Citation: H. "Stronger Than I Thought: An Experience with Alcohol (exp42239)". Erowid.org. Nov 22, 2005. erowid.org/exp/42239
I had my first drink when I was 14 years old at a family thanksgiving gathering. The homemade cherry heering was enough to give my quite the euphoric feeling and a strong alcohol buzz. I enjoyed the feeling soo much, in fact, that even at such a young age it became a fairly large part of my life. At about age 16 stealing a couple shots at night from my parents wasn't enough, so I found co-workers and friends who were willing to buy me bottles for a little cost. I never figured it was any problem, I mean seriously, who thinks getting a little drunk at night is any reason to fret.
Time went by, and my alcohol use became more and more. It wasnt actually a daily habit yet, but by the time I moved into my college dorm I could easily out-drink anyone who challenged me. I never had any problems with hangovers, but I blacked out on a regular basis. I only puked once when I had 1L of 101wild turkey, 6 shots malibu coconut rum, 5 shots McCormicks vodka, and 1 12 oz corona. Needless to say I had taken the hobby to a dangerous level and quite frequently. I found parties and other social activities irritable and boring without it.
Soon when fridays came along, alcohol was all I could think about. Weekends just became a blur as I went through $40-$50 in two days. With engineering courses becoming a challenge and stress elevating constantly, instead of doing something positive I picked up drinking on weekdays. Sometimes I would even start in the early afternoon right after class let out. Soon, wakeng up and finishing a bottle from the previous night was normal. I became much less social, and even had friends express concern for my personal safety. All this did was piss me off. For a while I truly believed they thought they were better than me; they considered me just some fat party animal with no future. I knew alcohol was a problem, I thought about it all the time. Sobriety was just the annoying time between my last and next drink. I still did not do anything about it, even after a close friend said I was becomeing scary and violent when I drank (with an abusive father I swore I would quit cold turkey if I ever emulated him). This put me in a mood ever so foul especially after failing an impossible physics exam not more than an hour previous. Of course I turned to my old friend, a 1.75 liter bottle of admiral nelsons that I had bought to take care of me through my physics torment. The seal wasnt even cracked, and so I had the chilled bottle all to my self.
Some person is trying to make me fill out some information, but I cant understand what she is saying (the task of filling out the form could better be achieved my a monkey). I look around through really blurry eyes trying to figure out where I am and what is going on. I notice two police officers sitting at the foot of my bed watching me, and dried blood all over my hands and arms. I frantically try to figure out what is happening, but I cant remember anything at all and no one will tell me anything. The clock looks like it says about 4.15 am. It finally dawns on me that I am in an E.R. room in the hospital, and I am alone (no friends or family). The next two hours I spent talking to a woman in a business suit, who refused to tell me who she was. Another nurse walked in at about 6 am and asked if I wanted to speak with my mother, the one person closest to me my whole life, constantly guiding and helping me. I shook to restrain the tears of just the thought of speaking to her. How could I have let myself drop so low. How could I screw up so bad.
It was later when I was driven off to detox that I found out I had blown a .36 approximately four hours after I had stopped drinking. Alcohol has been known to be lethal at .3 and above. They had rushed me to the hospital after a few friends had found me screaming 'I want to die' and 'just kill me.' I had a self inflicted lump on my head that had swollen to an unimaginable size. The woman I had talked to for hours was a therapist determining if I was a further threat to my own well being. I heard later that my friends held me down for over a half hour while the ambulance and police showed up.
I will not go into the details of detox, but my dear sweet mother dropped everything and drove out to see if I was okay. I was still somewhat drunk when she showed up at about noon, and facing her was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. I cannot explain to you how painful it was; I was unable to look her in the eyes the whole time. The friends who held me down picked me up from detox that night.
It has been 4 months ten days, 1 court meeting, 3 manditory therapist meetings, $200 dollars, and many painful conversations with family and friends, but I am free of the dreaded drink. Infact the mere thought puts the fear of god in me. I know it can be used well recreationally, but it got the best of me.
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