Reader Stories

This is a reader story. We believe in providing our readers with a space for them to share their story however they see fit. The thoughts and views expressed are that of the author and should be treated as such. If you wish to share your own stories please see here for more information.

The author who sent this story to us chose to remain anonymous

Wherever we may go, regardless of culture, drinking takes part of its identity.  Culturally, drinking is a norm in my country in order for people especially men and clans to build bonds. As a little girl, I was given the impression that drinking was a good thing. Seeing that people -especially family members- setting aside their differences and connecting over a couple of bottles. Bad breath, embarrassing moments of blissful stupor, and hangovers being a small price to pay.

Yet where I saw the advantage of drinking was with my older brother Danny. From a young age, I’d watch him go out every week to one of the neighbors or his friends to have a drink. When I come home from school, I’d see him drinking with his buddies seated beneath the street lamp or near their homes. 

It was no question how well he could hold his liquor. After all,we had come from a long line of strong drinkers but my brother had taken it to a whole new level. I recently asked my mother where all this stemmed from, although I’ve had my sure guesses. She mentioned it began in our province, a little island in the north of our country that had a lot more rainy season. It is quite common to use liquor as a way to build body heat. But for my Brother, it became a craving instead of a means to beat the cold. 

During my older siblings’ middle school years, they had to be left to the care of relatives as our mother had to work abroad. Our older sister was left under the care of their grandmother while my brothers were sent to the province to be taken care of by our grandfather. During their period in our hometown, my brother Danny learned to drink with his friends. 

At first, he drank because it created good ties with people and life seemed so care free when entranced in liquid spirit. When my mother returned and brought them to the city to live with their sister and grandmother, my brothers felt a bit alien to the new environment and the urban life. My brother Danny didn’t like the feeling of being an outsider, so liquor became his means of gaining friends. I had actually labeled it “Friendship juice” seeing how popular it made my brother.

Yet alcohol wasn’t just a means for him to have a social life. No. See, growing up we didn’t have a father or a guardian around to guide us. Mom worked as a seawoman so she was always abroad for seventy to eighty percent of the year. For that very reason, my brother Danny gained a lot of unwanted pressure. 

He wasn’t the oldest- he was second born- but he felt as if he had to be the breadwinner being the first male of our family. He was also the kind of guy who wanted to be the stereotypical definition of manly in every sense. Drinking and emotional suppression for him was considered “manly”. He wasn’t stoic though but he liked to mask his insecurities with being a jokester or anger. Drinking helped him stay calm and little me would take that advantage to show him my low grades so he wouldn’t beat or question me when he was sober. I was made to see nothing wrong about it.

Years went by and I was born, another little girl orphaned by her father. According to my other older brother ,Abel, our brother Danny became even more protective. Stricter and harsher, wanting to be the protector of our family. And so more pressure ensued, and more, and more, especially when our two younger sisters were born.  Not being able to count on anyone or even willing to acknowledge his underlying mental and emotional state, who else could he turn to but a kind cup of booze.

Truth be told, my brother gained many ‘friends’ and avoided quarrels with drinking but it was his withdrawals and its effects that caused issues with him and our family. He treated liquor like a medication for his temper and anxiety. Without it, at some hour of the day, he’d have withdrawals and would easily be irritated. As he kept drinking and drinking, issues about it and his constant absences were raised. His tolerance for alcohol grew too, three liters of old pal Jack Daniel became a minimum and he would want more to sedate himself.

He started working as a waiter in an international cruise line to support his family. He worked an early morning shift and he finished his shift during the late hours. According to my mother ,who works as a manager on the ship, He would go drinking with his friends or on his own just to help himself sleep. His need for it just grew over the years. But little by little he began to lose the benefit that alcohol gave him.

Instead of assisting in suppressing his anxieties and issues, it allowed them to manifest. He’d become a mess, angry, insecure, and shaking. He’d make bad deals with his ‘buddies’, lose money, and it came to the point that he’d call up his wife and scream at her on the phone over the littlest things. She, in turn, would do her best to brush it off wanting to be a good spouse. It even came to the point that we, the younger siblings, couldn’t just stand by and had asked him to quit and to watch himself. He would hide or dismiss our mother and other siblings when the topic of his drinking was brought up.

Then out of the blue, it became less frequent.

It wasn’t like we finally convinced him, he had convinced himself. If I had to guess as to what it was, it was probably seeing his younger sisters and his son growing up. 

Don’t take it wrongly, I was about seventeen and I was already aware what that ‘friendship juice’ really was and wasn’t drawn to it. Our little sisters also didn’t witness our family’s habit of drinking like I had and weren’t interested. As for his son, he grew more around his mother and inherited her soft yet strong personality. 

Yet my older brother couldn’t just count and hope his son would have as much sense as I and his wife had. There are a lot of things my brother would refuse to openly admit but one thing’s for sure he didn’t want his son or any of us to inherit his mania for liquor. And yet, he acknowledged that he could not completely let it go. Regardless, he wanted to set a better example.

So he began to make solutions to try and dwindle his thirst for the fiery water. 

He began to accept less invitations from his colleagues -after working hours-  to gatherings he knew would involve a couple of shots. He’d hit the gym instead to distract himself with ,and I quote, his handsomeness and Michael angelo sculpted physique. He even frequented my mother’s cabin to see her or snag a couple of snacks from her fridge- he apparently had turned to my mother’s stock of almond milk as a “cure”. When he’d return home to the country, he’d distract himself with farming and video games. 

It wasn’t just his efforts alone though. His wife and neighbors conspired together to help my brother. He’s a well-known man in the community, helping out with laborious work whenever he came home after working overseas. Knowing about his large appetite for alcohol concerned them especially for his family’s wellbeing. So whenever he’d go to nearby stores or shops asking for liquor- most likely sneaking behind his wife’s back- the owners or shop keepers would make excuses. Such as there was no more in stock- very plausible since the locals were also strong drinkers-, say it was reserved, would deny him service, or would tell his wife.

Ofcourse, there were moments that our dear older brother would try to find loopholes- especially during family gatherings. But his wife, much braver now, would be more than willing to slap his shoulder or pull him by the ear and back into the house if he planned to go for more than one liter. His father-in-law would also do his best to distract him from men of the village that’d invite him for a drink by taking him to the farm or forest to do some work. Whenever we’d come to visit and have a drink, we’d remind him about his limit.

These days he no longer becomes temperamental when not in a five-meter radius of alcohol and he has become all the more good-natured. He’s even more involved with spending time with his wife and son. Yet we know his hands would still itch for it. To this day, He still tries to make some sort of excuse to have at least a few shots of booze. As long as there’s a loophole or an opportunity so he could get a taste, he’d take it and there is no telling how far ‘just a little bit of spirit’ would take him.

-JackDANIEL’s sister

This is a reader story. We believe in providing our readers with a space for them to share their story however they see fit. The thoughts and views expressed are that of the author and should be treated as such. If you wish to share your own stories please see here for more information.

The author who sent this story to us chose to remain anonymous.

My story with alcohol is a very peculiar one. I didn’t have a very troubling childhood, nor did I have abusive parents, yet somehow alcohol found its way into my life and destroyed me in many ways. One of the reasons my story is unique is that I am not from a Western Country, in Europe or North America. Instead, I belong to Third World Islamic country in Asia. The religion of Islam plays a significant role in the governance of the country and the laws are derived from it. As consumption of alcohol is forbidden in Islam, it has been illegal here. So my struggles with alcohol went not only against my health and wellbeing, but also against my culture and upbringing. 

I have always viewed my life in 3 phases. The first phase was the most beautiful one; the first 13 years of my life. I had a great childhood. It was a very fun, carefree, and joyous time. My parents were also very loving towards me and life just seemed so beautiful. I didn’t realize how great I had it until further along in the future where my dark phase and encounters with alcohol started.

The next ‘phase’ was from the ages of 13 to 18. This was a slightly more volatile time than my childhood and did pave the way for me to start drinking regularly. Some situations has arisen in my life that made me very sad and depressed. I started being bullied a lot at school. There were some financial troubles at home due to some business failures by my father. This financial strain really hampered the loving relationship between my mother and my father, and fighting all day became the norm at my house. Moreover, the ‘restrictive’ nature of my Islamic culture had started to become more and more prevalant. I wasn’t allowed to go out of the house due to my over protective parents (which is a sort of a cultural norm here). This led to me having barely any friends, no romantic partners, and absolutely no sex. It was like I was living a constrained and futile existence. I felt trapped and empty, and I found myself deeper and deeper within this dark hole. 

The ‘phase’ of my life after 18 years old was where all the drinking began. I went to a different city for University and that was the first time I got to stay away from the supervision and care of my parents. It turned out to be quite the lifestyle change for me. I finally made some genuine friends and got a little taste of what ‘freedom’ actually looks like. Some of my friends were into drinking and they also had the means to arrange it. Eventually, I wanted to try it too, to see what all the fuss is about. My first time drinking a can of beer was so strange. It tasted so bitter, but it did give a sort of relaxation to my mind which I had never felt. At the same time, I also felt very guilty after my first drink as I was defying my cultural Islamic upbringing. Consuming alcohol is considered a big sin. It was certainly a very strange and confusing state of mind to be in.

It was like my mind had split itself into 2 factions fighting with each other. One part wanted to drink more and more, and the other wanted me to not drink ever again. This laid the foundation for the constant inner turmoil I would have for years. However, at that point I really didn’t care about anything that much. So I started drinking more frequently. I started getting into other alcoholic drinks like Wine and Vodka as well. Drinking became like a recreational activity for me. 

My frequency of drinking started to increase as time went on. There was a stage in which I was drinking each and every day. All of this had negative effects on my life situation. I was low on energy and low on money. My academic performance at University wasn’t all that great. I was just slacking through my courses and getting grades that would be just good enough to not fail. Drinking was filling that ‘void’ within me but was also building up a deadly cycle of guilt and shame within me, as I knew very well that I wasn’t performing to the best of my abilities. To add to my wounds, all those ‘friends’ who had introduced me to alcohol, had started to gradually distance themselves from me. That was very heartbreaking for me. Those feeling of loneliness that I had tried so hard to escape from, started to come to me again. All in all, it was a very bad to place to be in, both mentally and physically. I was on my own. No one to help me at all. All my so called ‘friends’ had abandoned me and were doing well in their lives. And here I was, a useless waste of space. I had become careless about tons of things, whether it be my grades, my grooming, my hygiene, my looks, or my finances. I was one big mess and the sight of myself made me disgusted.  I eventually realized that I was so deep in this dark hole that I had nothing to lose. Life surely couldn’t get any worse than this. So why not try and change some things around?

I made a firm decision to change things around and honestly this was the turning point of my life. I made this intention knowing very well that I had nothing to lose. This gave me a special kind of courage. First thing I did was start consuming some positive content, especially from YouTube. I knew I needed new positive ideas to break out of the constant negativity. I started binge watching videos from Tony Robbins, Les Brown, Simon Sinek, and David Goggins. That really opened up my mind and made me realize that my life experience is the perspective that my mind creates, in essence. I realized that I had more power than I thought I did. And that with small incremental steps I can improve myself and live a great, fulfilling and rich life. Their razor sharp motivation instilled in me a desire to better myself no matter what. And that I could pull that off no matter what. ‘Consistency over intensity’ became the motto for my life. A surge if positivity gradually started to grow within me as now I had something to aim for! I had a purpose and I had a goal and I had a chance to live a life with direction instead of a wayward and directionless one. 

I started writing everything down what I wanted to do. And became much organized in all aspects. All of this was certainly not done overnight and was a long and arduous process. I had to make mini-goals for myself. Like a maximum of 3 beers per week and then started to gradually decrease that number. I also started to bring more structure into my life in various aspects. Little changes made a huge difference and I gradually started to feel that I was regaining control of my life. I also starting paying more attention to my grooming, hygiene, and self-care. Furthermore, I started going to the gym and working out. My body felt alive and it felt great! These differences certainly increased the strength and focus level of my mind and I could do better academically as well. I became so busy and occupied with being productive and taking care of myself, that alcohol didn’t have much time and space left in my life. There would be days where I would drink and feel guilty about myself again. But the intensity of this guilt also decreased as I had realized that most important step is to fully love and accept myself. All potential self-improvement comes after that.  

I am happy to say that I have been sober for over a year now. That does not mean I do not feel down or that I am perfectly happy at all times. But that does mean that I know how to deal with my urges in a very healthy way. I feel my life has a purpose. I also have a job in my field right now. And a few friends, whom I can hang out with. 

In conclusion, this was the journey of how I ‘regained’ my life and overcame my alcohol addiction. I am in my mid 20’s right now, a very exciting yet nervous and volatile stage of life, but I am still hopeful for the future. I view all of what happened to me as a ‘dark awakening’ instead of a bad memory. It was necessary for my growth. Sometimes, you have to be pushed to your breaking point to make something great out of it. No matter how bad things seem, there is always hope to be found. 

This is a reader story. We believe in providing our readers with a space for them to share their story however they see fit. The thoughts and views expressed are that of the author and should be treated as such. If you wish to share your own stories please see here for more information.

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 21^st 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. 

This is a reader story. We believe in providing our readers with a space for them to share their story however they see fit. The thoughts and views expressed are that of the author and should be treated as such. If you wish to share your own stories please see here for more information.

The author who sent this story to us chose to remain anonymous.

I was 18 years old when I realised that my life was not under my control. That was the main reason why I think I started drinking. I am the only child in the family and was always quite rebellious. I stood out from all the others with my different thoughts and interests, I had contrasting values compared to my classmates. 

When I was a child and through my teenage years, I always had problems with my classmates and teachers, and I felt I received unfair treatment from them. Since I was always a spectator, I was locked in my head and never shared my thoughts, because mostly when I shared something to my friends, they never took it seriously. Any friends I did make I lost, some of them lied to me, some of them made fun of me, I would cry all day after school and search for problems and solutions in myself – about what I did wrong, where I made a mistake. 

I never wanted to be different, it scared me so much, because I was looking at myself from the viewpoint of others, and that was my biggest mistake. I was thinking what they were like, what were their interests, I did not want to be excluded. I started smoking, I knew it was bad, but I kind of felt like I needed that. I remember how negative things started to attract me, you know it is easier to get hurt then to be happy. 

Oh, and I always felt guilty because of my everyday life, because of my personality. After all the teenage problems I had at that time, I started to motivate myself to get along with my classmates, to understand people more than I did before, to be nice, to be human and to be normal, like everyone, I tried to be like them, you know only you can help yourself, so I started taking action… I started going out with friends, drinking beer from time to time, I did not like it in the beginning so after parties I was buying new bottles of different brands each day so I could find the one I liked so that I could drink it more easily and more of it each day with them, so I could be tougher, and feel dominant. 

I am mostly an introvert and get extremely isolated when I don’t feel comfortable. In the beginning I thought while drinking some alcohol made me feel dizzy, I thought it also made me come out of my shell and show the true me more. But I was wrong there, I was drinking more and more, I did not want to feel that awkward feeling with myself, I wanted to feel right with myself, or at least just to forget all about the bad moments. 

But every time I did that, when I was sober at times (lucky days when I had time to be sober) I was realizing how much time I had wasted, I was so completely wasted, my time was wasted, my energy was wasted, where was I? Where was my real self? Every last minute, hour when I had those sober moments with myself I was getting panic attacks, I cut my veins, pulled my hair tight, I really wanted to feel pain so I could grab hold of myself and get out of there, but I could not do it, I always felt I was drowning in a swamp where every helping hand was a trap for you… I just wanted to lose my mind, I was drinking more so I could feel dizzy, and was drinking again so that I could be disconnected from everything, from my thoughts, obsessions. I wanted to disappear, I wanted this to end, I didn’t want to feel alcohol in my veins, in my mouth, but I had zero hope about saving myself. 

You know what I was always thinking before that?- If you want to build something new, you should destroy the one you have, because destroying is already a new beginning itself, but the one you have can never disappear completely, so you gotta fix it. I knew I had a problem but alcohol made me like I didn’t need to fix them. Or I could fix them later. After this next drink.

After my family noticed massive changes in me, instead of trying to solve the problem together they made me feel even worse, there was no place at all where I could hear silence. Where I could get away from their condemnation. The problem and stress my family had was because I reminded them of my grandpa and his lifestyle. He started drinking at the age of 24, I only really remember him after he was an alcoholic. When I was a child I could never realize why my grandma always argued with him for a glass of wine, vodka, beer or anything alcoholic. 

After years of living through this terrified period of life, when I was nearly 21 I had a moment with myself, my birthday was coming up. I remember because I remember that specific snow in January, near my birthday, I even felt cold in my veins and tears in my eyes, so right at that time, when I was nearly 21, I started to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. I was tired of hearing the same speech from my close ones, like they used to with my grandpa.

Time was passing by and the most motivating thing for me was the day when I saw how alcohol ruined my grandpa, he had a heart attack, he lost some physical abilities, I did not want to look like him, I did not want to lose the fight, I wanted to be back in reality, actually see myself when looking in a mirror, know myself better, I saw my future in my grandpa, that was the most terrifying feeling I have ever experienced, my future slapped me in the face and the question I heard in my head was…why? Why am I like this? First of all I started to be a friend to myself, started listening to myself, understanding myself and asking…Why? 

I started following some Instagram accounts, with healthy lifestyles, healthy body types, healthy skin care routines, I started realizing why all this happened to me, but before these, my only motivation was my childhood pic, I wanted to look like her, I wanted to have her sparkling eyes again, I did not want her future to be a disappointment. I felt sorry for not accepting her and not listening to her. I started to drink 1 glass or bottle less than yesterday. And every time I felt my hands were shaking in need of alcohol, I looked at my photo again, and made myself some tea, black tea instead of alcohol. 

Black tea helped me in the beginning, I wanted to get used to something else, because the main feeling I realized is that it is not about loving and gaining a pleasure from alcohol, it is all about that tough quest for dependence which causes those toxic relationships towards anything, that slowly destroys you. I was always telling myself, until you want this, this will not end, and so do you want this? Not about needing it, just tell me if you want this, and if not, don’t drink that liquid. 

I started realizing that all this happened because I could not find myself in the current environment, so why stay trying to fit in painfully there when you can just change the environment. When the flower does not bloom, it’s maybe because it’s in a wrong, unsuitable ground. Not that the flower was wrong.

After I started recovering, it was like my eyes started to open up, I realized some changes started in my body and some health problems appeared, my neurologist said I had a Tremor, every time I was drinking my hands used to stop shaking and go back to normal movement, but you know, alcohol is not a medicine. My neurologist prescribed some medication which helped me to solve my tremor problem, which in turn gave me a feeling that I was moving forward again. It turned out I had psychological problems. It was hard for me to stay alone, I had bad thoughts, I thought everything was a waste of time and I made people close to me worried, but I know if someone truly loves you, the best thing to do is to listen to them and accept their help. I started solving my psychological problems where I could, I entered medical treatment and had continuous contact with my doctors. It was hard to stop living like this, the only cure for me was to find happiness inside me and get attached to it. 

Over time I have changed, I did transfusion, I felt right about that procedure, I even remember those moments, when I was left alone during this procedure, I felt calm, I had that feeling of sublimation, feeling of a new start, even a fresh smell from my nose, I felt this was the rightest choice I made, doing everything for myself, for my childhood self, who just wanted to have the same sparkling eyes in the future, so here I am my baby self, you don’t have to worry about your future, you are strong. If you want something you need to do something, get it, experience it, or nothing will happen. 

I am 23 years old, I am an artist, I love drawing, I love music, I love dancing, and I love myself not only on the outside, but also on the inside. I may have some scars, and honestly I may become sad and sorry about what I did to myself, but that’s okay, it’s okay, I finally bloomed and I will never stop blooming.

Thank you