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The author who sent this story to us is Bildad Shiundu
My Alcohol Story Part 2: How I Recovered and Lessons Learned
This is part 2 of a 2 part story. See part 1 here
We are seven siblings, round this up and you have a football team. None of my siblings drink. Neither of my parents drinks too. I always imagine that if my father was not asthmatic, he would probably be an active member of the drinking club. He owns a bar. When I was drinking day in day out, everyone imagined that I was under a spell or something. “Why are you the only member of this family that drinks? Are you under a spell?” My mother would always ask. A neighbor even suggested special prayers. I didn’t have faith in prayers. I dodged them every time that topic was brought up.
I didn’t drink at all the first month I returned from Mombasa. I remember informing everyone that I will never walk down that path again. Everyone was elated. They assumed their prayers had finally cast the drinking spirit away. For the first time in years, my family started giving me money for my daily upkeep. Money I didn’t really need because I was not leaving the house. My mother had put me on a diet to help me recover my weight. I had an internet connection, so I didn’t really leave the house. I also didn’t like going out because a friend told me I looked like a scarecrow. I didn’t want people to imagine that I had some illness or something.
I used that period to study some online courses. I got a Google content marketing certification. I noticed tech online jobs paid higher and thus started learning basic programming too. The only time I left the house was for church.
After the first month of my return, I was asked what I wanted to do with my life now that I had returned. “Online work,” I replied. At this time, I was often referred to as a ‘former alcoholic’. Deep within, I knew it was just a matter of time. I was giving my body time to heal. Both my parents didn’t like the idea. They said I needed close monitoring. Something online work did not guarantee. My mother recounted incidences of how I used to drink on a daily basis when I worked online. She would always remind my siblings or anyone that cared to listen of how I once peed in the living room. Lol!! It always makes me laugh.
My eldest sister offered to pay my school fees if I enrolled back to college. I welcomed the idea. The only problem is that they were insisting on me doing a course in education. Both my mother and eldest sister are high school teachers. I insisted on doing a course in IT. My wish was granted. I got admitted to a Polytechnic for a three years diploma course in IT. Everyone was happy for me. “Three years is a short time.” I would always be reminded.
New School
I joined my new school two months after I returned from Mombasa. I had the motivation and will to study and earn my certificate. My class was full of 18 and 19 year olds. We didn’t relate much. I was always alone and didn’t make many friends.
Soon, boredom drove me to the bar. There was a bar strategically placed near my house. I started drinking secretly. I used to buy and drink from the privacy of my house. No classmate knew that I drink. I was viewed as a focused and determined student. I spent most of my time in the library.
Now, there is this girl I was chasing. A very attractive and curvy class mate. She was my closest friend and home mate. I didn’t know she was dating. I had planned to propose to her after the end of the term. However, I discovered that she was dating. I didn’t ask her about it. Instead, I walked straight to the bar to clear my mind. To make matters worse, we were doing the end of term exams.
I was locked inside a bar at 11 a.m. yet I had an exam at 2.00 p.m. I felt heartbroken and wanted to clear my mind. I promised myself that I would only drink one bottle. At the bar, I met an old friend. A drinking buddy I was with in campus. I didn’t tell him that I was still in school. So we drank. He was loaded and was calling shot after shot. I couldn’t resist the temptation of not drinking. I only informed him that I had an appointment at 2.00 p.m.
Drank in the Exam Room
At a quarter to 2.00pm I regained my consciousness. I remembered that I had an exam. I dashed to school so drunk yet I hadn’t eaten anything since morning. For the first time since I joined my new school, I staggered. My attempts to walk straight hit a brick wall.
I was the last to arrive in class. Everyone was seated and waiting for the exam. It was an exam on Operating Systems (OS). Everyone noticed my staggering and foul stench when I arrived. I had also been smoking cigarettes too. You can imagine the odor.
“So this guy is so good at OS that he has decided to come drank,” I had someone remark. The invigilator soon arrived. Thank heavens it was an intern I had drunk with the previous weekend in a night club.
I felt like throwing out and I asked him for permission to visit the washrooms. He noticed the stench and allowed me to go out. I stayed in the washrooms for more than thirty minutes. He was very understanding. He still allowed me to sit for the paper.
I forgot where I was seated before. I loudly asked where my seat was. After finding it, I missed it while trying to seat. I fell on the floor with a thud. The whole class burst into laughter. Exams were going on everywhere. The invigilator silenced everyone. He helped me up and gave me the exam paper and booklet. I could only answer the first few questions on the definition of OS, its history and process. My handwriting was like that of a four year old or even worse.
I then passed out. On waking up, I was told to hand in the booklet. I hadn’t even written my name on it. A friend helped me out. He then asked me why I went to school, and on a day I had an exam drank. That is when hell broke loose again. I started Screaming; “Mitchell!! My Love!! Why me!!” I screamed a lot of unprintable words. That’s when a cousin of mine took me to his hostel to sleep. I walk up at seven but still drunk, I couldn’t remember where my school bag was. Apparently I had forgotten it at the bar. I picked it up the next day I went to drink again.
That day everyone knew me. Not only did they know that I drink, but they also learned I have feelings for my friend Mitchell. Now, Mitchell was very mad at me. I think what made her cool off is that we all went for holidays after the exams. I avoided her like plague during the exam period. I kept a low profile. I lost confidence.
When the results came out, I had performed well in most of the exams. However I got 40 out of 100 in the OS exam. I was the last, but I wasn’t asked to re sit. I celebrated this with a drink.
A good thing that happened is that I started receiving invitations to attend parties and drinking sprees. I resumed my partying lifestyle. It was party after party. I started missing classes and handing in assignments after the deadline. My performance went down. I wasn’t reading at all
As I gained new friends, I lost some friends too. I lost friends who didn’t like my partying lifestyle. It only worried me when Mitchell not to associate with her in anyway until I quit drinking. She had just lost her dad to liver cirrhosis. She detested alcohol. But life is so funny, because she now drinks while I don’t. I recently told her that I am now intentionally avoiding her.
During that term, I was selected to represent the school in a national robotics competition in Mombasa. I was very happy about it because I knew I would meet my old friends. I hadn’t drunk alcohol from coconut since I returned from Mombasa. I looked forward to that trip.
The D-Day came and off we were to Mombasa. The school gave us good money for upkeep. I also had gotten a lot of money from my parents and sisters. Being the last month of the term, I didn’t pay rent. I planned to use that money in Mombasa. The competitions were scheduled to last 6 days. We weren’t going to compete until the third day. Having lived in Mombasa, I used the free time to show my friend the best Mombasa had to offer. We visited the port, ferry and bitch.
As you can guess, alcohol wouldn’t miss. I had used my entire stipend by the third day. I was now depending on handouts. I had to call my mum and lie that I wanted money to buy some computer equipment. She sent me $40. I used half of it to pay my debts. On the competition night, I overslept. I missed the bus to the competition venue. I had to use my on means. I had also misplaced my gate pass and hadn’t charged my mobile phone.
I was denied entry to the venue. That was a blessing in disguise because the school thought I couldn’t compete because I didn’t have my gate pass. Nobody suspected that I had drunk too much the previous day. In addition, our robot developed a mechanical problem. We didn’t compete. That meant that we had another two free days in Mombasa as we waited for our colleagues who were competing in other exhibitions.
To me, a free day meant drinking. I again borrowed money from another of my sisters. I spent those two days at the bitch drinking my favorite coconut alcohol. The bitch was 10km from the hotel where we stayed. I didn’t bother going back to the hotel. I met with my former colleagues. We drank and partied merrily reminding ourselves of our memorable moments together.
I was again missing in action on the day we were to return back to school. I wasn’t ready by the time the bus left. When our instructor called, I told him I would be spending at my sister’s place for some few days. No body suspected that I was too drunk to wake up. Drinking had perfected my lying skills. I would lie to cover for my drinking or to get money for drinking.
There I was, in Mombasa and stranded. Mombasa is 500km away from home. I only had $5. That was like a drop of ink in the ocean. The cheapest ticket to my destination was $25. I started thinking of how I would raise that money.
Then a thought came up. I saw a school bus belonging to a neighboring school. Armed with my school ID, I went to the driver and told him that I had missed our bus. Luckily they were to leave in an hour and true to my thinking, there were vacant seats. Good heavens.
I was trembling that morning. Whenever, I trembled I knew my body needed a drink. I dashed to town, eat breakfast and bought a can of beer. I didn’t drink it at once. I knew, I would miss the bus again. So I went back to the bus and started sipping it slowly. Later, I realized that I only had $1 left. From where this school bus would drop me, I would need another $5 to take another bus to home. I wasn’t going back to school. The holidays had began.
I knew there was nowhere else I was going to get money. I decided to take a risk. I deposited the $1 to my betting account. I placed a bet on 7 odds and luckily won. I was so happy. Betting always saved me when in need. I have however lost a lot of money to betting. Especially, the bets I place when drunk. I withdrew the money and used it to pay for the other bus. I arrived home safely.
My mother thought that I would arrive loaded with goodies from the coastal town of Mombasa. I only had my bag of personal belongings. I had promised her that I would buy for her coconut, mangoes and Irish potatoes but here I was with nothing. That was another reason she had sent me extra money while in Mombasa. I told her that I f bought the items but forgot in the last bus I took. She was disappointed because deep within, she knew I hadn’t bought anything. She suspected foul play but didn’t prompt me further.
We were constructing a wall fence that holiday. I spent most of my time supervising the workers. Most of these workers were drunkards, who literally lived from hand to mouth. They would be paid at the end of each day. From our home, they would head straight to the local drinking dens. Our home lies at the center of a reserve village. We have large farms and no shopping centers nearby. The first bar is located 3kms away. This distance is what used to keep me away from drinking.
I would work the whole day and wouldn’t imagine walking the three kilometers for a drink and back. So, together with these workmen, we would leave to the drinking dens to enjoy the local liquor. My parents didn’t know that I was drinking. I used to stay in my room throughout whenever drunk. They also thought that I didn’t like the local brew.
One day, my parents left for a funeral to a nearby town. I had some little freedom. That day I went to drink at 8.00 a.m. I went that early so that by the time my parents returned I would be sober. At 12 noon, I was still drinking. It started raining; my mum had aired out her clothes. They were being rained on. I went back home staggering heavily amidst the rain and mud. On arriving at the gate, I saw my mum’s car. Tension rose. My mum had just arrived.
I hadn’t even locked the door when I left. On seeing me, my mother gave me a stare, clicked and walked away. We didn’t talk for a whole weak. I apologized. My dad learnt that I had been drinking with the workers. He removed me from the ‘supervisory position.’ On the second day some workers stole some construction material. On investigation, we learned that one of them sold cement to the drinking den in exchange for a drink.
Hitting Alcoholic Bottom
Few weeks later, I met with the suspected thief at that drinking den. I asked him about it and he denied. So we began drinking. I was buying. I wanted him to confess. I had learned through drinking that drunkards seldom lie when drunk. We drank till late in the night and then I started probing him again. He told me he knows where the bag of cement is.
I was filled with rage. I turned, picked an empty wooden chair next to him and hit him with it on his head wrestling style. “WOOOHI!! WOOOHI!! ” he screamed. Everyone else was silent. The owner of the place held me back. Everyone else left for they thought it would be a police case. Some even thought he was going to die.
This man now had blood all over his head and face. He was writhing in pain and swollen. That is when I called my dad, and informed him that I had caught the ‘thief”. He came to where we were. This man couldn’t walk and wasn’t talking.
“Why take the law into your own hands?” my father asked me. “ He is a thief, I replied. I was 27. This man I had hit was almost 50. I didn’t respect him. All this actions were because of my drinking. My father walked this man to his home. I was cleaned and given first aid.
I went home. I found my mother in the living room. My father had already informed her what had happened. I thought she would be happy that finally we had found the thief. I greeted her and tried explaining what had happened. “Shut up” is all she said. I walked to my room and locked myself inside. I could hear her shout. She banned from driving the family car. The next day was on a Sunday. We usually left for the second mass as a family at 9.00 a.m. On this Sunday, my mum left very early for the first mass and alone.
On coming back, she found me sweeping the compound but didn’t talk to me. She clicked at my greetings. At that time an old lady of around 70 entered the compound. “Are you the one that wanted to kill my son?” she asked. I was speechless for a moment and told her that her son confessed to stealing bags of cement from the store. She then stared hauling unprintable words to me and even threatened to undress. His son had changed the story and was now saying that he was under duress. He said that I forced him to admit.
My parents and neighbors who had started gathering intervened. It was the view of many (The people’s court) that we were both drunk. My mother gave out money for his treatment. The man didn’t go to hospital. He was seen drinking and boasting that day. We are still friends now, but unlike me he still drinks. He recently helped me to carry some errands at our home.
Later that day, I received a call from my sister. “You are going to rehab” she said. She then reminded me of the terrible things that alcohol had done to my life. I told her I would change but she would hear none of it. I remembered a friend who had recently been taken to rehab. His parents literally called the police, who arrested him early in the morning and took him to rehab. I didn’t want to go through that. I told her that I would voluntarily go when ready.
At that time, my mum started doubting whether I was schooling. I had been home for only three weeks but she had had enough. She called the school and talked to the dean of students. My school records were checked. It was discovered that although I was doing fine academically, my class attendance had dropped. The dean was my personal friend and was really surprised by what he was hearing. He told my mum that he didn’t think I was drinking that much. He advised that I start attending guiding and cancelling sessions offered at the school.
I quickly accepted this offer. I did not want the rehab route; I felt that rehab was a prison. A friend once told me that while at rehab, he would be forced to gallop down a jag of water every hour. I don’t know how true this is but it really made me fear rehab. I talked to another of my sisters and told her to convince my eldest sister to drop the idea of taking me to rehab. When my sister heard that I would be attending guiding and counseling sessions every evening while in school, she dropped the idea. the remainder of that month while at home, I was very disciplined. I didn’t drink at all.
Guiding and Counseling
When schools reopened (for the second year) I was called to the dean’s office. With him was the guiding and counseling mistress: a woman who is in her forties. The dean asked me about my drinking experience. I told him that I was a social drinker. My story was similar to what they had heard before. The guiding and counseling mistress told me that recovering alcoholics meet every working day in her office for counseling. I was excited because I knew I wouldn’t be alone.
I started attending those meetings. Those meetings are what made me recover. At the beginning we were four: three male and a lady. We were always encouraged to speak up. Everyone had a their story. I wish I get to share them someday. All in all of us were alcoholics living in denial. However, all of us had decided to embrace a new change.
Different people would speak to us each day, and that’s when I started detox. Unlike the rest I responded well to treatment, I only lacked appetite. Some friends would hallucinate, shake, cry, and so on. Nevertheless we were always encouraged to keep going. By the end of the term, 25 students had signed up for that program. There is no class I missed, my performance improved. I have never touched again. Two of my friends fell to drinking again, but I talk to them whenever I can.
Lessons Learned
I learned a lot through the counseling sessions. The most important thing is to avoid friends that would lead you back to Egypt again. This made me to quit cigarette smoking too. I changed places I often visited; I also changed friends and moved to a new place, where I currently live. Although it’s now almost a year since my last dink, I quit cigarette smoking 5 months ago. It’s one of the best feelings ever.
Growing up, I always had problems saving money. However six months after I quit drinking, I was able to buy a laptop from my savings. This was a great achievement especially to my freelance writing career. I am typing this from the laptop I bought.
Everyone is happy now. For the first time in my life, I have been paying rent without asking for help from my parents or misusing money meant for food. My house is now full, I have everything I need. Back in school, I was appointed a peer counselor. I was helping with the guiding and counseling sessions before COVID-19 happened.
At home my mother is the happiest. I make sure that I send her 20% of what I earn from my online hustles. I recently sent her $200 as my contribution of a gate she was constructing back at home.
I no longer feel the urge to go out and drink. I regained weight and I am always clean. There is a big difference between the former and current me. The current me plans ahead of time, budgets, is not sly and committed to a course. I am currently doing various online courses to advance my freelancing career. I plan to work as a freelance writer full time. I am working on my website and portfolio. I have also started to send cold pitches to clients online. I hope that I land a good client soon.
I wouldn’t have made it alone. I am grateful to everyone that stood by me especially my parents, siblings, teachers and every other person for their words of encouragement. I never imagined that one day I would stop drinking and start advising others on how to call it quit and stay positively.
If you are planning to quit drinking alcohol, you are on the right path. It might appear difficult at the beginning but nothing is impossible. The most important thing is to accept your status. Accept that you are alcoholic and that alcoholism is messing your life. The next step is to talk to other about it. Tell them your desire to change. Set up targets or milestone. For instance you could set a target not to drink for the remainder of the week or month.
Engage yourself with something positive. I get inspired by reading motivational books. These books are easily accessible through the net. Make it a habit to read at least one motivational book every week.
Another key thing is to remember that bad company corrupts good morals. If you think you are drinking because of your association with a certain group of individuals, avoid them. You will soon meet likeminded friends. I hope that you find my story inspiring. I haven’t achieved everything I want but at least I am now sober.
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