Ten days sober

The picture shown to the left is one of my last nights spent at the bar. I took it a little over a week ago. Today is my tenth day mark of sobriety.

So much has happened lately. My sister moved back in a couple days ago. When I found out I became physically exhausted from anger. I slept for 12 hours that night.

I wanted to drink so bad to both extinguish and inflame the anger. I gave my keys to my dad, and played Fallout 4 instead. I invested all my negative emotions into the character I was playing as. It helped, and they say video games turn people into murderers. Well that night it prevented me from becoming one. Not really, but kind of.

If I went to the bar that night I still would’ve been angry. Only I would’ve been angry and drunk. Then I would’ve drove drunk. Then I would’ve felt awful about myself.

This cycle has done nothing for me except continue. Over and over again. I am breaking that cycle each day I’m sober. It’s still hard obviously, and will likely be for years to come. I’m learning to look at alcohol as if it’s Dr. Pepper. My least favorite soda of all time next to root beer. When I see people drinking, when I see giant highway billboards advertising alcohol, when I see delivery trucks with beer parked in grocery store parking lots I try to imagine it’s Dr. Pepper instead. Does that make sense noble blog viewers?

As I’ve previously stated over and over again it’s hard to imagine life without booze, but I can’t handle drinking like I used to. So it’ll make room for me to do other things. Like write. If I had been drinking last night I would’ve drank heavily. I’d still be asleep and I’d wake up feeling like week old dog shit. Instead I woke up early, deposited a check, and came to my favorite hipster coffee shop like an adult. Feels good.

I was 14 when I had my first drink and I loved it. I loved how goofy and carefree it made me feel. I’ve always been a tightly strung and overly serious individual, but that night I felt like an idiot, and for the first time in my life I enjoyed that feeling.

I was drinking with a middle school friend of mine who I still see occasionally. He’s getting married in a couple years. I was shocked when I found that out. In high school he was one of those guys that I didn’t think would make it past 25. He was extremely self destructive and often dabbled in multiple substances. He’s really turned things around though. Found a woman who keeps him in line. I’m proud of him. Anyway I was drinking with him that evening. He had a backpack full of booze that he stole from his parents. It was mostly Raspberry flavored Bacardi and a few Miller Lights I believe. I had around 5 Bacardi’s and not even half a beer. I couldn’t finish it because it tasted awful. So my friend finished it for me. We did cartwheels off my bed and were extremely loud and obnoxious. To this day I’m surprised we didn’t wake my parents up.

At one point my friend spilled beer on the carpet and began freaking out about it. In my drunken state I ran upstairs and grabbed a wet rag and windex of all things. My genius thought was that the smell of windex would cover up the smell of beer. It didn’t. My room just smelled like windex and beer the rest of the night. During another part of the evening my friend was in the bathroom and my bladder was about to explode. I have a microscopic bladder in general, but when I drink I basically have no bladder. I didn’t want to go to the upstairs bathroom in fear of waking my parental units up. So I pissed in the kitchen sink. He still makes fun of me for that to this day, but I didn’t piss my pants like so many other occasions while drunk so to this day I don’t regret it.

That’s right folks. During the roughly two or three month period that I was completely out of control with drinking there were times when I wouldn’t make it to a restroom in time. It was always while driving between places I’d drink. I was driving home from the bar once and I knew deep down that I wasn’t going to make it home in time. I was screaming at myself while driving drunk: “Don’t piss yourself you fucking pussy.” I put an old sweatshirt from the backseat under my ass just in case which I believe was making the best out of a horrible situation. Right as I rolled up to my house that’s when my bladder burst, and I sat there. Hating myself. When I walked into my house I lied to one of my roommates and told her I spilled coffee on myself. Not my most shining moment. Then I changed my pants and walked to the nearest bar with the stench of piss still lingering. In my drunken and self hate filled state I believed that if I was going to act like a drunk I might as well smell like it as well.

I went through situations like that on a daily basis and still ignored the fact that I have a problem. Life was hell because I made it that way, and I knew it deep down. I wanted to torture myself because multiple things in my life were beyond my control. Life will always be that way though. There will always be more things out of my control, but now I’m gaining control over myself. I feel content and strong. My name is Ryan Hessel, and I’m an alcoholic.