The old stomping grounds
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Join Date: Jun 2013
Location: Big City
Posts: 3,895
The old stomping grounds
Today for work I took a train to a courthouse in a small city I haven't been to in a long while. In fact the last time I was here on a case I was still deep in the bottles. I used to come to this court often when I was at a previous law firm. I was thinking about and anticipating the trip last night. I knew that certain feelings and memories would be reawakened. I guess in a way I was looking forward to it.
Today, passing through the towns, familiar train stations and then being in the small city where I have court takes me back to some of the deep water days of my drinking life. Nothing glorious occurred to me in the remembering, no sweet reminisces of glory days. Instead a series of public bathrooms where I would reel, bloodshot, intestines brutalized, my whole body racked with the tremors of another wasted night. Park benches where I would sit with my head in my hands, waiting for someone to save me. The stilted, nervous and sweat-soaked interactions in courthouses with other lawyers, my eyes not wanting to linger long on anyone else's, my hands clammy, unsure, uncertain, no confidence, no self-trust, nothing but a return, over and over again, to the bottle.
Every day was spent in efforts to secure the earliest taste I could get of the poison - everything sacrificed.
Nausea, shame, fear, anxiety, stress stress stress...
Slinking down back streets with cheap vodka at 11am, wasting time in a bookstore waiting for the shakes to subside, hiding from everything, lying, doing everything I could to structure my whole life around drinking - what madness!
In the end I don't have a major takeaway from my experience today and the memories it brought back. I just know I'm so so thankful that horrible, dishonorable and brutal life is behind me. Every choice I make to stay sober reaffirms that - feeling left out from a social gathering, wanting to get some kind of related release, silly AV thoughts - there's work to get and stay sober, it's work I'll keep doing forever. Never going back to that place.
Today, passing through the towns, familiar train stations and then being in the small city where I have court takes me back to some of the deep water days of my drinking life. Nothing glorious occurred to me in the remembering, no sweet reminisces of glory days. Instead a series of public bathrooms where I would reel, bloodshot, intestines brutalized, my whole body racked with the tremors of another wasted night. Park benches where I would sit with my head in my hands, waiting for someone to save me. The stilted, nervous and sweat-soaked interactions in courthouses with other lawyers, my eyes not wanting to linger long on anyone else's, my hands clammy, unsure, uncertain, no confidence, no self-trust, nothing but a return, over and over again, to the bottle.
Every day was spent in efforts to secure the earliest taste I could get of the poison - everything sacrificed.
Nausea, shame, fear, anxiety, stress stress stress...
Slinking down back streets with cheap vodka at 11am, wasting time in a bookstore waiting for the shakes to subside, hiding from everything, lying, doing everything I could to structure my whole life around drinking - what madness!
In the end I don't have a major takeaway from my experience today and the memories it brought back. I just know I'm so so thankful that horrible, dishonorable and brutal life is behind me. Every choice I make to stay sober reaffirms that - feeling left out from a social gathering, wanting to get some kind of related release, silly AV thoughts - there's work to get and stay sober, it's work I'll keep doing forever. Never going back to that place.
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Join Date: Feb 2020
Posts: 222
What a painful life alcohol provides. I'm so glad you were able to change your path. Memories like those you've described keep front and center the reason why sobriety is the only road people like us should travel.
Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for sharing.
Giving up is NOT an option.
Join Date: Jan 2015
Location: Western Wisconsin
Posts: 7,808
That description of your deep water days awakened some similar memories for me. Particularly this: "public bathrooms where I would reel, bloodshot, intestines brutalized, my whole body racked with the tremors of another wasted night."
That makes me remember days at work, hiding in the bathroom, sure I was about to die or at least pass out. swearing up and down to myself that I'd never drink again. Completely miserable, oozing alcohol from every pore. Making up excuses to leave work early so I could go home and collapse into a sweat-soaked, restless sleep, only to wake up the next day, feel better, and drink again. I could almost throw up right now just thinking about the misery and hopelessness of those days.
I am eternally grateful that I never have to feel that way again, if I choose not to.
That makes me remember days at work, hiding in the bathroom, sure I was about to die or at least pass out. swearing up and down to myself that I'd never drink again. Completely miserable, oozing alcohol from every pore. Making up excuses to leave work early so I could go home and collapse into a sweat-soaked, restless sleep, only to wake up the next day, feel better, and drink again. I could almost throw up right now just thinking about the misery and hopelessness of those days.
I am eternally grateful that I never have to feel that way again, if I choose not to.
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Join Date: Feb 2015
Posts: 1,188
Reading about your experience just reminded me one of the worst things about hangovers - the sweats. Dear heavens they just would...not...stop.
Right now I get a drop on my brow, wipe it, calm my breath and it goes away. But going from one building to another on campus (300 metres maybe) was a death sentence after coming off a 2 or 3 day bender. I used to try to dry my hair with the hand dryers in the bathroom. No one looked at me weird...right.
I am forever grateful that I never have to experience that nauseous, angry with myself, pouring sweat and reeking of last nights poison, feeling ever again.
Thank you for the reminder
Right now I get a drop on my brow, wipe it, calm my breath and it goes away. But going from one building to another on campus (300 metres maybe) was a death sentence after coming off a 2 or 3 day bender. I used to try to dry my hair with the hand dryers in the bathroom. No one looked at me weird...right.
I am forever grateful that I never have to experience that nauseous, angry with myself, pouring sweat and reeking of last nights poison, feeling ever again.
Thank you for the reminder
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Join Date: Dec 2016
Location: Northwest U.S.
Posts: 778
I, too, lived the drunken lawyer life. I, too, am ever so thankful that is all behind me. Your description of some of those experiences is fabulous. Thanks for the post and for the reminder that there is nothing good to take from those experiences.
Member
Join Date: Oct 2019
Posts: 42
Glad you're able to be so realistic about your time in those days. I find I often still reminisce. I am capable of being honest with myself, but it's an entirely separate thing for the honesty to stick...and affect your actions.
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