Citation: Kaduchima. "The Captain Morgan Fiasco: An Experience with Alcohol - Hard (exp34688)". Erowid.org. Dec 16, 2006. erowid.org/exp/34688
I never drank alcohol at all until I was eighteen years old and even then I never drank to exess. But then came The Captain Morgan Fiasco. I was 19 at the time and living with my boyfriend in some apartments of campus from our college. We had one of our friends over that night to engage in a rousing game of Quarters with us. I had secured a 'handle bottle' of Captain Morgan Spiced Rum for the festivities. I was planning on only sitting in for a few rounds as I am not too fond of take pure shots of liquor. But...one round turned into five and so on and so on until, between the 3 of us we had finished off the entire enormous bottle. I am not a big girl and didn't have a huge tolerance so the experience was by far the worst for me (my boyfriend was a large guy and so was our friend).
The dose described in this report is very high, potentially beyond Erowid's 'heavy' range, and could pose serious health risks or result in unwanted, extreme effects. Sometimes extremely high doses reported are errors rather than actual doses used.]
I ended up taking in my best estimation anywhere from 30 to 40 shots of rum. Somewhere around the tenth shot I started feeling those familiar drunken feelings but for some reason I was determined to continue playing the game. I was feeling very out going and proceeded to hug every single person that entered our apartment that night (we had another roommate who had TONS of friends) whether I knew who they were or not. Being the outgoing person that I am I began telling jokes and entertaining the growing crowd of people in our apartment while still engaging in the game of quarters.
After about 5 more shots, all the strangers left and we were joined by some very close friends of mine and my boyfriend's. And this where things get bad. After about an hour and 15 more shots (shit I was dumb!) I decided that I would smoke part of a joint that my friend S started passing around. I only remember fragments after this. When the weed started to hit me I got this overwhelming feeling that I was swimming through the scene. I somehow managed to get to my feet and stumble towards the bedroom. Sara, being the wonderful girl that she is, followed me to see if I was going to be all right. I kept repeating over and over again that I just needed to take a bath and that I be fine.
She ran a bath for me and she left. I stared down at the water for a while and thought to myself I will drown if I get in there so I decided to lay down for a minute. I made my way over to the bed and crashed out completely for about an hour. I have no idea how I was not in a coma at this point but I woke up and decided to rejoin my friends in the living room. That is when I realized that I had no motor skills whatsoever. I managed to roll myself out of the bed and onto the messy floor (Side note:my boyfriend and I were extreme packrats and our bedroom floor was cover in all of our random shit)Once on the floor , not being able to see a thing, revision, seeing a million of everything but not being able to make out what anything was, I dragged myself on my stomach to the door of our bedroom.
At this point I just wanted to get to my friends because I was convinced that I had alcohol poisoning and was on the brink of death. When I finally reached the bedroom door and felt like I had taken an epic journey through a vast world of books, cd's, and dirty underwear, I had to somehow get to my feet. I lift myself up just enough to reach the doorknob and pulled myself up to my feet. I carefully took a step back to give myself room to open the door. When I opened the door my boyfriend was standing there, very very drunk. I must have looked terrible because he started laughing at me. He touched me on the shoulder and just this slight touch sent me to the floor once again, sprawled out on my back on a pile of boxes. In my irrational drunk state I thought that my boyfriend had violently pushed me so I stood up, crying and laughing at the same time, and shoved him with all of my might into the wall of the hallway.
The next thing I remember after that was sitting up in bed about 4 hours later and violently vomiting all over myself and our bed. I was still very drunk and could not walk at all. But I remember being very thankful that I had woken up BEFORE I vomited. I crawled across the expanse of the bedroom floor, again, to the bathroom and found my boyfriend passed out with his head in the toilet. I shook him until he came to and I immediately burst into tears and kept repeating 'Let's never do this again!'
We both dragged ourselves into the living room and stayed awake for the next two hours smoking pot and promising each other that we would never EVER have another night like that again.
Aftermath: I found out the next day from my two sober friends (our other drinking buddy was fine save for a morning of intense puking) that I had stumble around for about an hour after I had gotten out of bed the first time and thrown up in almost every room of the house (including our roommates bedroom). I kept rambling on and on about how I was dying and that I had never done anything important in my life. There was also a crack from floor to ceiling in the wall that I had pushed my boyfriend into.
In the months that followed that my boyfriend and my relationship began to deteriorate due to extreme alcohol abuse and violence. I decided to clean myself up after that and leave him. In the 3 years since my Captain Morgan fiasco, I have never, never, gotten to a point like that from alcohol again.
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