Slowly

It’s not like I ever meant to develop a problem. One day, I was 14 years old and camping with a friend and her family. It was the first time I ever got drunk. I remember feeling like I could do anything, I could say anything, and it was funny. I could have confidence. I could make new friends, and nobody could really judge me right? Because I was drunk. I ran through the campgrounds screaming, trying to crawl in the water, I tried hugging everyone I seen. It was the best night of my life.

After that night, I learned that I loved alcohol. If I got alcohol, I had to get as drunk as I could, and I had to be the most intoxicated out of everyone else. That was always my goal. At that point, I was on top of the world, and nothing could stop me. I spent my teen years searching for any chance to drink. Usually, it involved friend’s parents who didn’t care that we drank. I used people at such a young age for something that was destructing my life.

I still remember my first high school dance that I went to. My mom brought me to the dress store in town. I remember walking by as a little girl and admiring all the pretty dresses. I always thought one day I could by a dress from there. At 16, I finally did! It was light blue. I had to get it altered to fit me. My chest is busty and well that always made things hard to fit. I curled my hair, I did my make-up, and my friends all came over so we could take pictures together. It was 4 of us. They were all my best friends and they begged me to come with. I always refused to go to dances because I never felt pretty and I always felt fat. I remember my friend telling me that I looked gorgeous. And, we all agreed we were going to get fucked up after.

We ended up drinking in my friend’s basement. Her parents had a bar and they left us have a couple of drinks. It ended up me and my best friend taking so many shots that we could barely walk. I remember my friend’s mom thinking it was funny and everyone laughing. We were having so much fun. It all changed when they were ready for bed. My best friend and I walked in and out of their house at least 20 times. She had a huge family and they could hear us laughing, falling, and trying to be quiet. We ended up smoking all of my other friend’s cigarettes and we actually made out. We were just goofing off.

The next morning, we were asked to leave. They did not want us there. My friend and I walked over a mile to find a phone so my dad could pick us up. That was the first time that I ruined a night with my drinking. What was supposed to be a fun night turned out to be a night I just ruined, and the pattern followed me.

I was always creating trouble, and I thought I was just creating memories that people would laugh about later. Instead, I was creating enemies. I just loved to be black out drunk.

Slowly, and gradually, it followed me into adulthood.

I would encourage my mom to buy us drinks. She would say one and I would have 12. She would buy wine, let me have a cup, and I would finish the entire glass of it. I would walk around the streets drunk, blacked out, no clue where I was going, and it didn’t matter because it was fun.

I drank on Christmas night after I turned 21. I decided it was not going to be a good night unless I was drunk. It was never a good night unless I was drunk. I feel like I couldn’t even enjoy people’s company and I couldn’t be myself. Anyways, on Christmas, I drank almost a whole bottle of liquor. I invited a friend over. My dad begged me not to drink that night, “Tomorrow, I will go to AA.” I said laughing and running up the stairs with my friend. Funny thing is, it took me two years to actually go.

I ended up blacking out, heading my head on the toilet in the bathroom, and I broke the toilet. I do remember that I laid in the shower crying while the water ran on me. That was a pattern. My family listening to me crying and crying while I was drunk.

The next morning, my friend told me it scared her how hard I was crying while I was in the shower.

One night, I got so drunk that I decided I was going to get out of the house in the middle of the night and just walk. I would go to the bridge that connected Wisconsin and Michigan, and I would jump. It was probably right around that Christmas. I can not remember if it was before or after. I never did leave. I wrote the note, though. I fell asleep on my closet floor, crying of course, and after taking a couple sleeping pills.

I always thought that it was going to numb that pain. Instead, it created more pain. It created pain for my family and friends and this was only the beginning before I even moved down south. I became a burden to everyone.

It always ended with me crying and wanting to die. I still don’t know why.

Drinking to me now is like playing a game with death. Now, in the present. I have been hospitalized twice since last September. I took an ambulance 4 times. I have been rushed to the ER by family. I’m scared to drink.

I’m scared I will never change and I am going to break people around me when I am really gone. I don’t even have a logical explanation to why I do this.

I just keep telling myself that if I drink today, I might be dead tomorrow. I try to scare myself. I don’t want to be another girl from my small town who killed herself. Who everyone pities and wishes they would have done something. The truth is no matter what anyone does or says I am the only person in control and nothing will change that.

I am in control. 

 

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