What a way to start the new year...I'm new here.
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Join Date: Jan 2014
Location: Chicago
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What a way to start the new year...I'm new here.
Hi, everyone.
Firstly, I'll introduce myself. I'm 21 years old. I live in Chicago. For the past year, year and a half, I've been aware that I am an alcoholic.
Which is strange because it seems I'm the first on both sides of the family. My dad drinks daily, but he can control it. I've only seen him drunk perhaps twice in my life.
I don't need to drink every day. My problem is that once I start drinking, that very first drink, I can't stop. I just physically can't. If I try to cut myself off, I get restless, I get a headache, I can't stop thinking about another drink to SAVE. MY. LIFE.
So, New Years was my last binge. And it was not planned. I was going to spend it alone, have dinner, go to bed. I live with my mother, and before she went out to a party, she left me a bottle of champagne so I don't feel too bad. She knows I'm an alcoholic. But she still, for some reason, seems to be in denial about it.
It's funny because she is more in denial about the fact than I am. She thinks it's "just a phase". That it's not a permanent condition. At one point, she was convinced I was demonically possessed to explain my gruesome binges and my behavior (she is a fervent, old school Catholic).
Anyway, so she gave me the bottle of champagne and left. Of course, I gave in. It was New Years, I'm 21, all my friends (or those that used to be my friends. I have none left) were out partying and having a great time. And here I was, alone, at my mom's place, with absolutely nothing to show for my youth. I popped open the bottle and finished it in half an hour.
What I also remembered was my mom left her credit card. So I took it with me and trudged out in the snow to the nearest bar. And at first, it was great. I sat down, ordered a beer, hit it off immediately with some strangers, and made a couple new "friends".
Before I know it, I'm at a stranger's apartment, snorting cocaine, throwing back shots of jager, one after the other, and no idea which was is up.
Come morning, I'm still using my mom's card to buy some more booze. The "friends" I told you about earlier? They threw me out. They thought I was psychotic. They realized I had some serious problems. I remember one of them telling me, and I don't think I'll ever forget it, no matter how blacked out I was, because of how much it stung, he said to me, "I don't know what happened to you in the past, and I don't care. But you have to leave."
So I left. Tripped and slipped on the ice more times than I could count. Broke the 40 oz bottle I just bought. So I went back into the store to buy another. Drunk dialed almost everyone in my phone contacts. Only a few of them picked up. Went home, my mom, who is somewhat used to this by now, took me by the arm and walked me to my room, cigarette dangling from my mouth. I passed out.
I woke up 3-4 hours later with more panic than ever. I never really had the shakes too much, my withdrawals always seemed more psychological and cerebral than physical. I thought I was going to go nuts. I was pacing around my room, in a complete fit of panic. I was convinced I was going to break into seizure. I took my Paxil (yes, I'm also on antidepressants, for anxiety no less). I took one of my mom's hydroxyzines (an antihistimine). It's not xanax, but it was better than nothing.
I'm doing better now. A lot better. I'm going to a young people's meeting on sunday (day after tomorrow).
I have so much more to share. I'm glad to be here. I never want to go through this again.
Thanks for reading, guys.
tyou
Firstly, I'll introduce myself. I'm 21 years old. I live in Chicago. For the past year, year and a half, I've been aware that I am an alcoholic.
Which is strange because it seems I'm the first on both sides of the family. My dad drinks daily, but he can control it. I've only seen him drunk perhaps twice in my life.
I don't need to drink every day. My problem is that once I start drinking, that very first drink, I can't stop. I just physically can't. If I try to cut myself off, I get restless, I get a headache, I can't stop thinking about another drink to SAVE. MY. LIFE.
So, New Years was my last binge. And it was not planned. I was going to spend it alone, have dinner, go to bed. I live with my mother, and before she went out to a party, she left me a bottle of champagne so I don't feel too bad. She knows I'm an alcoholic. But she still, for some reason, seems to be in denial about it.
It's funny because she is more in denial about the fact than I am. She thinks it's "just a phase". That it's not a permanent condition. At one point, she was convinced I was demonically possessed to explain my gruesome binges and my behavior (she is a fervent, old school Catholic).
Anyway, so she gave me the bottle of champagne and left. Of course, I gave in. It was New Years, I'm 21, all my friends (or those that used to be my friends. I have none left) were out partying and having a great time. And here I was, alone, at my mom's place, with absolutely nothing to show for my youth. I popped open the bottle and finished it in half an hour.
What I also remembered was my mom left her credit card. So I took it with me and trudged out in the snow to the nearest bar. And at first, it was great. I sat down, ordered a beer, hit it off immediately with some strangers, and made a couple new "friends".
Before I know it, I'm at a stranger's apartment, snorting cocaine, throwing back shots of jager, one after the other, and no idea which was is up.
Come morning, I'm still using my mom's card to buy some more booze. The "friends" I told you about earlier? They threw me out. They thought I was psychotic. They realized I had some serious problems. I remember one of them telling me, and I don't think I'll ever forget it, no matter how blacked out I was, because of how much it stung, he said to me, "I don't know what happened to you in the past, and I don't care. But you have to leave."
So I left. Tripped and slipped on the ice more times than I could count. Broke the 40 oz bottle I just bought. So I went back into the store to buy another. Drunk dialed almost everyone in my phone contacts. Only a few of them picked up. Went home, my mom, who is somewhat used to this by now, took me by the arm and walked me to my room, cigarette dangling from my mouth. I passed out.
I woke up 3-4 hours later with more panic than ever. I never really had the shakes too much, my withdrawals always seemed more psychological and cerebral than physical. I thought I was going to go nuts. I was pacing around my room, in a complete fit of panic. I was convinced I was going to break into seizure. I took my Paxil (yes, I'm also on antidepressants, for anxiety no less). I took one of my mom's hydroxyzines (an antihistimine). It's not xanax, but it was better than nothing.
I'm doing better now. A lot better. I'm going to a young people's meeting on sunday (day after tomorrow).
I have so much more to share. I'm glad to be here. I never want to go through this again.
Thanks for reading, guys.
tyou
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