When did you know it was time?

When did you know it was time? Be honest.
A few things for me, but one that stood out was when I walked into the liquor store one day. The guy who’s always there was promoting a new wine. A Merlot. I heard him say to his manager ‘oh this guy (me) is a Merlot guy. We’ll have him try a sample. And not going to buy beer at a certain store because the same person was working there from the day before and they’d see me buying more beer.
I’m sure we all have our reasons.
Please feel free to share some.
NO JUDGMENT here.

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There are so many things, but one that comes to mind was when my husband was looking for something and he went into my craft room and I panicked and tried to intervene and ask what he was looking for because the room was full of hidden empties. Everywhere. He looked at me funny but didn’t say anything as I shooed him out of there.

Another: I was in the middle of a sober streak and was putting towels away and a couple of cans fell out of the linens closet when I was moving towels around. No memory of putting them there. So glad that was so long ago now.

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I knew when I was puking up Miller ponies in 1977 that alcohol didn’t sit well with me.

I knew when I was trying to quit so I wouldn’t get into rip roaring fights with my abusive 1st husband and get the shit beaten out of me in 1989.

I knew when I totalled another car…1975, 1986, 1995, etc.

I knew when I crapped my pants wasted in a hotel dragging my belongings in a laundry basket after a drunken fight with my 2nd husband circa 2000ish.

I knew when I woke up next to strange person # ? any given day 1980 to 2000.

I knew when I had spent the past several years pondering suicide to end the pain of disappointing myself again with another drunken xyz.

I knew when suicide was my nightly friend.

I could go on and on and on and on…

I knew…

I knew…

I knew…

I knew for decades.

But it is easier to go along, chase that high, exist in the only way you know how.

Leaving that life behind me was the true blessing of my life.

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Know or admit I know? Big distinction. By the time I was 16 I knew that my drinkig was certainly abnormal. Didn’t admit to myself until 12 years later that there was a problem. Then 2 years more until I admitted it someone else. Then 6 months until I sought treatment. Then 18 more months of trying to do it my way. Then sobriety finally stuck. That was almost 4 years ago.

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Great question. I suggest we all know for long long that something is seriously wrong. We just avoid thinking about it.
About me…hmmm
I started feeling very lonely in the Bars i used to go to. I kept on thinking “i don’t belong here”. No friend there , no fun , nothing , just alcohol and lies and fake relationships… Besides that i had to deal with the fact that i more or less was pushing away from me each and everyone that really loved me. Its not a moment… its a process i suppose…
–used to drink a bottle of vodka a day 15years…and now almost a year sober …
Take care all

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I planned myself a going a way party. Went out…drank heavily…had sex with several women…because it was going to be my last night on the planet. Next day I woke up, gun in one hand, bottle of Jack in the other.

Long story short, drank…then put the gun in my mouth. God intervened…and I got sober. I knew if I drank again, I would finish the job.

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There were so many moments that made me say “I need to quit”, but when did I know it was time?

I guess it was when I was hiding in the garage chugging a couple warm tall boys of hurricane ice malt liquor and trying not to puke from the putrid taste. Then forcing myself to finish them. I was literally forcing myself to drink and hating myself for it. I knew then, it was time to quit.

The thing is, it took a while. Months maybe years before I actually quit. But I am here now, not drinking today.

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Everytime read your story, it gives me chills! Glad a higher power intervened!!

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I can only imagine the years of pain and heart ache through all that sassy.

But here you are, trying to help anyone that needs to vent or seeking advice, including myself.

God bless :pray:

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Wow, where do I begin. I have been drinking to intoxication for about 36 years, since I was 16ish. I have now been sober for three months today. The only time I can recall being sober for this long was in Army basic training and AIT. Next month I plan to surpass that time as well. I knew it was time a good while ago, but I really got tired of feeling guilty when I’d wake up the next day and not know who or how much I needed to apologize for my actions the previous night. I had no recollection of the previous night on almost every occasion I was able to drink.

I really appreciate this topic because it reminds me of so many reasons I chose to seek freedom and sobriety!

Thank you all for the inspirational posts and all the cumulative experience that you all share. This community has helped me truly understand what I was never sure of on my own, I’m truly not alone in this.
Thanks!

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My now 14 year old sons father died at age 49, when my son was 5. His cause of death was bladder cancer/cirrhosis of the liver. I can’t imagine leaving my son parentless especially due to alcohol. September 6th, labor day I had a few beers, experienced reverse tolerance and then threw up black by beer 6 to 8 (not sure). Still a low number for me, as I am a binge drinker that can pour 15 down my throat easily and still go to work the next morning. Anyway, that was my wake up call. I’m tearing up typing this. 31 days sober, 10 millionth try at sobriety. Seems much easier this go around, as it’s life or death now.

“I WILL die an Alcoholic, but Alcoholism will NOT kill me!!!” <— my new motto

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I knew from the very start took that first drink it took me out of my reality an i became something else.Last 3 drunks were complete black outs, jail and hospital cuffed to the bed no recollection of what id done again, like a game of russian roulette. Took 25 years of playing the game for me to see that i wasnt invisible and sooner or later id be dead or locked in prison for life. Being a prisoner of the state didnt scare me it was being trapped in the misery in my head that i couldnt get away from, that was going to drive me over the edge. Had to loose my mind and my freedom to find my way out of hell, but im here still with a chance to make it at life after so many chances that couldve put me under, greatfull to be finding my way back and thankfull to God for sparing me.

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My wife almost left me…that was enough for me.

That was the day I had my last drink. I joined this community the next day. It’s been a wild sober ride since then. Our marriage has never been better than it is now and I wouldn’t change a thing. I appreciate life so much more now having been through everything I have.

I knew I had a problem way before then, but I didn’t care about anything enough to quit until that happened.

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I hope I never forget that day.

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That shit was my M.O. in college. Pure gasoline. Could get drunk as hell for ~$6-7
I tried to shotgun one of those tallboys before work once. I got about 3/4 through and my stomach fought back. I think malt beer foam shot out of every hole in my head :roll_eyes:

You can bet I tried again.

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Oufff your stories are all giving me the chills.
So much strength to be here and telling your stories.

@HoofHearted you described so clearly what I’ve been doing in the morning or any when, the secret drinking of non-enjoyable drinks, and hating myself while doing so. Is it weird that reading such thing, even if it’s the worse thoughts of drinking, make me still feel kind of miserable, and still sparks the craving switch? It’s horrible - the feeling of hating what you’re doing, but at the same time couldn’t think of another way of doing, and that this feeling of being lost itself give yourself a reason to drink…

I am so happy this spiral is over. But reading you all made me realize how fragile sobriety is. Just imagine myself drinking makes me see where it will end. I just can’t.

I had a lot of wake up calls. Loosing relationships, loosing sanity, almost life. Last time I woke up hurtled bad. Couldn’t dare to look at myself for days. Asked for help. Then commited to keeping myself alive.

Thank you all for sharing :raised_hands:t2:

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Oh man, it’s painful to read all of your stories because they remind me of myself so much. Glad you’re all here.
I now see the first signs at age 16, when I drank every weekend until I puked and was proud of it.
I should have know when I rode a bike blackout drunk an knocked out 3 of my front teeth at 24.
I first thought about it when I had a broken leg and collarbone and could hardly move, but still dragged myself to the store to buy beer in order to drink it in my room alone at 26.
I constantly thought about it until I got sober at the age of 30 when:
I drank whiskey out of a coffee cup on the bus
I told everybody my shaking hands were because of my new espresso machine, even though nobody asked about it
I constantly drank and secretly replaced my roommates liquor
I came home from parties to finally start drinking “properly” alone in my room untli I passed out
I raided my dad’s liquor cabinet every time I came to visit my parents and slept the rest of the visit (they thought their poor girl was exhausted from work. yeah)
I had a nervous breakdown in front of a closed supermarket (no booze available)
Strange guys in my appartment when I woke up, as well as waking up in unknown surroundings
Oh man, the list could go on endless … god I’m glad I’m sober today

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In retrospect, the addict habits and tendencies were always there. I was always the one in my friend group in high school harping on getting drugs or alcohol. I was always the one suggesting more. I drank and used drugs alone fairly early on. I didn’t go to high school senior prom, I went home and drank 12 Rolling Rocks and watched “Nightmare on Elm Street”. I remember my first day drinking session - freshman year of college, drinking shit red table wine out of a gallon jug while watching “Scarface”, alone, on a Tuesday afternoon. Magical (I say it with irony now, but it really felt that way at the time).

I suppose I “knew it” all along. Shattering my nose on 3 separate occasions was a good thing to really drive it home.
Never a fight, either. Just drunken clumsiness. First time was a door, 2nd a staircase, 3rd a sidewalk - that was the worst one. I had been out drinking with friends and they left but I stayed behind. Walking back to my buddies place alone in a sketchy neighborhood, tripped over a curb, lights out.
Apparently I found my way back to my friends’ place, but the police had been called due to the huge pool of blood on the pavement and I guess several of my personal belongings scattered around. That sidewalk is still stained with it, last I checked - that was 10 years ago. They called my Mom in the middle of the night and…yeah, it kinda looked like a mugging gone awry (murder) so it was a pretty scary call for her to get.

My drunk ass was being overly flirty with the ER nurse when I got to the hospital, and not in a respectful way (all talk, no physical thankfully). I still feel like such a dickhead for that. Glad I’m not that person and haven’t been for a very long time.

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I also had a lot of drunken accidents … I’m really sorry you had to go through all that!
I canalso really relate to what you said about your first daydrinking session being magical. I had the same experience when I moved out of my parents, I have some “fond” memories of that time. I romanticized the shit out of alcohol. I thought my day drinking made me some edgy, hedonistic, rebel. I loved it. Today I can also see the irony of myself buying into that false narrative … glad to be on the other side.

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When I started hiding bottles.

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