"It's like I have a gun in my mouth and I like the way the metal taste." Robert Downey Jr
Alcoholism is a broad term for problems with alcohol, and is generally used to mean compulsive and uncontrolled consumption of alcoholic beverages.
I can remember the May of 1997 like it was yesterday. I was 12 years old and I had spent the morning and much of the afternoon at the college watching many people I knew walk across the stage. I had gone to watch a very close family friend with our family friends. Little did I know that would be the day I would soon discover how much a drink could mean to my life.
I had been invited to go to his graduation party with the family and all of his college buddies.I thought nothing of it seeing as how I wouldn't be the youngest child there, nor the oldest being under 18. There were plenty of children younger than me at 12, how much trouble could this be? As the party went on, I ventured out back to where the real party was. No one would give me a glass of whatever was in the pitcher they had out there, that was just for the adults. What they failed to realize was, the fruit they kept pulling out of this pitcher soaked in booze was just as easy to get a buzz off it. This pitcher had homemade hooch in it, made with lots of fruits and other things. I started eating the fruit that came from this pitcher and soon had a feeling, an overwhelming sensation that I liked. I liked feeling 10 feet tall and bulletproof. I enjoyed this rush, this high, a feeling I had never had before. As the hooch pitcher kept getting lower and lower, the fruit got to being more and more that I could eat on. With every piece of fruit, that rush, got to be more and more enjoyable, that high got better and better.
The next morning, as I woke to the overly bright sun and loud noises coming from the kitchen, I didn't feel so great. I was sick. My first thought of course was not to the fruit I had consumed the mere 5 hours before. My first thought was getting to the bathroom and hoping I made it there before I puked all over the place. I would soon learn this feeling to be that of a hangover. This again was a brand new feeling, a scary, not so great feeling. One I was hoping to never experience again. My head pounded, my eyes burned from the sun, my body shook, and there was no way I was getting out of bed. I tried to eat that day, but that didn't help. If I could have just remembered the night before and how I got this way, maybe it would all make sense.
It took me another 7 months before I was able to chase the high from that May night. It was New Years and I was back at the same house for another party. This one was to ring in 1998! I remember sneaking into the kitchen and getting glasses of wine and champagne, hoping to not get caught! I never got caught, so the drinks kept coming. The feeling of the rush or high I was chasing never came back that. So of course, I thought the more I drink, that feeling is sure to come back, not remembering the whole time of my hangover, feeling like death the whole day. There was no stopping me, I wanted my high, I needed to feel that rush, a rush/high that never came. The next day though, that hangover was back. Most would think this would be enough to deter me from ever picking up another bottle, sadly no it didn't.
Fast forward to May of 2000, age 15. I was living in Evansville and hanging with the wrong crowd. The "friends" I had only cared about a few things, drinking being the biggest of these.The best part of this group of "friends" was that the parents were the suppliers of our drinking binges. We would get out of school and walk home to find beer sitting on the table waiting on us. This became my life, drinking everyday after school and hoping my mother would never catch me. I was chasing that high, that rush I got at 12. I never discovered that rush, but I did discover that my tolerance raised. At 15 years old, I started a drinking binge that I would chase for the better part of the next 4 years.
4 years of chasing a high that never came, a rush that never showed up again. I spent the next 4 years, drinking for hours a day, sometimes starting at 4 in the afternoon only to finish when I passed out. I passed out or blacked out in more places that you can imagine. I would fall asleep on the floor, the couch, the bathroom floor, and even outside on a porch. At 16 years old I was full blown into an addiction I saw no end to. My day would start by waking up feeling so sick and shaking like a leaf. I would stay this way until I could get that drink and all of a sudden, I felt better. It was like medicine for me. The hangovers had stopped, my body just craved a drink. What had started out with just a beer, soon became vodka and the harder, more intense drinks. I can recall being so desperate for a drink, I would hide booze in my closet and drink them hot, just to not be sick.
At 19 years old, I made the choice to stop drinking. I had made this choice based on this desire I had to have a child. I couldn't have a baby growing in my belly and be drinking. I wanted my baby to have the best place to grow. I quit drinking and quickly got pregnant. Not far into the pregnancy, I lost the baby. As much as my heart broke, I knew a drink wouldn't help if I wanted to be a mom. I got pregnant again and had the absolute worse pregnancy in the world, but it was all worth it to have my miracle baby. On June 3 2005, my sweet, brown eyed baby boy was born. The joy that came with being his mommy and hearing him cry for the first time is a feeling that is indescribable. That feeling was so much better than the high or rush drinking had ever given me. Watching this little boy grow, talk, crawl, and walk was so amazing.
20 days before Kaizer turned 1, we had a family reunion with an open bar. I hadn't had a drink in almost 2 years, I thought I had conquered that alcoholic demon in my head. How wrong I was. It started with a beer and quickly moved to 3 more drinks by the nights end. I was not as strong as I thought I was. This 4 hour drinking binge lead me down the next 18 months of drinking almost nightly, always justifying to myself the same 3 thing, my bills are paid, my child is taken care of, and there is food in the house. As long as those 3 things are taken care of then I can drink until I black out. Over the next 3 years, I would drink sporadically and sometimes get wasted, but not like I had been doing.
August of 2011, as I made the move back to Evansville, my fears of becoming the same person I was in high school came flooding back. The fear of living in the big wet town where there is a bar or liquor store on every corner, where I can go to the grocery store or gas station and just buy what I want. I want a 6 pack, give me 15 minutes, I'll come back with 4. The reality of this is, I have become that person again. I spend many nights drinking until I pass out. It started out with 3 drinks a night and has quickly gone to 12 . Some nights I have 12 with shots, many shots. I drink to forget the pain of some of the toughest parts of my life, some events in my life. I drink to not have to face the fact that I wake up everyday and look at a chart of 11 meds that my son has to take in order to eat, got to the bathroom, breathe. Even though I know that I caused none of these issues with him, it still sucks to face it. I drink to forget me.
No I'm not a bad mom or even a bad person. I am a person with a problem. Hello, my name is Asha and I am an alcoholic. A couple of days ago, I had someone reach out to me and really open my eyes to the reality of my life. I am drinking my life away and for what? All so I can have a another drink. As I write this, I'm going on 48 hours without a drink, I haven't done that since Christmas. I'm shaky from withdrawal and sick. I'm sad and I feel like crying. All I want to do is run and get a drink, but I am tackling being sober to give my son the best life out there, without a drunk for his mother. The next few hours, days, weeks, and even months may get hard for me, but I have to stay strong and somehow make it through.
The reality of an alcoholic's life is this, they can never have just 1 drink, that 1 drink always leads to 3, 4, or 9, 10. We can never go to the bar for a quick drink, we will forget our way home. We aren't bad people, we have just made bad choices. We can never be "social" drinkers. We don't know how to do that. The reality of an alcoholic is this, that bottle in our hand, usually feels like our best friend. That bottle in our hand has stolen our life and kept us in the shadows for far too long. This road to sobriety won't be easy and I may stumble, but I am hoping to be able to pick myself back up.
