I was shocked to see a post I didn’t recognize on my home page. After reading a few sentences that were clearly missing words and checking the date it was published, things clicked. I wrote the post drunk and quite possibly blacked-out (well I guess definitely blacked out if I don’t remember writing it).
My initial reaction was to delete or edit the post, but I’ve decided not to. What’s the point? Avoiding embarrassment? I think it’s a little late to protect my pride. I’m actually sort of amazed in a disgusted way that I was able to write a (somewhat) cohesive post while barely conscious.
Anyways, my relapse did not end until 4 days later when I was finally dragged to detox. Thank God for my “dragger”. Left to my own devices, I honestly wouldn’t have been able to get to the facility. Burgeoning withdrawal symptoms had me practically unable to move.
Let me explain.
Nowadays after I drink a certain amount, I no longer get a “normal” hangover (you know, the whole, feeling-like-shit-for-half-a-day experience that can be shaked-off with sleep and Ibuprofen). Instead, once my BAC (blood alcohol content) starts going down, my body immediately goes into withdrawal.
When I got to the detox facility, I assumed my BAC was at 0% due to how awful I felt. Contrary to my expectations, the breathalyzer had me at a staggering 0.24% (for reference, that is three times the legal driving limit of 0.08%). This was after having slept 8 hours. I don’t even want to imagine what my BAC was the previous night.
Side note: Did you know that the highest BAC recorded for an American was a 1.33%?! The 24 year old UCLA student was even able to check herself into a hospital and remained alert… An alcoholic’s tolerance is insane – doctors basically consider anything above a 0.4% certain death. A common thing you’ll hear in AA is “I should be dead” and that is no exaggeration.
Explaining withdrawal to someone who hasn’t gone through it is tough. The best way I’ve heard it described is that your body is telling you (screaming at you really) that you will die without alcohol. Rationally you know this probably isn’t the case (although you can die from alcohol withdrawal ), but the physical and mental discomfort is so extreme that you’ll do anything for it to stop.
The physical symptoms I’ve experienced are weakness, shaking, nausea, sweating, simultaneously feeling overheated and freezing (like a fever), and just a general feeling of wanting to crawl out of your skin like a molting snake. Most people also vomit and have terrible diarrhea but I guess I have a strong stomach.
The mental discomfort is arguably worse. Anxiety levels shoot through the roof (adding to the feeling of certain death). Depending on how much damage you caused by drinking, withdrawal morphs you into a guilt-ridden & highly depressed shell of a human.
I tried for days in a row to stop drinking on my own during this latest major relapse, but I have a liquor store attached to my building. During each attempt, I would reach a point of distress high enough that I’d convince myself a pint of vodka was necessary to get me through the day, and that somehow I’d wake up feeling better the following morning. Yes I KNOW this makes no sense, but like I said, in this state your body thinks it needs alcohol to survive.
It probably goes without saying, but my week (and some change) of drinking was not pretty or fun. Day 1 of my relapse happened while I was working at Fat Petes. A coworker suggested we get tipsy, and although I knew it was a terrible idea I agreed.
Ok fine, that day was kind of fun. It didn’t last though – flash forward one week and I’m back at Fat Petes with withdrawal symptoms kicking in hard. During my walk to FP I seriously considered checking myself into an ER, but I figured I could get through my shift and deal with my sh*t later. I told that same coworker (who I had drank with the previous week) what was going on, and she suggested we drink a little again so that I wouldn’t be feeling like death during my shift. Again, I agreed. This time there was no hesitation.
Another terrible decision on my part. I ended up blacking out, and woke up at 4am fully dressed in my work clothes. Somehow I had fallen asleep with both my legs hanging off the bed, so when I woke up I was unable to move them without excruciating pain, and had to drag myself to a normal position. I had no idea what had happened, but I assumed the worst. Did I quit on the spot and walk out? Did I steal money from the register? Did I throw up on a customer? Were my legs broken?!
Thankfully, my legs are fine and I was able to see my manager a few days later. I thought he was going to cuss me out but he only expressed concern, and even told me I still had a job if I wanted it (thanks, but no thanks). The worst thing I did was steal his food and eat it in one of the bathrooms (highly embarrassing, unhygienic and fatty of me but not terrible). Apparently I insisted on finishing my shift, but my manager had me walked home instead (bless his heart).
This was Saturday, and I didn’t get into detox until Tuesday morning. Sunday-Tuesday I drank even more than the previous days. I switched from buying pints of hard liquor to fifths (750ml). The day before detox I finished an entire bottle of vodka on my own.
So yea, not pretty or fun.
For those of you who are wondering, the detox process basically involves a medical team monitoring your blood pressure (which can skyrocket during withdrawal), and any other withdrawal symptoms you are experiencing (shaking, sweating, etc). Benzodiazepines (think valium or librium) and anti-seizure medications are given to offset the anxiety and overall discomfort. Oh and to make sure you won’t seize and die.
Since then, things have shaped up. I started a new job, and I am so grateful to have a normal 9 to 5 routine again. Although I was worried some issues would come up during my background check, by some miracle everything went smoothly. I’ve been there two weeks now — already longer than I stayed at my last “real” job (which I lost after barely a week after relapsing at work). I really don’t want to screw this up. If I do, theres a high likelihood I won’t be able to bounce back again.
Every relapse is an opportunity to learn, including “Disaster at Fat Petes“. Clearly I have trouble refusing alcohol from friends. “Friends” that know I am an alcoholic and convince me to drink nevertheless… No one is forcing me to drink (as in forcibly pouring vodka down my throat), but something keeps drawing me to individuals I subconsciously know are bad news. Sounds like a sneaky form of self destruction.
I think this time was an awakening though. I tried reaching out to my coworker to make sure I hadn’t caused HER any problems, and got no answer. I haven’t heard a single word from her since. And I actually felt guilty about this for a while.
Thankfully one of my real friends (aka someone that would never coerce me to drink because they have my best interest at heart) talked some sense into me. Who cares if she got fired over what happened? She brought vodka into work and knowingly fed an alcohol her kryptonite. It blew my friend’s mind that anyone would do this, not once, but twice.
Anyhow, the moral of the story is that I need to stay vigilant at all times and steer clear of anyone that could influence me to drink. Saying “no” to myself is hard enough as it is.
Oh and also, if you drink frequently and start experiencing frequent “hangovers” that feel particularly awful, consider getting medical help. If someone in your life drinks frequently and shows any sign of withdrawal, get them help. This can be something as seemingly insignificant as being unable to pick up a glass of water without shaking profusely (this time last year, that was me. I assumed medications were the culprit but it was alcohol withdrawal. It took over a week in rehab for my shaking to stop completely).
To end on a positive note, my AA network has been continuing to support me through all my ups and downs, and for this I am grateful beyond words. Although admitting relapse is never easy, I’ve learned that the best way to nip a drinking spree in the bud is to talk about it. The best way to combat any bad habit or unhealthy thought process is to talk about it.
It might sound corny, but the more you talk about your demons the easier it is to face them. Plus, talking to someone about your problems doesn’t only benefit you, it helps the listener as well. After all, it is much easier to open up to someone who has already opened up to you. Don’t underestimate the power of active listening.
Almost Linear 