Although this is my first post, I have perused a couple of threads and I generally like the atmosphere. It is kind of tough to say that I'm just starting out, since I began this journey a bit over a year ago, but that's pretty insignificant in terms of my (hopefully) long and healthy life. Anyhow, I've taken to feeling a bit lonely, and I want to reach out some. I'm usually long-winded but not outspoken, so read on if you dare
If it's alright, actually, I'd like to introduce myself in the form of the "lead" that I will likely never give. I stopped going to AA several months ago, and I don't wish to arouse any ire from step-folk, but I can positively say that the decision was right for me. That said, as a newcomer in AA, I did often daydream about earning the esteem of an old-timer and giving an earnest "lead" that would touch people. My intentions aren't as ambitious, anymore, but I do like to talk about myself, anyhow
I come from a pretty well-to-do family. Naturally, we have some dysfunction, but not to a crippling extent. I'm the youngest of four. My parents are considerably older, having birthed me in their mid-forties. They've told me that they are not sure they made a good decision in having me, as they were not able to focus much on my upbringing. Indeed, I had a pretty perilous adolescence.
I am shy, overly self-conscious, and generally of that type. I was never without friends but I sure did have a hard time getting along later in my teenage years. My first girlfriend was at age thirteen, and I lost my virginity to her. Being a real sucker for amore, I got pretty attached, and went through a harrowing breakup that I didn't handle well. It happened that about this time, I discovered my dad's liquor cabinet, and made good use of it, too.
The many different ways I worked myself into that collection of bottles would make a good dinner-tale, except that it is hard to laugh at the matter anymore. My dad first fastened a latch and lock on the cabinet, however it was still possible to open the cabinet enough to get the lid off a bottle. So I took to siphoning my booze with a short tube that my dad kept around for his model airplane hobby. After that, it was a turkey baster with a straw. Once he discovered the baster, he claimed that he had removed all liquor from the house, and sure enough I believed it. That was fine, for a while.
So I was about fourteen when I discovered drinking as a way of escaping my problems. My biggest problem being the aforementioned breakup, which I took out on myself in a bad way, and ended up in a hospital to be treated for severe depression and numerous lacerations on my wrists. That rolled over, and was mostly the end of that, as I had found camaraderie with a group of misfits that I smoked and drank with. We got along well, by and by, and I found my dad's liquor cache and abused it for years afterward, since he couldn't conceive that I could get to it.
I'll skip details since I imagine this isn't mighty interesting to anyone but myself. My gang and I got into all sorts of drugs, until late in high school when my emotional problems resurfaced. I had crippling social anxiety. I slept through lunches at a table by myself, and a girl had gotten me into the bad habit of skipping class. By my senior year I was again trying to kill myself, and I dropped out of high school as a result. Things looked pretty bleak and I spent some time in considerable isolation, trying earnestly to end myself.
Of course, it was a woman that pulled me out of it. A fine one, too, that had been after me since my initial folly with my first girlfriend. I got into community college and easily passed on to a University. This was pretty big news for me, and I felt some purpose again, and I resolved to become a computer programmer. For the record, I'm a senior now, with a 3.4 GPA, having been sidetracked a bit by my recent lapse into alcohol abuse. If you knew me, you wouldn't be surprised that said lapse occurred around the time my relationship ended.
The year I turned twenty-one I also moved into a single-bedroom apartment. I didn't take to going out much. In fact, I mostly moved there so I could be alone with my partner, who had found other activities more appealing. They say opposites attract and so it's no surprise I'd end up with an outgoing gal. Instead I took to drinking in the company of my computer, and though I did well-enough with my studies, my drinking had progressed to binges before the end of the academic year. I had my first alcohol withdrawal, complete with nightmares, night sweats, shakes, and all of that stuff. That's when I recognized I needed to do something. Come summer, the relationship was officially over, and I guessed correctly that my girlfriend had been seeing someone else.
I walked to my first AA meeting, probably a couple of miles, seeing as I had spent all my money and couldn't afford gas. Immediately I met someone who offered to be my sponsor. He's still a friend of mine now, and a genuinely good guy. I read the big book and found consolation in it, but that wasn't enough to keep me from drinking, and I continued binging for days at a time before drying up for the remainder of the summer.
At the start of the school year I went back to drinking, though not as severely. Still, it wasn't long before I found that I didn't like the amount of pressure I was under, so I took the easy way out and checked into a detox facility. Thankfully I was reimbursed tuition, but it's still a smudge on my transcript I struggle to forgive myself for.
I got exactly what I expected from the treatment: AA indoctrination. They had me abandon my apartment and move into a halfway house. Their outpatient therapy could be called attack therapy, and I was subjected to a lot of that, being a particularly needy case. And so I spent many months in and out of halfway houses, failing to "get it" and ever be fully happy with my circumstance. I didn't fit in with the lot of the folks, but I made a few good friends that I had some good times with.
I'll fast forward, since all that needs to be said is that I struggled to stay sober. Three months was my maximum achievement. I worked, went to school, and generally did well for myself, in that respect. Come last fall I went back to drinking, did the detox deal again, and felt fearsomely rotten about the whole thing. At that point I'd rather be buried than put in another halfway house, so I rented a room from an NA fella while I took classes at the local university. There, I had even another binge, and that was sort of a breakthrough for me, if you want to call it that.
I was quite used to the routine of dragging my feet back to AA, tail between legs, trying to figure out how to revolutionize myself. This time, I couldn't do it. I had another mess to tend to. "What is different, this time?" to which I said, "Nothing." About this time I stumbled on the lot of AA-critical literature and really relieved myself of the burden altogether. Since then, though I've drank, it was not even comparably gruesome to what I'd put myself through before. In fact, my opinions on the matter have changed absolutely, and I feel that I'm better for it. I've found supplemental help in place of AA and really only miss a couple of the people that I came to know.
edit: I mean no disrespect; this is only my experience, and my opinions are no more valuable than that of another.
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