand over my mouth at the table before I could go back out and be seen.
At this stage, drinking wasn't interfering with my relationships with other people - I'd even have said it was making them better - apart from my mother, who had lived with an alcoholic. I kept on doing absolutely ridiculous things, though. For example, one night I was invited to a party and was told some girls would be there, so I drained a beer and drank from a bottle of brandy before going to make myself more "sociable"!
The first real wakeup - I think that in the early stages it takes something really frightening to start to bring us to our senses - was my first blackout. I got absolutely hammered at a friend's house, had tons of beers then started draining a bottle of vodka. Next memory? Home, in bed, hair caked in my own vomit, and apparently I broke the toilet seat off. Found out that night that I'd vomitted in every room of my friend's house, destroyed a coffee table and her selection of cactus plants (I wondered all day what the marks all over me where), and basically made a complete dick of myself, with people having to put me in the recovery position and hold my head up because I kept falling face first into my own vomit. That day, I sat at the library looking at my reflection in the glass and I was just disgusted with myself. At that moment I felt that I'd had a glimpse into my future, maybe being a father coming home legless and scaring the kids.
Shortly after I'd started drinking in France I'd met a guy who'd told me that for the last ten years, he'd been getting off his face every night and was taking 3 months off to let his body recharge (lol). So in my shame and disgust, I thought of that, and decided to take 3 months off myself.
These 3 months were tough due to a lot of stress in my life, but I handled them in sobriety. Was a much better person, even met a girl I really cared about. Some people had thought that I wouldn't last, and others had tried to pressure me into drinking again ("c'mon, it won't hurt you!"). But I did last, and to be honest, my life was much better during these months. Did much better academically, socially, etc.
But then came the end of the three months. Went to a friend's party, decided to have a beer, then proudly told people that I'd had that one beer, hadn't got drunk and didn't want any more (I just, incidentally, realised that this was a complete lie: after leaving the party, I went on a massive walk with a friend to the local losers' tavern to try and drink more, but it was shut due to it being a bank holiday. Funny how you can believe your own lies for so long).
The week after, I was drinking jugs of beer and double bourbons with impunity. I had considered during my three months that maybe I was an alcoholic, but figured I was "better now". WRONG! It wasn't long before I found myself drinking a few jugs of beer, a few triple bourbons, smoking some marijuana, then continuing to drink all night at a friend's party. In total I probably had about 30 drinks that night and had to be carried out after everyone had laughed at me trying to hit on girls and stuff. I wanted to go up on stage to do karaoke but I couldn't get up, let alone walk up the stairs to the stage. I lost a lot of memory from that night but I do remember, as I was leaving, my friend's sister saying "is he alright to get home?". Felt like such a loser the next day, all it takes is the right person to say something like that and it can almost bring you to tears.
Shortly after this I broke down in front of one of my teachers who took me aside and asked me if I needed to talk. I don't know how I would have got through this time without this teacher, and then went to see the school counsellor. At first I said I'd take another three months off. Then I said I'd limit myself to just beer, no spirits (sound familiar to anyone?). A few days later, though, I was sure enough vomitting onto my shoes in some filthy bar's toilets full of spiders, then realising I couldn't remember the last hour or so. The year continued with lots of drinking but only a couple of blackouts.
The next year alcohol became a MAJOR part of my life and I always looked forward to getting drunk on Thursdays. The year was full of blackouts and messes (anyone ever known they got a taxi but couldn't remember a damn thing about it? that happened all the time. I spent hours wandering through the city once because I was too drunk to use an ATM, then must have blacked out for a bit because next thing I knew I was vomitting at some unknown location, then my next memory is of being home in the morning, doing the dreaded and soon to be all too familiar phone check, then going into town to meet a friend for coffee, still legless). That morning haze was always awful: there were tiny bits of memories, but not enough to put together an account of the evening without some serious detective work and imagination. I still shudder at the memories that came back of me staggering somewhere in the dark, in the rain, smearing food all over my clothes. Sometimes I even had to check receipts and bank statements to know where I'd been and what I'd bought.
UDI's (unidentified drinking injuries) became common as well. One morning after I woke up absolutely off my ass and went into uni I noticed myself covered in cuts; I saw a friend of mine that day and asked him what they were from and he just rolled up his sleeve and showed me that he had the same ones. Apparently, he'd had to drag me to an ATM so I could call a taxi, but since I weighed more than him, I'd been pushing him into the thorn bushes most of the way.
That particular morning was really horrendous because of the casual way in which I handled it. Woke up at 9, the room spinning around me. Got up, had a shower, made myself some porridge, spilt it all over the floor, cleaned it up and ate what I could. Then bounced my way down to the bus stop, barely any memories of the last couple of hours of the night before, then let them flood back to me throughout the day. Trying to come onto a girl (I asked this girl out on a date and ended up in the same state the second time, then a couple of months later she saw me outside a bar trying to throw a lit cigarette in the air and catch it in my mouth. let's just say it didn't work at all)... lying on someone's floor clutching at the tap of a beerkeg and pouring it down my mouth, trying to stop people taking it from me... going into someone's garden and yelling "I'M JUST TAKING IN A **** IN THIS GARDEN" only to find the owner outside putting his recycling out... and something that would normally disgust me but that I don't remember at all, draining a bottle of wine and throwing it up into the air to smash on the road. It was really insane, and I handled it all so casually the day after, even when it was torturing and tourmenting me on the inside.
Drinking became a regular thing for a while, but I was only getting very drunk, not paralytic. Had a couple of blackouts, nothing major, cruised along until New Year's Eve which was my last bender for a while. At the start of the year, I quit drinking and smoking and began running again. Life maybe wasn't better, but she was at least wearing better makeup! Only it didn't last, and about 6 weeks later I drank 10 Heineken and smoked a few spliffs at a friend's house then had to get up the next day to do a university assignment that was due in a few hours.
It was after this that things really began to fall apart, and I really began to think of myself as an alcoholic. After one huge bender where I practically lost my sense of reality (at 5am I saw a car drive through the front of a liquor store to rob it but I was so drunk I didn't know if it really happened or not until I went into the shop to purchase something the week later and asked). Shortly after this, I remember the exact moment where I said to myself, "why don't I just start drinking every night like I used to, to help me sleep and to help the stress?" Hangovers at this period were insane, most days it was like I was watching someone else in a movie or something (I sat an exam at uni hungover once and it was literally like watching someone write the words in front of me). I was more or less hungover all the time, since my hangovers took several days to cure and I didn't stay sober that long.
Things became particularly insane about a month later. I read the book on adult children of alcoholics and identified with most of it (despite not being the direct descendent of alcoholics I have lived around them... extended family and stuff). Despite that, I started to drink even more, and more regularly. Spending up to $100+ at bars on Thursday nights... used to end up rolling around on the floor, barely capable of even speaking.. then when I got home and went to bed I even pissed myself once. Around this time I began to get extremely maudlin while drinking, talking to anyone who'd listen about my family problems.
Then one night, after an absolutely hellish bender that made me sick for a week, I vomitted into my bed and decided I was definitely an alcoholic and needed to stop. Not too long after saying this I ended up taking the "phantom taxi" home again after a "night out" (night out of my mind more like).
Shortly after, I moved country, hoping to regain sobriety (this seems to be a common thing among people like us as well). Didn't work. I was drinking every day, hungover every day, etc. The night of the 31 August, I arranged to meet up with someone I couldn't stand just so I could get roaring drunk, and that's what I did. Ended up with only blurs of memories and took the "long way" home after ending up in a part of town I'd never been to before with no clue how I got there. The morning after, I knew it was time to start applying what I'd been reading on this forum and elsewhere for the last couple of months.
I decided to go just that one day without drinking, then the next one, then the one after... the days trickled together up to now, over three weeks of sobriety. If I wake up on Saturday morning instead of simply coming to, I shall have one month of sobriety under my belt. Obviously it hasn't fixed all the problems in my life, but things are a lot better now. Thinking of some of my hangovers is enough to bring myself almost to tears these days... how could I go through the days like that?
I came to accept that I had no real control over alcohol, and I believe that the only thing that can truly save me from this demon is the love of other people. And now that I'm in recovery, I'm more likely to get it, so let me raise my glass of orange juice and make a toast to the future!
Sorry for the length of my post, but it has really helped me to get all this out. Thank you very much to all the wonderful, brave people here who have inspired me over the time I've been reading this forum.
I am probably one of the younger alcoholics here, being just shy of 20. I began drinking when I was 17 and loved it. The first time I got drunk, the first thing I wanted to do was have more alcohol. Should have been telling, right?
After this, alcohol began to become a real obsession in my life. Lots of people were "impressed" by my tolerance and ability to do silly things like pick up a bottle of beer and drink it in a few seconds, and alcohol basically formed the backbone of my social life: I'd always been so shy, and now I was able to stand out! One of the memories of this time that makes me the saddest is of carrying a 12 pack of beer and literally trembling at the knees in anticipation...
Things began to get out of control. I'd go to bed absolutely pissed every night, sometimes unable to feel my own face. Which was unfortunate, particularly when I tried to shave. I remember making myself a gin and tonic and when no one was looking putting the bottle to my mouth and drinking from it: I actually had to sit with my hand over my mouth at the table before I could go back out and be seen.
At this stage, drinking wasn't interfering with my relationships with other people - I'd even have said it was making them better - apart from my mother, who had lived with an alcoholic. I kept on doing absolutely ridiculous things, though. For example, one night I was invited to a party and was told some girls would be there, so I drained a beer and drank from a bottle of brandy before going to make myself more "sociable"!
The first real wakeup - I think that in the early stages it takes something really frightening to start to bring us to our senses - was my first blackout. I got absolutely hammered at a friend's house, had tons of beers then started draining a bottle of vodka. Next memory? Home, in bed, hair caked in my own vomit, and apparently I broke the toilet seat off. Found out that night that I'd vomitted in every room of my friend's house, destroyed a coffee table and her selection of cactus plants (I wondered all day what the marks all over me where), and basically made a complete dick of myself, with people having to put me in the recovery position and hold my head up because I kept falling face first into my own vomit. That day, I sat at the library looking at my reflection in the glass and I was just disgusted with myself. At that moment I felt that I'd had a glimpse into my future, maybe being a father coming home legless and scaring the kids.
Shortly after I'd started drinking in France I'd met a guy who'd told me that for the last ten years, he'd been getting off his face every night and was taking 3 months off to let his body recharge (lol). So in my shame and disgust, I thought of that, and decided to take 3 months off myself.
These 3 months were tough due to a lot of stress in my life, but I handled them in sobriety. Was a much better person, even met a girl I really cared about. Some people had thought that I wouldn't last, and others had tried to pressure me into drinking again ("c'mon, it won't hurt you!"). But I did last, and to be honest, my life was much better during these months. Did much better academically, socially, etc.
But then came the end of the three months. Went to a friend's party, decided to have a beer, then proudly told people that I'd had that one beer, hadn't got drunk and didn't want any more (I just, incidentally, realised that this was a complete lie: after leaving the party, I went on a massive walk with a friend to the local losers' tavern to try and drink more, but it was shut due to it being a bank holiday. Funny how you can believe your own lies for so long).
The week after, I was drinking jugs of beer and double bourbons with impunity. I had considered during my three months that maybe I was an alcoholic, but figured I was "better now". WRONG! It wasn't long before I found myself drinking a few jugs of beer, a few triple bourbons, smoking some marijuana, then continuing to drink all night at a friend's party. In total I probably had about 30 drinks that night and had to be carried out after everyone had laughed at me trying to hit on girls and stuff. I wanted to go up on stage to do karaoke but I couldn't get up, let alone walk up the stairs to the stage. I lost a lot of memory from that night but I do remember, as I was leaving, my friend's sister saying "is he alright to get home?". Felt like such a loser the next day, all it takes is the right person to say something like that and it can almost bring you to tears.
Shortly after this I broke down in front of one of my teachers who took me aside and asked me if I needed to talk. I don't know how I would have got through this time without this teacher, and then went to see the school counsellor. At first I said I'd take another three months off. Then I said I'd limit myself to just beer, no spirits (sound familiar to anyone?). A few days later, though, I was sure enough vomitting onto my shoes in some filthy bar's toilets full of spiders, then realising I couldn't remember the last hour or so. The year continued with lots of drinking but only a couple of blackouts.
The next year alcohol became a MAJOR part of my life and I always looked forward to getting drunk on Thursdays. The year was full of blackouts and messes (anyone ever known they got a taxi but couldn't remember a damn thing about it? that happened all the time. I spent hours wandering through the city once because I was too drunk to use an ATM, then must have blacked out for a bit because next thing I knew I was vomitting at some unknown location, then my next memory is of being home in the morning, doing the dreaded and soon to be all too familiar phone check, then going into town to meet a friend for coffee, still legless). That morning haze was always awful: there were tiny bits of memories, but not enough to put together an account of the evening without some serious detective work and imagination. I still shudder at the memories that came back of me staggering somewhere in the dark, in the rain, smearing food all over my clothes. Sometimes I even had to check receipts and bank statements to know where I'd been and what I'd bought.
UDI's (unidentified drinking injuries) became common as well. One morning after I woke up absolutely off my ass and went into uni I noticed myself covered in cuts; I saw a friend of mine that day and asked him what they were from and he just rolled up his sleeve and showed me that he had the same ones. Apparently, he'd had to drag me to an ATM so I could call a taxi, but since I weighed more than him, I'd been pushing him into the thorn bushes most of the way.
That particular morning was really horrendous because of the casual way in which I handled it. Woke up at 9, the room spinning around me. Got up, had a shower, made myself some porridge, spilt it all over the floor, cleaned it up and ate what I could. Then bounced my way down to the bus stop, barely any memories of the last couple of hours of the night before, then let them flood back to me throughout the day. Trying to come onto a girl (I asked this girl out on a date and ended up in the same state the second time, then a couple of months later she saw me outside a bar trying to throw a lit cigarette in the air and catch it in my mouth. let's just say it didn't work at all)... lying on someone's floor clutching at the tap of a beerkeg and pouring it down my mouth, trying to stop people taking it from me... going into someone's garden and yelling "I'M JUST TAKING IN A **** IN THIS GARDEN" only to find the owner outside putting his recycling out... and something that would normally disgust me but that I don't remember at all, draining a bottle of wine and throwing it up into the air to smash on the road. It was really insane, and I handled it all so casually the day after, even when it was torturing and tourmenting me on the inside.
Drinking became a regular thing for a while, but I was only getting very drunk, not paralytic. Had a couple of blackouts, nothing major, cruised along until New Year's Eve which was my last bender for a while. At the start of the year, I quit drinking and smoking and began running again. Life maybe wasn't better, but she was at least wearing better makeup! Only it didn't last, and about 6 weeks later I drank 10 Heineken and smoked a few spliffs at a friend's house then had to get up the next day to do a university assignment that was due in a few hours.
It was after this that things really began to fall apart, and I really began to think of myself as an alcoholic. After one huge bender where I practically lost my sense of reality (at 5am I saw a car drive through the front of a liquor store to rob it but I was so drunk I didn't know if it really happened or not until I went into the shop to purchase something the week later and asked). Shortly after this, I remember the exact moment where I said to myself, "why don't I just start drinking every night like I used to, to help me sleep and to help the stress?" Hangovers at this period were insane, most days it was like I was watching someone else in a movie or something (I sat an exam at uni hungover once and it was literally like watching someone write the words in front of me). I was more or less hungover all the time, since my hangovers took several days to cure and I didn't stay sober that long.
Things became particularly insane about a month later. I read the book on adult children of alcoholics and identified with most of it (despite not being the direct descendent of alcoholics I have lived around them... extended family and stuff). Despite that, I started to drink even more, and more regularly. Spending up to $100+ at bars on Thursday nights... used to end up rolling around on the floor, barely capable of even speaking.. then when I got home and went to bed I even pissed myself once. Around this time I began to get extremely maudlin while drinking, talking to anyone who'd listen about my family problems.
Then one night, after an absolutely hellish bender that made me sick for a week, I vomitted into my bed and decided I was definitely an alcoholic and needed to stop. Not too long after saying this I ended up taking the "phantom taxi" home again after a "night out" (night out of my mind more like).
Shortly after, I moved country, hoping to regain sobriety (this seems to be a common thing among people like us as well). Didn't work. I was drinking every day, hungover every day, etc. The night of the 31 August, I arranged to meet up with someone I couldn't stand just so I could get roaring drunk, and that's what I did. Ended up with only blurs of memories and took the "long way" home after ending up in a part of town I'd never been to before with no clue how I got there. The morning after, I knew it was time to start applying what I'd been reading on this forum and elsewhere for the last couple of months.
I decided to go just that one day without drinking, then the next one, then the one after... the days trickled together up to now, over three weeks of sobriety. If I wake up on Saturday morning instead of simply coming to, I shall have one month of sobriety under my belt. Obviously it hasn't fixed all the problems in my life, but things are a lot better now. Thinking of some of my hangovers is enough to bring myself almost to tears these days... how could I go through the days like that?
I came to accept that I had no real control over alcohol, and I believe that the only thing that can truly save me from this demon is the love of other people. And now that I'm in recovery, I'm more likely to get it, so let me raise my glass of orange juice and make a toast to the future!
Sorry for the length of my post, but it has really helped me to get all this out. Thank you very much to all the wonderful, brave people here who have inspired me over the time I've been reading this forum.
let it grow!
Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: USA
Posts: 15,540
nice to meet you, blue ice. my daughter is 23, and she is also an alcoholic. she also has suffered a lot of UDIs..
it sounds like you are one of the lucky ones that figured it out early, so good for you.
keep posting!
blessings, k
it sounds like you are one of the lucky ones that figured it out early, so good for you.
keep posting!
blessings, k
Member
Join Date: Sep 2007
Location: media, pa
Posts: 243
You should find a publisher for that post. JK
Welcome to SR Blue_Icecream.
I usually skip the long posts, but your story was descriptive and had me hooked from the beginning. You definitely sound like a person who doesn't carry a spirits checklist card in the pocket. Vomiting everywhere, as many people will agree with me, is a subtle sign of alcoholism.
I'm impressed that someone as young as you has such a mature perspective on drinking. I gather you've made many insights as to why you drink. You will need those insights, and past vulgar memories, to battle your cravings during times of distress.
Thanks for sharing your story. Keep posting.
Best,
Dave
Welcome to SR Blue_Icecream.
I usually skip the long posts, but your story was descriptive and had me hooked from the beginning. You definitely sound like a person who doesn't carry a spirits checklist card in the pocket. Vomiting everywhere, as many people will agree with me, is a subtle sign of alcoholism.
I'm impressed that someone as young as you has such a mature perspective on drinking. I gather you've made many insights as to why you drink. You will need those insights, and past vulgar memories, to battle your cravings during times of distress.
Thanks for sharing your story. Keep posting.
Best,
Dave
Member
Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: London
Posts: 345
Hi Blue
Believe me, I know all about the phantom taxi rides. For years I used to think I just teleported from the bar straight to my bed - somehow getting covered in junk food on the way.
I was also an expert at the turning up at someones to have `just the one` and ending up making a world beating arse of myself too. Until I decided it was just safer to drink in my own garden.
Oh, and dont start me on the phantom injuries! I thought I had gout once when my big toe swelled up mysteriously. An ex-ray confirmed I had fractured it during one of my blackouts.
You are with people who understand. It is a good place and you will get a lot of support in your road to recovery.
Welcome, keep posting and let us know how you are getting on.
Oct
Believe me, I know all about the phantom taxi rides. For years I used to think I just teleported from the bar straight to my bed - somehow getting covered in junk food on the way.
I was also an expert at the turning up at someones to have `just the one` and ending up making a world beating arse of myself too. Until I decided it was just safer to drink in my own garden.
Oh, and dont start me on the phantom injuries! I thought I had gout once when my big toe swelled up mysteriously. An ex-ray confirmed I had fractured it during one of my blackouts.
You are with people who understand. It is a good place and you will get a lot of support in your road to recovery.
Welcome, keep posting and let us know how you are getting on.
Oct
You certainly learned quicker than I 
Old & Sober Member of AA
Join Date: Nov 2005
Location: Nursing Home in Brick, New Jersey
Posts: 5,174
Sounds like you crammed a lifetime of alcoholic drinking, with many of its terrors, into three years...how fortunate you are to now be able to look forward to a life of sobriety.
"A mind is a terrible thing to waste"; and, your very insightful post demonstrates that you have intelligence, as well as youth, on your side. Don't waste it...you can be an inspiration to other youthful alcoholics/addicts.
"A mind is a terrible thing to waste"; and, your very insightful post demonstrates that you have intelligence, as well as youth, on your side. Don't waste it...you can be an inspiration to other youthful alcoholics/addicts.
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