Day one. I’m laying in bed, nursing a hangover, and experiencing the joys of alcohol withdrawal. Night sweats, anxiety, nightmares, heart pain, nausea, slight tremors and, of course, depression.
The past year and a half has been the worst chapter of my life. It started when my step-father killed himself. He blew his brains out while in my mother’s bed. I had to be the one to clean his brains off the carpet. Fortunately, my mother wasn’t there when it happened, but it she was the one to find him. I had no love for this man, he was cruel to me my entire life, so I can’t say I miss him.
I have had a drinking problem for years, but it got much worse after this. My fiance left me because of it. She was the one good thing in my life, and I have only myself to blame. In retrospect, it was never going to work out. We were incompatible.
After she left, I tried to kill myself. I thought about shooting myself, but I couldn’t do that to my mom, especially not with the gun I inherented from my step-father. So instead I decided drinking myself to death would be the way. I almost succeeded. I called my jobs and told them I wouldn’t be able to work for a while, and proceeded to drink three handles of vodka over a six day period. I have never been so sick. Seizures, jaundice and delirium tremens are not great. The hallucinations were disturbing. It was hell. I should have go to the hospital.
Well, the weeks went by and I became more and more depressed. The break-up was good, as far as these things go. We texted for a while, sharing photos of our time together, expressing that we still care about eachother, and that we just weren’t meant to be. And then we said goodbye. She was my best friend, and I miss her every day.
Needless to say, my drinking got worse. I nearly lost both of my jobs for drinking at work. Living in the house where there were so many happy memories was torture. Everything reminded me of her. I had to leave.
My mother suggested I move with her to Michigan, and I did. I’ve been here for a few months and I regret it immensely. The people here are vacuous jackasses. They’re crude, vulgar drug addicts who don’t read, and have nothing to say beyond work and gossip.
I got a job loading trucks. It’s not bad, the pay is decent and I listen to books on tape all day. If it weren’t for that, I would have lost my mind. My coworkers talk about the dumbest shit, and play the worst God damn music. One coworker plays the same station every day. If I have to hear Achy Breaky Heart one more time I might crush her speaker.
I’ve been trying to make friends, but it’s been difficult to find anyone who isn’t a complete moron. I’m personable, intelligent, and at times, funny. But these people show no interest in me whatsoever. And I’m not interested in them either, so some days I go without speaking to anyone.
I finally admitted to my mother that I have a drinking problem, hoping for support. She was livid. Instead of compassion, I was chastised, and she said she would not live with a drunk. I promised to get better, but that was a lie. It would seem alcohol has rendered my word worthless.
So I don’t seek support from her. I avoid her now. Sometimes I don’t leave my room. Fortunately she respects my privacy, so that’s nice. But I’ve never felt so alone in my life. I have no one to talk to.
I’m ready to start dating, but it’s hard when your 34 and live in your mother’s basement. What’s more, there isn’t anywhere to meet people here other than a bar or church. So when I do go out, it’s either to the library or the movie theater. Neither place is great for talking to people. I like this girl who works at the library, but it’s been slow going. I feel like I’m talking at her, rather than with her. I ask her questions about herself, she answers, and that’s it. I don’t know if it’s because she’s shy, or just isn’t interested. Oh well, plenty of fish in the sea, right? But the fish here are mostly fat, drug addicted hillbillies.
So I read, and that’s about it. I’d go hiking or mountain biking, but it rains every day up here. Regardless, I don’t have the strength to do anything physical as my job is extremely rigorous. Add a crippling alcohol addiction and I’m left completely spent every day.
They say a heavy drinker is someone who consumes over 15 drinks a week. I have stretches where I consume 15 drinks A DAY. I am in constant pain, but when I try to stop, the withdrawals are awful. I don’t sleep. I sweat like crazy. I have nightmares. I am constantly anxious. I’m so lonely.
The world is bleak. I read far too much news. I have no direction in life. I plan to enroll into college this year, if only to meet people who aren’t complete idiots.
I’m ashamed of myself. I feel so lost.
Well, that’s it. Best of luck to everyone and there attempts to sobriety. It’s a bitch.
