The following entry is completely theoretical and is an example of creating writing...
26 - 31
My drinking carried on getting gradually worse and worse - i was slowly killing myself and i just couldn’t stop.
i became a habitual "crier" i got used to sitting in my one room - in a shared house. Crying and swigging strong red wine straight out of the bottle. Whilst popping the occasional valium or zopiclone.
I had an incredibly large amount of hate for myself. I began to self harm - never causing serious damage ( i did not want to die) but i just hated the world and hated myself - looking back now - i think i found it hard to differentiate the two entities (hate for the world vs hate for myself)
Alcohol - and addiction had corrupted my soul through and through - i was sinking fast.
Often i would be completely un-reasonable and downright rude and disrespectful to my parents - whenever i would visit - I also upset my sister - who has always been there for me.
To be frank - I just became a complete fucking arsehole. (Excuse my language but I feel that is the correct way to describe what I was) - Sometimes I would end up screaming C*@T to my stepfather - and acting like a raving psychopath... when I look back on I am ashamed - and I shudder.
It all came to a head in November 2008.
I woke up one morning and looked around my bedroom. There where empty bottles and i noticed that all my zopiclone had gone.
I felt like fried shit and i had this horrible sinking feeling as some fragments of memories started coming back to me.
During the night I had phone Neril , the samaratans and the AA.
When i saw that i had used all of my zopiclone and practically all of my diazepam - i shit myself.
I had to throw up at least once shortly after waking. (Which had become a common thing for me now)
I realised how deeply and terribly unhappy I was at this point - finally i think i had had enough
I called the duty doctor and told him how much i was drinking and that i couldn’t stop and that i just wanted to - but that i was scared. i told him i was nearly out of my meds... and that i kept being sick.
He advised me strongly to go to casualty because if i passed out through being so drunk - the apart from choking on my own vomit - i might have actually ended up with some sick in my lungs and pneumonia.
He pointed out to me (it was obvious i guess but it hit home when he said it) that i was in danger of Croaking and that I should go and present myself to A&E.
I promptly did this - i got a cab to the hospital. When i was there i decided to call my sister (i can’t remember if i called her before or after going in)
But I told her that I’ve had enough and that i need to be locked up and sectioned so that i can't drink until i sober up. To be honest the idea of a nice cushy hospital bed and some decent benzos was quite appealing too. since i was an addict who was in deep - even in the darkest of moments and at my rock bottom i was still thinking of ways to get high - its sad but true.
What my sister said to me however completely rocked my world and made me see things in a yet more definite and determined light.
She was quite angry with me when she answered the phone -= when i asked her what’s up - what have i done to upset her - she said "What!!!?? - don’t you know?" I’m like "errm no?" she explained that i had totally and utterly verbally attacked our mother the previous night - Blaming her for everything - saying its her fault that i become a fucked up drug addict and alcoholic - just because she used to let me smoke weed with her and in the house and sometimes use speed and ecstasy with her and my step -dad.
Now i know this is not exactly the norm but it is still Not my Mums fault that that i drank and drank and drank so much that i became a raving alcoholic. That was my doing and i needed to Own that.
It is not My Mums fault that I had continued to smoke such devastatingly large amounts of cannabis that i caused my pre-existing depression and anxiety to sky rocket out of complete control - ending up with delusions of grandeur , (i used to think i was superior to all other humans and that i was special and some kind of fricking wizard) and borderline insanity. I was literally petrified all the time - angry and afraid - simultaneously. All of this was my doing and i needed to own it.
It wasn’t my Mum's fault that my GP advised me to tell the DVLA that i was taking Diazepam - which subsequently led to them subpoena all of my medical records. They found out about my cannabis usage and revoked my license for medical reasons.
I was furious over this as it took away my freedom and a big chunk of my pride - but at this stage there was precious little of this anyway. All of this - was my doing and i needed to Own it.
It wasn’t my Mums fault that when i tried to get my license back I failed the blood test and was refused because i was clearly drinking too much alcohol - my liver was leaking enzymes all over the show and the bloods showed them this all too clearly. This was not my Mums fault either - and yes, I needed to own this too.
I blamed my Mum for how I had fucked up my life.
My Mum was so upset with me that she basically gave me an ultimatum and stated that I either give up the drink forever or sort my life out or i won’t be able to see her ever again. I had hurt her so much that she was at the point that she could endure it no longer. My step dad and sister were both of similar point of view.
When I went into the hospital the doctors made sure i had enough diazepam, but they spoon fed it to me - making me go back the day after next to pick up another 10mgs. (it was the weekend - a Saturday) so i couldn’t go to my Gp at this stage. The also advised me not to stop drinking completely because of the serious risk of me having a fit - I was drinking 30-50 units of alcohol a day. I did actually have about 3-4 beers that night but then the next day i quit alcohol.
And the rest as they say, is history
Age 31- Now
During my long path to recovery , I have been down the AA route , I have had counselling , Cognitive Behavioural Therapy , I have seen a General Practioner who specialises in drug and alcohol addiction I have seen a psychologist and a psychiatrist.
What really worked for me was when I had a great deal of motivation and desire to stop drinking.
I was going to lose my family - they were going to disown me.
So there was the motivation.
My desires basically arose because I had actually become bored with being drunk out of my fricking skull every night - tired of shaking every time i came out of the office at 5pm. I was tired of vomiting when i got home - and i realised that i had definitely "had my fill" of booze and that i was not going to miss it. One of the biggest reasons for wishing to stop drink and drugs ,was, as i have stated, the fact that i was going to lose my mum, step-father and sister unless i changed my ways - big time.
Once I had decided I was going to stop based on these grounds - I actually stopped drinking completely - BUT and this is a big but - I had my doctor prescribe me diazepam in order to withdraw ( i could have died otherwise because my physical addiction was so high) .My doctor was really great - he (at my request) gradually reduced my diazepam by 2mg's at a time every 2 weeks or so. And gradually bit by bit - something of the old Oneiromancer came back to us.
I felt like I had been given a second chance at life and I was well pleased.
As i have said I am not an AA member - I stayed with them for about a year and i learnt some helpful things. I'm not with them now. But the knowledge and insight i gained from them - is stored together with information I received from medical professionals and fellow ex-addicts.
I learnt that dwelling in the past and resenting what had happened during my drunken and high years was just a form of punishing myself.
I realised and decided that there comes a time when you have punished yourself enough.
I learnt that men are not disturbed by things - but by the view which we take of them.
I learnt how powerful my perception of "reality" really was - and that it was infinitely better to just allow myself to be human and make mistakes, and to try to see the bright side for once. Just to try it - because after all I had been morbidly pessimistic my whole life and that had got me nowhere - so why not give being positive just a try?
Once i did of course - i never looked back.
I realised that I was not a bad person trying to be good , but a sick person trying to get well. And this was a massive change of perspective for me.
I learnt to live in the Now - and that the future is not set and is nothing be afraid of -
I learnt that fear breeds fear.
I learnt during my recovery to just accept me for who i was.
And i realised that i wasn’t such a bad guy after all
Once i had done this and had been humble enough to admit my mistakes to myself and others - and just to get over myself and move on ; Once I had realised this - there was no need to Hide from myself behind of wall intoxication.
I learnt why I drank.
Here I am now and it has been quite an experience living my life up to this point.
I live in a very nice house with my beautiful girlfriend who i love with all my heart.
We have two cats whom we adore.
I have my driving license re-instated in full
I have a nice automatic car and have just had a second interview for a new job.
People want to know me now - and i want to know them.
I am a part of life.
And I know how lucky I am to be here today, surrounded by friendly people.
Thank you for taking the time to read My Story - I hope you can all take something from it.
I represent myself - And I say that I am here to learn, to teach, to share and to offer help and advice to any decent man or woman who asks for it.
Peace and Respect
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My Story - Part 2