Well, since today is 30 days AF for me, I decided to type out ?my story?. I tried to summarise as best I could, but it?s still pretty wordy. I appreciate that people may not have time to read such a rambling, but it helped me to type it out and actually see what my story was, so here goes...
I grew up surrounded with a lot of alcohol, drug addiction and violence in my family. My mum and Dad were heavy drinkers, my older brother was a heroin addict since I was a child and my older sister also got hooked on heroin when I was in my late teens.
I started drinking when I was 14. I can remember my first proper drink ? my mum and Dad were out and I invited some older girls who had a carry out into the house. It was small bottles of cider. I remember the confidence it gave me after a few bottles and how funny and entertaining I seemed to become. After the bottles of cider were finished I stole a bottle of Southern Comfort from my big brother's wardrobe and started to drink that, ending up paraletic. I managed to crawl into my bed before my big bro/mum/dad got in. But then I woke up with the room spinning and started to crawl on all fours up the stairs shouting 'help me' whilst spewing. Not a very pleasant or successful first time on the booze.
Throughout my teens, I continued to drink at the weekends, enjoying my new found popularity due to being full of bravado. Parental supervision was minimal as my mum and dad were pissed a lot anyway. Then I met a guy when I was 19 who also liked to drink. He moved in with me in my mum and dad's and we would basically drink vodka on a Tuesday and Thursday night and also a Friday and Saturday religiously as we had the house to ourselves as my mum and dad would be out drinking on those days.
A year later, when I turned 20, a few tragedies struck in quick concession - my nephew got knocked down and killed, 3 months later my mum died 2 hours after the Bells and then my gran died a few months after that. In addition to this, my older sister who had gotten hooked on heroin in recent years had moved away to London after her wee boy and our mum died, where she ended up going AWOL/missing for several years after taking a breakdown, running away and abandoning her other 2 kids. My Dad had also gone completely off the rails with his drinking and was going missing for days on end etc and turning up at the house legless all the time or was being found passed out in houses, pubs, the street and hospital on occasion. I was devastated and heartbroken at all these people I loved dying or self-destructing and felt like I was in a living hell trying to deal with all of this at the one time. I really couldn't cope and started taking regular panic attacks and episodes of extreme anxiety. The only thing that took these feelings away was alcohol, so my drinking got worse and worse and I also started self harming by cutting myself.
I would basically drink until I passed out to blank everything out. This pretty much continued for years and my ex-partner's heavy drinking continued also. Then when I was 30, my older sister who had been missing was found in a mental inpatient hospital in Dorset. Tragically, 2 years later, after progressing to an out-patient, she was found dead in her bed with pneumonia.
I was 32 at this point and my relationship with my partner had already started to break down mainly due to our alcohol abuse, but my sisters death escalated everything and I finished the relationship. My ex-partner went off his head and started pestering, stalking, threatening to kill himself, turning up at my house and work all the time, phoning constantly etc etc all whilst blind drunk. I dealt with this the same way I had learned to deal with everything - by locking myself in my house and drinking myself into oblivion as it made my fear and anxiety disappear ? well, until the next day. The harassment from my ex-partner has continued unbelievably to the present day which has brought on so much stress and anxiety ? I have court for the 2nd time in March next year against him after he turned up causing grief over a month ago. Bail conditions are currently in place which has alleviated a bit of anxiety for me.
When I was 34 I met a wonderful guy and our love quickly blossomed. He knew about my past, knew about the on-going hassle from my ex-partner and also that I drank "to cope" with anxiety, stress and depression and my excuse was that I drank ?because of everything I had gone through? but I kept insisting that I was going to tackle it, but I knew I was in trouble when I couldn?t even manage to cut down, on the contrary ? the more I tried to moderate, the more I would drink. He never knew the full extent of my drinking though, until he moved in with me over a year ago, although I did manage to hide it a lot as he works constant nightshifts which gave me plenty of time to drink alone which suited me just fine.
It all came to a head 30 days ago when he came home early from work and I was sitting bawling my eyes out paraletic on the couch with headphones on and eyes shut. I didn?t even know that he had been standing there for a while, nor that he had found my front door lying wide open. In the morning, I couldn?t even remember seeing or speaking to him. For some reason, that night was the turning point for me. Enough was enough and I meant it this time.
And, here I am, 30 days later.
I grew up surrounded with a lot of alcohol, drug addiction and violence in my family. My mum and Dad were heavy drinkers, my older brother was a heroin addict since I was a child and my older sister also got hooked on heroin when I was in my late teens.
I started drinking when I was 14. I can remember my first proper drink ? my mum and Dad were out and I invited some older girls who had a carry out into the house. It was small bottles of cider. I remember the confidence it gave me after a few bottles and how funny and entertaining I seemed to become. After the bottles of cider were finished I stole a bottle of Southern Comfort from my big brother's wardrobe and started to drink that, ending up paraletic. I managed to crawl into my bed before my big bro/mum/dad got in. But then I woke up with the room spinning and started to crawl on all fours up the stairs shouting 'help me' whilst spewing. Not a very pleasant or successful first time on the booze.
Throughout my teens, I continued to drink at the weekends, enjoying my new found popularity due to being full of bravado. Parental supervision was minimal as my mum and dad were pissed a lot anyway. Then I met a guy when I was 19 who also liked to drink. He moved in with me in my mum and dad's and we would basically drink vodka on a Tuesday and Thursday night and also a Friday and Saturday religiously as we had the house to ourselves as my mum and dad would be out drinking on those days.
A year later, when I turned 20, a few tragedies struck in quick concession - my nephew got knocked down and killed, 3 months later my mum died 2 hours after the Bells and then my gran died a few months after that. In addition to this, my older sister who had gotten hooked on heroin in recent years had moved away to London after her wee boy and our mum died, where she ended up going AWOL/missing for several years after taking a breakdown, running away and abandoning her other 2 kids. My Dad had also gone completely off the rails with his drinking and was going missing for days on end etc and turning up at the house legless all the time or was being found passed out in houses, pubs, the street and hospital on occasion. I was devastated and heartbroken at all these people I loved dying or self-destructing and felt like I was in a living hell trying to deal with all of this at the one time. I really couldn't cope and started taking regular panic attacks and episodes of extreme anxiety. The only thing that took these feelings away was alcohol, so my drinking got worse and worse and I also started self harming by cutting myself.
I would basically drink until I passed out to blank everything out. This pretty much continued for years and my ex-partner's heavy drinking continued also. Then when I was 30, my older sister who had been missing was found in a mental inpatient hospital in Dorset. Tragically, 2 years later, after progressing to an out-patient, she was found dead in her bed with pneumonia.
I was 32 at this point and my relationship with my partner had already started to break down mainly due to our alcohol abuse, but my sisters death escalated everything and I finished the relationship. My ex-partner went off his head and started pestering, stalking, threatening to kill himself, turning up at my house and work all the time, phoning constantly etc etc all whilst blind drunk. I dealt with this the same way I had learned to deal with everything - by locking myself in my house and drinking myself into oblivion as it made my fear and anxiety disappear ? well, until the next day. The harassment from my ex-partner has continued unbelievably to the present day which has brought on so much stress and anxiety ? I have court for the 2nd time in March next year against him after he turned up causing grief over a month ago. Bail conditions are currently in place which has alleviated a bit of anxiety for me.
When I was 34 I met a wonderful guy and our love quickly blossomed. He knew about my past, knew about the on-going hassle from my ex-partner and also that I drank "to cope" with anxiety, stress and depression and my excuse was that I drank ?because of everything I had gone through? but I kept insisting that I was going to tackle it, but I knew I was in trouble when I couldn?t even manage to cut down, on the contrary ? the more I tried to moderate, the more I would drink. He never knew the full extent of my drinking though, until he moved in with me over a year ago, although I did manage to hide it a lot as he works constant nightshifts which gave me plenty of time to drink alone which suited me just fine.
It all came to a head 30 days ago when he came home early from work and I was sitting bawling my eyes out paraletic on the couch with headphones on and eyes shut. I didn?t even know that he had been standing there for a while, nor that he had found my front door lying wide open. In the morning, I couldn?t even remember seeing or speaking to him. For some reason, that night was the turning point for me. Enough was enough and I meant it this time.
And, here I am, 30 days later.
Comment