Alcoholism

Hi, my name is TrackTown089. I'm here because

#MightyTogether #Anxiety #PTSD #OCD #EatingDisorder #ADHD #Alcoholism #SeizureDisorder

For a long time, I was caught in a cycle of eating disorders and alcoholism—trying to numb the pain, trying to find control, trying to feel enough. On the surface, I may have looked fine, but inside, I was crumbling. Shame, guilt, and isolation became my normal. I was exhausted—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

I tried everything to fix myself. But no diet, no drink, no self-help solution could fill the emptiness inside me. I felt like I was slowly dying, and in so many ways, I was.

I hated myself so much that I starved my body down to about 75 pounds and began cutting my body up as a way to punish myself because I truly believed I was a bad person; that I was damaged goods and that I didn’t deserve to be alive.

One day, as I sat inside a locked eating disorder facility, staring at a glass of Ensure and refusing to drink the nutrients my body so desperately needed, God met me! It was in that place of brokenness, that He gave me the hope, truth, and love I had been so desperately searching for.

In the stillness of that room, I heard Him whisper, “This isn’t the life I have made for you.” It wasn’t a voice of condemnation—it was love, deep and unmistakable. “You were created for more. You were made on purpose, for a purpose.”

The eating disorder and alcoholism had taken so much from me—my joy, my health, my identity. I had been chasing control, trying to fill a void that nothing in this world could satisfy. But Jesus met me right there in my mess—not to shame me, but to rescue me.

John 10:10 says, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” And that’s exactly what He did—He took the broken pieces of my life and began to make something new. He showed me that true freedom isn’t found in the perfect body or a numbed-out escape—it’s found in Him.

That’s why Easter means so much to me- it’s more than a holiday- Its a reminder that redemption isn’t just a possibility—it’s a promise. Because He lives, I live. Because He conquered death, I can walk in freedom. My story is proof that resurrection still happens.

I still walk the road of recovery, but I walk it now with hope, with purpose, and with the One who overcame the grave living inside of me!

Took a short nap as sleep eluded me last night. Accomplished another ‘ project” yesterday which left me a little sore today. I was surprised over the overwhelming response on my post this morning and hopefully will figure out a way to implement it. I thank all of you for reading and commenting on it. There are things most people don’t realize what a lot of us have or are going through. In my prior life, I was actually a medical professional for 32 years, 14 years working the 7p-7A shift at a downtown ER followed by 18 years with a large Fire department as a Lt/FF/ Paramedic. I was injured in a extrication assignment trying to save the life of a man in a pick up truck with a tractor trailer going off a over pass and landing directly on top of the man’s pick up truck. It took us 1 1/2 hours to get him out. I ended up in surgery after a spinal cord injury in my neck which resulted in a fusion of C-4 though C-7. I ended up being medically retired and was then given a title that I despise “ Disabled”. I learned more from experience then I could ever learn from a book. I can tell you about chronic pain, deep depression, suicidal ideation, and isolation. As well as alcoholism which I turned to trying to cure the pain. I can tell you the look of disappointment as your wife looks at just a drunk. 3 years sober now. I honestly had lost all purpose in life. So yes, I’ve seen it from both sides. Isolation can be the worse. That’s one reason I’m here. I feel I can help others. A isolated person will become depressed and it will spiral out of control. After Hunter died, ( my other Golden Retriever ) that about pushed me over the edge. My wife worked and Hunter was my only friend I had. He never left my side. I bought Buddy out of grief. He’s just the opposite of Hunter though. So yes, that’s why I advocate for other members to reach out to all our newer members and help to emotionally support them. I’ve had to pronounce to many people who had died who couldn’t get the help they needed. It leaves a entire family blaming themselves. Thank you to all who’ve read this far. Yes we can make a difference in others life!…..David P.S. The man in the truck lived and was awarded 3.2 million from anheiser Busch

SEVERE SHARP PAIN IN MY CHEST 10 PM Saturday after snow shovelling n watering down ice, got yelled at at the top of his lungs for 1.0.0.5 hours for wearing a dress n my cowboy boots on the couch after watching a movie about fame n alcoholism, if I drink I have one beer or some wine n control it, extremely hard, watched Suicide documentaries all Sunday n vented n broke plates while washing dishes Sun afternoon, today back to normal, healed n hosted Elderly for around 5 hours, gave presents n watched an Ireland documentary, he thought I was unfaithful n I wasn't, called friend n Emotion spons re kids school, n tried to cheer up sad old people and ended up cold, thank you but its hard, too many songs in my head

So I’d stop drinking and not ruin my life by becoming an alcoholic.

I see it every day at work, especially when I facilitate Persons in Recovery group. Out of the 15 adults who attend regularly, 9 are alcoholics. Each of them has their own unique story about how alcohol and addiction destroyed their lives.

The majority have criminal records.
The majority were in so deep that they experienced alcohol withdrawal—seizures, sickness—whenever they stopped drinking.
The majority have made fools of themselves in front of their loved ones.

I always hid my drinking. Which, if I’ve learned anything as a recovery coach, is a major red flag. A sign of alcoholism.
I always downplayed how much I drank.
And I think—because I was a “fun drunk”—I managed to fool the people around me. And myself.

I’m happy I’m not an angry drunk.
I’m happy I’m not a sad drunk—though, honestly, the jury’s still out on that one.

When I drink with others, I’m fun. I’m happy. The life of the party.
The problem was when I drank alone.

The Way My Brain Works

My head is a chaotic place. Always has been.

My first memory of life goes like this:
A woman with long black hair and a blue-and-black dress shirt is spanking me. Or hitting me. I’m not sure. But I know I’m being hurt. Physically and emotionally. And I’m crying.

I don’t know who this woman is, though I have my suspicions.

This is how my brain works:
A little girl, maybe three or four years old, is being hurt by a trusted adult. How sad.
But there’s no doubt in my mind that I must have deserved it.
I must have done something to make this happen.
Because I am a bad person.

Everything bad that happens to me—I deserve.

Like being depressed and suicidal through most of my teen years.
Like being sent to psych ward after psych ward, then group home after group home.
I deserved it—for messing up my siblings’ lives, by ruining our adoption in Minnesota.
Just like I deserved being kicked out of my adoptive parents’ house at 18.
Because I chose drugs. I deserved to be homeless.

Just like I deserved the first abusive relationship.
And the second one after that.
Because I hurt my parents. By doing drugs.

Every time I think about that first memory, I go through the same thought process.
And every time, I arrive at the same conclusion.

I deserve it.

This is how my brain works.

The Pain & The Question: Why?

So when my back started hurting in September 2024, I spent months racking my brain, trying to figure out what I did to deserve this pain.

I had spent my whole life experiencing mental pain.
At least with that, I could always figure out why I hated myself.

But this—this was physical pain.
The worst I had ever experienced.

I kept asking myself:
Why? What did I do?

I had gotten clean from my drug of choice.
I had worked on myself.
I had finally reached a place where I didn’t hate myself.
I was the happiest I had ever been in my life.

So why now?

And then, ironically—while intoxicated—I think I figured it out.

The Background

I was born and raised in Nebraska.
A year and a half ago, I moved to Michigan.

Two and a half years ago, I was in full-blown addiction.
Adderall and meth—my drugs of choice.
I was using nearly every day.
The only exceptions were when I ran out of money or my plugs (plural) were waiting on their next prescription refill.
But for over a year, I never went a full week without using.

It got bad.
My mental health hit an all-time low.
Which is saying something—because I’ve always considered myself a depressed human being.

Then, one day—by the grace of God—I decided to reach out to my aunt.
I needed to escape the cycle of bad decisions.
I moved away from everything I had ever known.
I came to Michigan and quite literally turned my life around.

I got clean.
Forcibly, of course.
That was the whole point of moving.
I didn’t know anyone here. I had no connections. No access.
It was the only way I could not pick up.

Life got better.
I became happy—something I had never been before.

For 21 years, I had lived in darkness.
For the first time, I had light.

I landed an amazing job—helping others.
And, funny enough, my experience with addiction actually helped me.
I never saw that coming.

My relationship with God blossomed.
For the first time since childhood, I felt Him.
He had my back.
He gave me the courage to leave everything behind.

The blessings kept coming.

But I was lying to myself.
Or maybe, at first, I just didn’t see it.

Because alcohol was never my drug of choice.

At least, not until I stopped using amphetamines.

Alcohol Becomes My Drug of Choice

At first, I drank for fun.
With my brothers on game nights.
With my friends.
Always for fun.

But when I moved here, I started drinking more.
I now know I simply replaced one drug with another.
Alcohol for Adderall.

I don’t know how long it went on—more than two months for sure—but I drank every single day.

I even learned that Mohawk vodka costs exactly $3.67 after tax at the liquor store around the corner.

I denied my problem for a long time.
But at some point, I admitted it to myself.

And around that time, I met Brian.
My soulmate. (Cheesy, I know. But it’s true.)

We had our first argument after I asked him if I could drink that night.
That was the beginning of my wake-up call.

The Present: The Realization About My Pain

Fast-forward to now.

I have been drunk twice in the past five months.

I no longer drink every day.
But I also know why: because I am on pain meds.

Hydrocodone.
An opioid.
My new best friend.

You can’t drink on pain meds.
And I am in too much pain to risk making them ineffective.

That’s why I stopped drinking.

I moved to Michigan and got clean because I had no access.
I stopped drinking because of my back pain.

The ironic thing?
Opioids are addictive.

I used to tell myself, My drug of choice has always been uppers, not downers.

But alcohol is a downer.
And I got hooked on that.

So what’s stopping me from getting hooked on this?

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted or been on but a Big Hello to all the newer members ! My history is Chronic Pain 24/7 for 10 years following a injury and subsequent surgery for it. (ACDF of C-4 through C-7) and now have adjacent disk disease on interior of C-1 and C-2 as a prize for the initial surgery. As well, issues with L-4 and L-5, Bilateral medial meniscus tears, Following that I had a great lesson on Depression, Suicidal ideations, alcoholism,( Been 100% sober for 2 years now.) as well as self isolation. But every day is a great day ! All of you have found a great site where you’ll see others battling similar issues or other issues. Just know your never alone ! Now that were hitting the “ Holiday Seasons “ you’ll see different reactions from everyone here. Personally Holidays to me are stressful and at times can provoke depression. As I have a tendency to ramble, I’ll close for now. Remember, whatever issues your facing, you can beat !…David

I am sitting at my son’s bedside in the hospital while he is detoxing. He has dealt with depression & anxiety basically his whole life. He will be 35 next week. My heart breaks for him. Depression, anxiety, alcoholism runs in our family. I feel guilty because I brought these children into the world, not realizing how genetics would effect them with these mental health issues. My son constantly tells me he wishes he was never born😪
& even more so today he has been saying the most vile things but I know it’s wanting the drugs that is causing him to say anything to try and obtain them.

To begin with, I want to thank everyone as well as apologize to everyone with my venting yesterday. Today is another fresh day. The main reason I stay on this site is to help others. In my past life I spent 32 years of my life helping people. My injury which took my career was actually a God send as I could see both sides of the fence Both as a medical professional and then as a patient. I learned that medical professionals can and should help in different ways. Following my injury and surgery was truly the most educational point in my life. I now have education in pain management, depression which I never knew how deep it could get, alcoholism, ( been sober now for over a year and a half) , isolation, as well as suicidal ideation with intent. In my past life, I can’t count how many suicides I’ve been to. While on scene, I would always ask myself how bad could their life have been to commit suicide. I now understand more. The worst part was telling the family that there was nothing we could do. I’ve shed a lot of tears holding their families as they shed their tears as well. For those considering it, please reach out to someone. You honestly don’t realize how it destroys your families that you left behind. They always blame themselves. Jason, who is a newer member ( I love reading his post ) pretty much hit the nail on the head with his input on MDs. Whether mental or medical, instead of it being there to help people in need, it has turned into big business with profit being the objective. It’s not the MDs or RNs, it’s the CEOs who look at cost versus patient outcomes. I’ll quit my all to usual rambling for a bit and wish all a positive relaxing day. Again thank you all…..David