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This story comes to us from Sebastien
Like many people with addiction, it runs in my family. It feels hackneyed to do the whole “I learned it from watching you” bit, but it really does have an effect. Visiting my grandparents on my dad’s side there were always those moments where they have a little set up in the kitchen. I knew not to go near the corner full of sprite, cranberry juice, tonic water, and what I would now assume is SKYY. Those Christmas/Thanksgiving vacations were never too wild. My parents, as well as others, had fun within reason during those times.
However, I now understand some of the raucous behavior from certain people as them browning out. My mom’s parents were a different situation. The rich WASPs that they were, they nearly always had a drink nearby. As I grew older, I would always associate the smell of beer and cigars with that grandfather. The first time that I knew at the moment that one of them was drunk was when we were watching the Muppets Christmas Carol like my close family did every Christmas. My mom’s parents were visiting, and my grandmother actually began singing and waving her hands in the air during credits. As an anxious person I immediately felt uncomfortable because I didn’t understand what was happening. I knew her to be such an uptight person who never showed emotion. She had cemented this persona in my mind so well that I knew that the only way she would be acting this way was if she had enough of her liquid courage. So I just awkwardly laughed and waited for her to stop.
My mother’s drinking was much more normalized. It’s funny to talk to other children of alcoholics and be like “Oh yeah, it’s totally normal to need to go to the liquor store at least once a week.” I have memorized my mother’s style of drinking: At home Taaka with lime and soda water, and at restaurants she gets a dry white wine, from California if they have it. There’s nothing wrong with having your favorites or wanting to let loose a bit when going out to eat. The problem is that I’ve always watched her having multiple drinks per night. She is the perfect symbol of a functional alcoholic that I modeled myself after. After high school I was inducted into the family activity of drinking. I never like beer or wine though. I needed something sickeningly sweet so my go to was the Smirnoff ice screwdrivers. My parents would buy me a few six packs during the summer before I went off to college. I would take three to my room per night, and I’d take the bottles down during the day. I assume my parents thought they were from multiple nights and that’s why they didn’t suspect it to be a problem. Yet.
During this summer I also participated in local theater for a production of Rent. I was surprised we even had that show in the bible belt, but of course the cast that would perform that show was bound to party hard. The cast party was the first time I began drinking socially. I remember the first drink I had made for me was a cherry limeade. After that though I definitely stopped keeping track of what I was drinking. Until I made the rookie mistake of taking a shot on top of several drinks, so I ran to the bathroom and threw up. This was not great for my anxiety, but thankfully another cast member gave me a wet towel to put on my forehead which helped me calm down a little. This helped me get ready for the world of drinking that I was going to find at college.
During freshman year I didn’t go to many parties, since no one I knew from senior year had gone to the same college. I had a few that were a few years ahead of me, but for the most part I was starting from scratch. Thankfully my parents packed me a six pack to save for a special occasion. My roommate also moved to a different dorm after the third week of classes, which seems great on paper, but without having any friends or a roommate I truly felt alone often. I made sure to split the six pack into 3 to make sure I got three different days of being tipsy. I got to plan my own association between alcohol and trying to dull my unwanted feelings. Sophomore year was better. I had more friends and even got to go to some parties with them. I learned how to throw back a shot the proper way. My favorite part of those parties was always the drinking games. They are literally designed to get you drunk as quickly as possible, so who wouldn’t like that.
When I turned 21 I finally had the ability to get myself drunk whenever I wanted. I didn’t realize how much I kept wanting to drink more and more. I have a winter birthday, so I was back home and my parents were on vacation. So nothing was keeping me from truly getting as wasted as possible. I had my parent’s stash as well as my first legal purchase of pink lemonade Burnette’s. It was truly heinous, but it was fun to get nonetheless. That night I took several shots of vodka and I eventually lost track of how much I had. That’s when I started throwing up of course. As much as I can remember that was the first time I knew I was starting to get alcohol poisoning. I am an analytical person so I knew I had to keep some water and food down so I don’t pass out. For some reason blacking out has always been a major fear of mine throughout my entire career of drinking. This was the first night of realizing I had too much and tried quickly to correct what I was doing. It was the first time I did this routine, instead of deciding to only drink in moderation.
Since I was alone on my actual 21st birthday I decided to drive back to campus to hang out with a good friend of mine. We had the great idea of doing Jager bombs. I went to a liquor store and I remember I wasn’t even carded. I thought at the time I said I should’ve just tried to buy alcohol from there earlier to see if the clerk wouldn’t try. Maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t try and end up falling deeper in the pit. When we got back to her apartment we smoked pot and did our Jager bombs, and we were having a great time. Everything was good until I lost balance and hit my head on the sink. I remember saying I was okay, then my friend went to the bathroom. I woke up on the floor. I didn’t know how much time had passed. I felt so awkward for the rest of the night. I just went to my apartment that wasn’t that far away. I slept even though I was worried I could have a concussion. I was fine for the most part, but when I got home I was so worried something may be awry. I went to my town’s urgent care, who said I need to go to the ER one town over since I blacked out. The drive to the ER was unbearable. I felt so guilty, while remembering all the signs I was going too far with drinking. I didn’t need a cat scan, but I was still billed $200 for even being there. When my parents got back from vacation we had a tough talk, where I cried and had a real heart felt reaction. I felt the bump on my head for about a week after.
Eventually of course I started drinking again but it wasn’t until after I had graduated. Without finding a job in my field I felt despair, and it was easier to reach for the taaka than deal with what I was feeling. Working in food service is exhausting in so many ways. Especially when your managers are actively committing wage theft. I got to the point where I couldn’t deal with the rude customers and people in the kitchen treating me badly. Since I didn’t have a connection to get pot anymore, I went back to booze. After college every time I got drunk, I was alone. It was easier that way. I could get as drunk as I could, as fast as I could. I didn’t have to worry about being embarrassed in front of others when I got too drunk. Especially because during this time of my life, it wasn’t if I got too drunk it was when. I developed a new technique, because in my state liquors stores closed at 9 every night and didn’t even open Sundays. I could at least get low point Smirnoff’s at the gas station, and I would always have a bottle of vodka on hand. I would pour the Smirnoff’s Ice in a cup and add at least 1 shot of vodka.
This process was exactly what I thought I needed. I didn’t have to think about my job crushing my spirit when I could get wasted incredibly fast. It didn’t matter how badly a shift went, because that was the only thing on my mind. Booze was waiting for me at home, and I had luckily gotten the pattern of just drinking plenty of water near the end of my binge for the night. I had been able to prevent blacking out and even throwing up. At least for most nights. One other bad night was when I had got a bottle of tequila and some limes. I had taken several shots within an hour. I was having far too much fun to remember my water. I had gotten so drunk that at some point I looked at the ground and saw a broken bottle of marinara sauce I was using earlier. I had knocked it over at some point and didn’t even register. Not too long later I was throwing up more violently than any other time I could remember. This was the night I started to realize I was in trouble.
I also was developing a romantic relationship with someone. We were a little close during my senior year, and we were slowly getting closer once I had graduated. They had to go home for the summer so we could only talk by texts and memes and occasionally have date nights when they came to visit every few weeks. I could keep myself sober for those days that they visited. Of course whenever they headed back, the routine continued. For the most part it all worked together. They saw the better parts of me and I could still wallow in the worse parts whenever they were away. My sister knew about my habits and tried her best to help me. I knew I had a problem, but I thought I could handle it on my own. My addiction was this nagging thing in the back of my mind. At work and at home even as I drank I was completely aware that it was an issue I was refusing to address.
As the fall semester returned my partner came back as well. We grew closer, but as a result my addiction was being put more and more in the spotlight. One evening we were having a great time, and I made excuses for myself to leave at 8:50. I’m not sure if it was obvious to them that I was just ending our night together just to go to the liquor store. I still feel bad for that one today. I’m so glad that my partner didn’t let me off the hook for my drinking. My sister helped me accept that I had a problem, but my partner gave me the tough love I needed to actually deal with it. I kept telling myself that I didn’t need to go to AA because that was admitting that I was too weak on some level. I could deal with it on my own. I told my partner I would stop drinking. I did for a bit. I got drunk in the middle of the day, and my partner called me on the phone. I somehow thought they already knew so I immediately admitted. I knew it was time to go to my first meeting.
I found one group that wasn’t too far away from where I lived. I went the day after that incident. I felt stressed on some level. I felt a little different afterwards. Like some pressure had finally left. Before I left the members made sure to assign me with a sponsor. It was nice having a connection with someone that had been through what I was about to go through. I went to a few more meetings here and there. I was staying sober but the environment eventually didn’t seem like what I needed. My sponsor wanted me to call every night. I obliged. Then eventually he wanted me to go to a meeting every single day. I understood that sobriety was a commitment. But the organization seemed to be placing expectations on me that weren’t related to my sobriety. I felt like if I didn’t do these things I would be disappointing these people, and that would’ve been the motivation for continuing to go to meetings. I slowly just broke it off with my sponsor. He understood and said that AA is always there.
I promised myself that I would stay sober. I knew I had to take more responsibility if I wanted to stay with my partner. Of course I had a few slips here and there. I knew they were counterproductive for my mental health, but I still just acted selfishly. It didn’t seem fun anymore though. Knowing that I was lying to my partner the whole time, it wasn’t just me playing video games and getting wasted. I was putting alcohol above my relationship. I don’t remember the last time I got drunk. I at least know it was sometime before October of 2018. Now every once in a while I think about drinking without my partner knowing. It dawned on me that I was using the same mindset as someone having an affair. I knew I couldn’t do something like cheating on them in the literal sense. So to stay sober I knew I had to do it for them, and think of it in the same way. My love for my partner has gotten me through addiction and many more things. I know on some level I got sober for myself as well as for my partner. I know if we ever broke up that staying sober might be harder without them, but they helped me get to this point. AA helped be take the first steps, and my partner helped me stay strong past the 1 year of my sobriety. I love them and I love myself, which is why I stopped drinking.
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