Some of the things that led me to seek help: nearly losing my job, riding my motorbike under the influence on a daily basis and falling off so many times it was ridiculous (plus the cuts weren't healing), delirium tremens on a daily basis that weren't going away no matter how much I drank, riding to the 24 hour store at 3am to pick up more wine and having to drive with one hand over my eye so I could be sure which side of the road I was on, queuing up at the cashier and turning round to see 2 police behind me.
'Bit early for that isn't it, sir?'
'Oh, I work nights, I've just come off shift'
I must have reeked. How I got away with that I'll never know.
Anyway, you get the picture...throwing up wine in my mouth and swallowing it back down so as not to waste it. Not knowing who or what I was. But the reduction worked, and I had my last drink on Christmas Eve last year.
Things were amazing. These last months have been without a doubt the best of my life. I was for the first time in my whole life authentic, and I loved it. I was even able to go to parties and took pleasure in not drinking.
Then 3 weeks ago, I was at a wedding. It was just after the service, and everyone was drinking champagne, except me and another woman. I said I'd go and ask at the bar if they had any non alcoholic beer we could toast the bride with. She said, 'oh just get me a small something if not. They didn't, so I brought a half a shandy for the woman and a soda and lime for me. I brought the shandy back to her, she looked at me in disgust and said 'I'm not drinking that!' and flounced off.
I thought 'well fuck YOU then' and I drank it. That is all I remember about the wedding, but it switched something in me...I started drinking like a bastard, instantly straight back to my old levels. There was a fight, I insulted the bride's family. I remember nothing of this. The next day I somehow got myself back to London, drinking all the way. I missed work, didn't call in or anything. My girlfriend had alerted my little brother, he drove 3 hours to come and pick me up and bring me back to where my family live. Again, most of this is a blackout, but I managed to convince everyone that I could reduce again, except I couldn't. I was drinking more and more, and last Sunday I ended up in A&E again. I was psychotic, dangerous and suicidal. They were concerned enough to admit me and start me on Librium and intravenous Pabrinex. By Thursday, I was stable enough to be discharged.
Luckily I'm here writing this, as painful as it is to do. I really want to be able to stop anyone, even one single person from making the mistake I did. I had to be stopped from jumping out of a window.
The second quit was a quazillion (is that a word? It is now!😀 times harder than the first. Kindling is real. And it wasn't a steady climb back up to the drinking levels either...I was whacked straight back up to where I was before, as if the 8 months of quit never happened.
I had NO intention of drinking at that wedding. As I said, I'd been to lots of parties and got a real kick out of not drinking. Being AF is really really cool! (And the chicks dig it!😎
It just took a split second.
And it was the most deadly half a shandy I've ever had.
Thanks for reading, and, more importantly, thanks for being here, every single one of you.
It's great to have escaped.
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