Alcoholism

Content note: This post discusses alcohol addiction, suicidal thoughts, and recovery.

For a while, I was unmedicated and wasn't receiving the mental health support I needed. I knew I needed help, but knowing you need help and actually seeking it can be two very different things.

I started drinking early in my life, and by the time I was in the Navy, alcohol had become a problem. I drank constantly. Eventually, drinking became a life-or-death situation because of what it did to my mental health.

There were times when I drank until I couldn't remember what I had done. During some of those times, I put myself in danger.

Eventually, I had to make difficult decisions to protect myself. I had to acknowledge that there were things I could no longer safely access. Accepting that was incredibly hard, but it was necessary.

The last incident was the one that finally terrified me enough to understand how serious everything had become. Someone I love intervened and prevented me from making a decision I wouldn't have been able to take back.

I don't remember the incident.

That may have been the scariest realization of all.

I knew I had to seek help. I had to stop drinking.

Recovery has been a battle, but today I am 57 days sober, the longest I've been sober in three years.

And I am incredibly proud of myself.

I'm also saddened sometimes by how much had to happen before I understood what seems so clear to me now.

I never wanted to die.

I wanted relief.

I wanted relief from the pressure my life had created. I wanted the fighting to stop. I wanted my mind to become quiet. I wanted to breathe.

Through sheer persistence, so many of the things I spent years fighting through eventually started to turn around.

Now I finally get to breathe.

But today, recovery feels different.

My life is becoming quieter, and I'm realizing that peace can feel uncomfortable when your nervous system has spent years preparing for the next disaster.

I'm learning to sit with that.

I'm learning that I don't have to fight every thought that enters my head.

I'm learning how to exist without constantly surviving.

I'm still working on some things. I still have coping mechanisms I want to change. I'm learning how to live with memories.

But I'm here.

#SuicidalIdeation #Recovery #Addiction #PTSD #Suicide #Alcoholism

Sometimes this question crosses my mind. I know I have to accept and love myself as I am, and most days I manage to do that, but there are days when I think about how much simpler everything could be. On those days, I remember what I was like at 6 years old, back when I was blissfully unaware and happy. That little girl was full of life, hope, dreams, and possibilities.

When I was 8, everything started to fall apart. I began to understand the world around me that my mom wasn't tired, she was drunk that my dad wasn't a good person, and certainly not a good father and that I would never have a normal family. I feel like my opportunities were stolen from me. They stole the person I could have been if I had been born to good parents.

Because of the constant stress, I don't remember years of my childhood. But I vividly remember my father's aggression, my mother's drunk self who could never be counted on. I remember her drunkenly telling me she hated me, and I remember my father saying he didn't love me. I remember being 12 years old and having to drive us home because she was too drunk. And I could go on.

My mom was a complicated person if she had gotten the right help, she would still be alive and would be a wonderful person. The most painful part of her alcoholism was watching a special person slowly fade away. My dad is a different story. I never saw that much value in his personality. He never offered emotional support, and he has no idea what parental responsibilities mean. He's selfish, and I never felt safe with him.

Because of them, I became interested in psychology as a child so that I wouldn't repeat their mistakes. I know my negative experiences have also given me a lot of knowledge, but I still often think about that little girl I once was, and now she feels like a stranger.

#MentalHealth #Depression #Alcoholism

Hi, my name is Pitmem2. I'm here because

#MightyTogether #Anxiety #Depression #Migraine and alcoholism

Hi, my name is ZigZac. I'm here because

#MightyTogether #Addiction #Alcoholism #PTSD #Depression #Anxiety #AtaxiaTelangiectasia #ADHD

So, I already knew I was an alcoholic. I didn't think I was in denial. But I also didn't really think I was bad enough that I needed to stop... not yet. I was thinking I could wait a little longer, and just cut back. I had, in fact, been doing this with moderate success. I figured, I can take it at my own pace and there's no rush.

I was totally wrong. Last week, I started vomiting uncontrollably and forcefully. Soon, I began to see blood in it. I couldn't stop. I had to stay lying on my side, with a bucket next to the bed so I could lean over and throw up in it. Even a sip of water would come right back up. I didn't even understand where it was all coming from, since I figured there couldn't be anything left in my stomach.

It turned out I had torn my esophagus, and was bleeding into my stomach. This was what continued to come up.

I went to the ER and was then admitted to the hospital, where I was hooked up to two IVs, through which I was given many bags of fluids and several medications for nausea and withdrawal. Once my physical health was stabilized, I was discharged with appointments at a clinic for addiction and mental health treatment.

My last drink was the day before I entered the hospital. I am a severe alcoholic and I absolutely cannot drink ever again, because it might kill me.

I'm sorry to be so graphic, but it's important to me to be honest about this. I assume it will be censored if any staff here feel that it's too much.

#Addiction #Alcoholism

I lost them to "God".

I lost them to alcoholism. And then I lost them to the grift that is AA and Alanon.

I lost them to "The Secret", manifesting emptiness and more grifting.

I lost them to crystals, outdated planetary positions, forgotten signs in favor of trends, and "healing light".

I lost them to sickness and death because they didn't believe in science.

I lost them to racism.

I lost them to MAGA

I lost them to Capitalism, Patriarchy and the status quo.

I lost them to Zionism.

Sickness and Death are normal and as humans we learn to cope with the natural losses life brings.

Losing someone to harmful propaganda is like being surrounded by zombies capable of making one choice: to sacrifice their empathy and critical thinking just so they, as an individual living in a human society, can FEEL good regardless (and in some cases in spite of) of how it affects others.

I'm so tired of grieving the loss of other people's empathy, the demise of critical thinking and basic humanity around me.

#Loss #CPTSD #Grief #emotionalprose #Reflections