When life gets too overwhelming, I find the best release is to write. I recently came across something I wrote after recovering from an alcohol addiction that I want to discuss, this is not poetry:
“Sometimes I wish the bottles weren’t empty. Sitting there. Taunting me. But then I remember how I used to try to find myself at the bottom of one and then another and then another. And then I remember how I found nothing but impairment and clumsiness. And I just started to sink. Drowning. It didn’t help. It just became another problem. It wasn’t used as a mechanism to ‘forget,’ but it was a nice distraction…”
“I’ve hit rock bottom many times, and let me tell you, the edges only get sharper.”
I wrote these months ago, and I will never forget how awful I felt, intoxicated AND sober. Strange how I put “a nice distraction, ” but it was just a distraction, nothing about it is nice. The idea of getting drunk or even drinking a little makes me sick. I spent my whole summer feeling like I was trapped in the bottle, drowning in the alcohol. I finally got the strength to swim back up, gasping for air, disheveled, checking my surroundings. That whole summer is a blur. I couldn’t sleep, too afraid of what I might dream, especially in the night. Terrified of my own thoughts. When I did sleep, it was 6am, sometimes 8am. As long as the sun was up. It was my only comfort. I slept all day, and when I’d wake up I’d feel disgusting, hungover, exhausted. I stayed at my father’s that summer, I woke up wishing I was somewhere else, but not my house either. It doesn’t feel like “home” to me, I don’t have a “home.” But it would get me away from alcohol access, which was more important.
I got back from my father’s in August, and I finished off a bottle of brandy I had stolen from my his liquor canbinet the day before school. Then I was sober for over 4 months. It felt like a year. Then New Year’s came and we all know where that led, and I’m not proud of it, it was hard to swallow but I wanted to play it off as normal. So I drank, and I felt terrible for it.
And then I truly realized I don’t care how “lame” sobriety is or what someone is going through, I refuse to drink with them, or anyone. It just brings on painful nostalgia.
It also goes to show that no matter someone’s age, they can be struggling with addiction(s). So if you are struggling, don’t give up on yourself, but do give up on the addiction. And if you feel like you must have a distraction, take up something healthy, in moderation of course. Don’t sit around feeling sorry for yourself and wasting your life, please. The world is full of beautiful things. You will have your ups and downs, but you get stronger with every time you push yourself back up.
You’re not alone.