How alcohol saved me just to destroy me at the end
This shit is hard and uncomfortable to talk about because it’s my life, and it is messed up just like me. I am very new to this whole sobriety thing. I think I am doing this so that I can keep myself accountable for staying sober.
I am not yet okay with who I am and mostly how I have reacted to things: I isolated myself for 12 years and drank for 6, starting at age 21.
I always lived in the fantasy of who I wanted myself to be, instead of being who I was. I think this is the hardest part of recovery, facing yourself and being yourself instead of living in the delusion of that perfect you.
Reality is that I did it to myself. I couldn’t deal with my grandfather’s death, and I worked endless hours to become self-employed, never achieved it. I was always taught that all you need is to work hard. I tried to invest my saved money which only got me scammed at the end. No surprise there, given the fact that I only ever saw the good in people.
I couldn’t handle my financial losses. I put so much effort into it…I overdosed on energy drinks big time trying to keep up.. then I developed heart problems(luckily I think its been caused by my excessive drinking so its all good now). I didn’t even know back then how dangerous that shit is, I could have fucking died because I drank such incredible amounts. My day, every day, was pretty much the same, go to high school, work and get as much sleep as possible anywhere the opportunity presented itself. That went on for years. I had no friends, all I had was this one goal you know, and failing it…
My heart was broken afterwards, my efforts wiped out…and one morning after waking up I just silently gave up on everything…
Then I discovered alcohol.
Alcohol didn’t make me more social, didn’t give me any new abilities, but it helped me to isolate myself. It took away my boredom, I didn’t have to be social, just social enough to pass my workday. It gave me so much needed comfort. I was still trying to get over someone’s death. I didn’t want to be seen. I didn’t want to care or love anyone. I just wanted to be alone.
I think that’s what I will always miss about drinking, is me living out my fantasy of being alone, and yet not feeling the negative effects of being that way. Where I don’t have to say a word, I can go places, bad places, and feel no pain along the way, since the alcohol brings me enormous pleasure and has this anesthetic side to it… I was debating whether it was really worth loving or caring about someone and putting all this effort into living this life, pursuing all these so-called goals, when it’s only a matter of time till everything will be destroyed and lost. I wasn’t suicidal, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around things like that…
So for six years I was paying a high price for a low life. I didn’t think twice about harming my body. I just saw the good side of drinking. It was everything to me, till all the pain started to kick in, and even then I didn’t want to stop.
I got to the point where I completely destroyed everything I had. I became insane. It was unmanageable, and I wanted to stop at this point, but I couldn’t.. I became alcohol’s little bitch…
There was no limit to my denial and even after this (note this is not me in the video):
Same night after the hospital discharge I was pumping myself with beer again. (By the way my green number on the monitor was close to 400. This experience has caused me to develop death anxiety). I justified it by saying I would only have a few and that this was more expensive beer, therefore, it was much more healthier. Besides there are benefits to moderation I thought. I drank without knowing why, it was just something that I had to do. I knew I wouldn’t get drunk from those 3 bottles of beer, but I still had to. I cautiously drank one, then a second and a third. I will never forget the experience of cardioversion, I am scared shitless as I am writing about it. This video makes things look and feel peaceful but it’s not…I remember the doctor telling me that I was going to the land full of beautiful women right before my sedation. I remember that taste in my mouth. It was probably medication, then I was just staring at the bright lights at the ceiling as the pain from my heart going insane started subsiding. I felt at ease and things just started getting dark. At some point I thought that eternity had passed. Suddenly, I remember seeing this very bright light flash (same as when lightning flashes in the sky) in my eyes, that’s probably when they shocked me. My body just jumped in the air and I lost consciousness.
Before waking up I remember hearing noises. Then someone I think said “how’s my favorite patient doing” I dont know if that was aimed at me but I woke up. I was embarrassed for feeling this bad breath in my mouth so I asked for a toothbrush and toothpaste so I could take care of it. I told the nurses that they and the doctors were like aliens. Its was probably side effects from the sedation. Then I remember thinking that someone was talking about morphine. When one of the doctors came to check on me I had a hard time stopping myself from laughing. I apologized to him because he thought that I was laughing at him when in reality I was just astonished at what had just happened to me, and I am sure the medications played a big part as well.
I was asked whether I wanted someone to be contacted. I said no. I was angry. I was hurt and just wanted to be left the fuck alone.
… It horrifies me how delusional I was… I didn’t have the ability to stop.
Seven months into sobriety…
I started this blog right after I left inpatient rehab. I know I didn’t mention it at the beginning, I was scared that someone I knew might find out (not like anyone knows me that much, after all I am a master at hiding). This blog has some crazy thoughts so even if you found out please can you not tell me about it?-thank you.
So I drank, like never before (continuation of my story before I went to rehab, I haven’t relapsed yet). Death has taken someone from me, again. This time I wasn’t that close. It doesn’t hurt, it’s not about hurting anymore it’s about the blow of someone not being here anymore, in this life. I haven’t talked to this person in over 11 years. I am avoiding everything. I haven’t been to the funeral (because I live on the other side of the world, I would have to fly over 10 hours and I do not fly cause I am scared) or had to see him deteriorate. That’s why I fucking loved drinking so much. I could just pretend and say “leave me the fucking alone.” I was either going through a major hangover and being in pain, or drunk. It was always implied “we will talk later,” once I sobered up, which would never happen.
It doesn’t matter anyways because it’s not like I want to continue talking about it now either, I feel uncomfortable.
I went on a binge, completely out of control this time. I never drank like that. I was chugging down vodka at the end. In between, I went to a hospital due to severe anxiety. A couple days after my discharge I went back to drinking (I used that note to buy myself more drinking time and not get fired from my job, even though at the end I resigned, never went back to be more accurate).
I needed to share my secret with a stranger. I had to tell someone…
That was the reason why I resigned from that job. I was so drunk. I went insane from keeping my true hurts and worries. I have never admitted anything to anyone. I was scared to sound insane and creepy but somehow I texted my superior. I dont know why her? Maybe because she saved my ass from getting fired before (idk if she consciously tried to save me or if I manipulated my way through). I told her the truth, I am not sure if she completely understood me because I was wasted out of my mind…
The reason why I told her the truth is because I didn’t know if I would make it this time and I was tired of holding on to all my secrets. The last time I went on such a binge my heart needed to be shocked back into its rhythm.
After opening up to her (I know it’s fucking odd as fuck) I continued hopelessly drinking. My memory is blurry. I never looked through the text messages I sent her, just glanced because I was scared of what I had shared. I hope she didn’t freak out too much. I have deleted them including her number. I hope I will never meet her again, she was the first person in my entire life that I have opened up to.
I will never understand why did I have to go through it in such a complicated and shameful way instead of being a normal person.
I shared those text messages with the admitting nurse and doctor as well when I went back to the emergency room. I wanted someone to see because I think I was ready to let go…
I broke free…
Ever since I have shared my story 4 times.
I still cant believe that strangers can care about you and lend you their hand…
I needed someone to show me that I am not inferior. Even though I am not yet comfortable with my feelings, but I needed someone not to freak out on me when I took the risk and told them what I needed to say. I needed someone to acknowledge that I exist, that I am here. I needed someone to tell me that they have been there too. I needed them to share some of their problems with me so I wouldn’t feel insane about mine. I needed someone to see how badly I wanted out. I needed someone to tell me that I can do this. I needed someone to show me how. I needed someone to care. I needed someone to believe in me…
When I was drinking I was only allowed to do 3 things
I think this is why I partially went insane. When I was drinking during those six years I would do this every single day Monday to Sunday:
- Go to work
- Go to the store and get either beer or food, if I was drinking that day I didn’t give a fuck about food because food slows down your body from absorbing alcohol.
- Watch tv or play video games.
When I went to rehab I didn’t talk at all. Combine my quiet personality with being pinned down and living in my head for six years and you have a selective mutism. Most people didn’t understand that I needed time to rearrange things in my head. I was focused on changing myself, taking in as much information as I could, trying to apply it. I was in shock over what it was happening to me, so much stress.
For other people rehab seemed like a second home, maybe cause they’d been there so many times. I could never understand that. The funniest part of all is that they took me for granted, all five of my roommates have relapsed, but I am glad for the ones who had the courage to come back for treatment.. But I am not going to lie I would always have everyone’s attention when I would speak (but I spoke rarely). I would have this “wow” factor simply because I am such a “deep guy.” Feedback would always be “oh you’re so deep”, same in intensive outpatient program. One person said I was deep because I always analyze everything in my head. Maybe, *rolling eyes*
When I have a bad craving and don’t want my sobriety
I think about all of them. I think about all the people who believed in me. Who made my rehab possible. I think about all the effort that they put in to reaching me. Me not wanting to disappoint them gives me strenght so I continue moving through the sea of pain telling myself: “this will pass,” “this will pass.”
You can be sure of one thing happening to you once you stop drinking
Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.-Your brain never stops telling you this. Its like a mental abuse that never ends.
Please can you stop?-I ask politely
No. Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink…
Drinking dreams from the past
I am not going to lie: the first time you have them you get kind of fascinated. But then they never end. They fucking keep on haunting you. You wake up all confused not knowing or thinking that you have relapsed. After getting a D.U.I. I am naturally scared to be involved with police. My dreams involve police. It gets so weird to the point where I get solicited by hookers and have to deal with the leopard in the cage. Then I try to run from police and they always get me. Its scary because I ruin my life in front of my own eyes but the leopard has thought me a lesson. I woke up in my dream and realized that I have to accept the pain and just keep on going. I told myself consciously while sleeping: “Ignore the pain and focus on where you’re going, that’s the only way you will ever figure this thing out”.
I secretly visit the last bar I drank at so I can sit at the same place where I once sat hopelessly broken
I like looking at those display bottles. So many different kinds. I count how many there are and then I remember how no one cared. I was screaming inside myself for anyone to notice me and help me. I was begging and pleading. I always sat alone. I never talk, just think. I love thinking. There are no boundaries where you can go with your thoughts.
In reality I looked like another drunk. Through the eyes of anyone sober I couldn’t have been taken seriously. I was a liability. Even if I cried my tears wouldn’t have been valid, I was under the influence.
Being broken wasn’t valid either because I was a fucking coward. A crybaby.
I always try to go back in time and feel all my pain. It hasn’t been that long but I find that it is fading. I want to draw emotion from every hurt there ever was because I need it to move forward. I can’t forget because I will end up in the same shit hole. I need to find reasons so I can continue dealing with the leopard.
This is my song from the past that I always played/play when I go there:
Its either pain or the highway
Doing Intensive outpatient program right after rehab was everything. It was much needed transitional support. My feelings were overwhelming, I was tired as hell (still am). My acid reflux was totally out of control which would trigger my anxiety. I didn’t even know that your messed-up digestive system can cause anxiety.
I just recently started running and my acid reflux has subsided a bit. I guess drinking apple cider vinegar really helps.
I found a job, ironically one of the closest jobs to my house. I guess that was one of the AA promises? lol
When I left rehab I was ready to change everything, so fueled up, but my health was stopping me. I was doing a lot. Going to 3 meetings a week, meditation, intensive outpatient program, taking risks. Now it’s all fucked but I read a lot, still have my coloring habit. I have slowed down but I will push myself. I need to go back to basic outpatient program as well, haven’t been there in a month. I mean it’s hard cause they usually go through the same stuff, it’s almost like going to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and listening to the same jargon over and over again. It makes me want to vomit sometimes.sometimes.
- Staying sober;
- Rebuilding my energy back;
- Self development;
- Becoming self employed;
- Eventually going back to school and finishing associates in small business administration (for starters);
I guess there are some goals that I don’t even have the guts to start working on even though I want them so badly. I always thought that it was due to my procrastination but I am starting to realize that it could be due to me not believing that I can accomplish them and being scared.
My sobriety rules
- Stop thinking that you deserve to be happy and so just because you are not you have the right to drink, to even out the scales (let go of all the ideas of what happiness is because happiness doesn’t have a form, it is not a specific thing nor something specific that has to happen for you to be happy)
- Accept the pain. It’s only in pain that we transform. You need to welcome it because that’s the only way things will ever change. Not facing your pain is like saying I don’t want anything to change, I am fine where I am.
- Start believing that you can, any sort of meetings like aa, smart recovery seeing your therapist can show you that yes, in fact you can
- Take responsibility for yourself. Only you can save yourself or stop yourself from drinking. It is your responsibility to find ways in which to cope and actually cope. Sometimes being the winner means that you will be the one who will lose the most and come out completely destroyed. “I am not a victim, I am a survivor” (repeat this every day till you start believing and acting like one)
- Fall in love with yourself.
These rules been inspired by my counselor from rehab. I only talked to her a few times but it’s ironic how much she has influenced my sobriety. I remember when I went to her office for the first time, fuck was she cold I thought. She has a tough exterior just because she needs to protect all the jelly inside. She immediately took me out of the victim role. I started consciously being aware of myself trying to play boohoo poor me feelings. Hearing what you don’t want to hear are those things that need to be cherished the most. She gave me some of the best advice that has kept me sober till this day. I am happy that I was able to face what I didn’t want to hear.
Needless to say she took her time after I left rehab to let me know that she was proud of my effort and the changes that I was making. She is the only person who told me she was proud of me when it comes to sobriety and probably my whole life…
Best answer that I found to “is alcoholism a disease?”
There is bitter debate over this question, as if the answer would have great importance to those who drink too much. Alas, it doesn’t matter, because the solution is the same. If alcoholism is a disease and you have a drinking problem, you will become progressively more sick unless you stop drinking. But if alcoholism isn’t a disease, and you are having persistent problems related to drinking, you had also better learn to abstain. Abstinence is simply the final stage in ones effort to moderate, when it becomes easier to quit for good than to moderate. Abstinence is also commonplace thing that human beings have been achieving for millennia without the assistance of alcoholics anonymous or any other recovery program. In RR, we know that either way, disease or not, we are not powerless.-Small book
A lot of people like focusing on this question because the answer decides how they will be judged. If it’s a disease they might decide to hide behind it because it’s much easier than facing the pain of stopping their drinking. I heard countless times in meetings people using this sentence “it’s a disease” to justify their relapse.
In my opinion stigma has a lot to do with everything. Alcohol is everywhere, movies, songs, commercials and our culture. Alcohol is cool and if you can’t properly poison yourself you are perceived as a failure. Moreover, the more you use alcohol the higher chance of addiction, just like with every other drug, that’s how alcohol works on human bodies. I like how AA says that you are bodily different then normal people. I wonder when did it became normal to poison yourself? Ironically alcohol itself isn’t perceived as a poison even though it is used in the medical field as a disinfectant to kill bacteria. Does it change its properties when you put it in your body?
Given the fact that alcohol is a 400 billion dollar industry just in the U.S. alone, it is safe to assume that our culture is structured to mask the alcoholism. Only when you become totally out of control do you get labeled as an alcoholic. As long as you are functioning you are not perceived and stigmatized for being an alcoholic. But unfortunately there are so many people addicted to alcohol these days that almost everyone knows someone or is even affected by their addiction thus forcing the stigma to slowly die especially with recent drug addiction wave.
Stigma is a killer.
So called spiritual awakening…
Did you ever think, as a hearse goes by,
That you might be the next to die?
They wrap you up in a big white sheet,
And bury you down about six feet deep
They put you in a big black box,
And cover you up with dirt and rocks,
And all goes well, for about a week,
And then the coffin begins to leak!
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
The worms play pinochle on your snout.
They eat your eyes, they eat your nose,
They eat the jelly between your toes.
A great big worm with rolling eyes,
Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes,
Your stomach turns a slimy green,
And pus pours out like whipping cream.
You spread it on a slice of bread,
And that’s what you eat when you are dead.
So my journey continues, where I am trying to escape from the chains of my addiction and work towards becoming a better person…
-Anonymous (sorry, English is my second language, expect mistakes and weird sentences)
You can contact me at anonymousATialcoholrecovery.com