August 30th 2017. 11 days
My last drink was on Friday August 18th 2017. I took a beer passed to me even though I previously stated I didn’t drink so I wasn’t going to have any while my friends’ friend took beer store orders. The time before that was the Monday earlier that week. I got really fucked up and ended up doing something that could’ve been more regrettable than it is. It still seems almost worth it, but that’s now not having lost that friend, and I wonder if what would have happened if I was sober would have felt as good. Regardless… I never considered alcohol as bad of a thing for me as the other drugs…but it doesn’t really matter what it is, If it does what I want even for a moment, I’ll abuse it.
I do not include Marijuana in my personal sobriety. Although I abuse it sometimes, shit’s been hard lately and it isn’t a hindrance to me when I do. Eventually you can only get so high and have to take a break for a couple days, and when I do, I’m not tweaking for a toke, It just allows me to do a bit of a reality check before I start using it to keep my mood balanced again. It suits my lifestyle choice as an artist. I work from home so it never keeps me from succeeding. More often than not, it does the opposite. I have a bowl or two to relax, and end up with more graphite on the page than in my teeth from chewing my pencil. It also helps me sleep better allowing for more focus during the day, and as I do smoke a lot at home, butI don’t need to take a joint with me everywhere I go, or have a toke before leaving the house. It is something I honestly feel like I am choosing to do and could live without. Yes I am self medicating, but just like people who can drink without it affecting their lives to the extent of an alcoholic’s, I feel like this plan is healthy as long as I am stable enough to accept my realities, and stick to the prescription I’ve figured for myself without indulging too often. Do I sound like an addict?
Like I said, I never considered alcohol my problem… but unlike Marijuana, it is my gateway drug to harder things. My last relapse after a month sober was in April. It was the worst so far… One line of that new drug I wanted to try was the best thing I had ever experienced in my life. By the third it ruled and ruined my life while throwing me out of my mind, slamming the door and not letting me back in to know what was happening. I’m still remembering things that I repressed, and still wake up from nightmares crying wondering if they were fiction, or if they were events that happened, or both…. Events that I thought happened but now that I think back those people and things may not have even existed. The ones so far that I know are real are the ones I wish I could believe were in my head.
The worst breakdown I remember, It hadn’t even occurred to me that I hadn’t slept in about a week. I was dazed, confused and apologizing to everyone I passed on the street for the state I was in. I broke down and blacked out and when I woke up I was on the ground in handcuffs and in extreme pain. The handcuffs cutting into my wrists were what brought me to consciousness. My face was in the pavement, I was crying and I could see chunks of my hair on the ground. I wanted to black out again so I kept my eyes shut as the officer was trying to get my name and birthday.. I was so confused and didn’t know why that mattered and said just that, that it didn’t matter, and I was paranoid about them knowing my identity. I just wanted to know what was happening. In the ER, no longer restrained to the bed I heard the officer say that she wasn’t going to press charges. I had tried to take her gun apparently…
I’m too fucking lucky.
All I remember, before waking up on the ground, was that I had just escaped a bad situation… maybe a few days ago.. I couldn’t remember how many nights I was outside alone… eventually I started crying in the middle of the street because I kept getting lost on my way to take a shower at the community centre. The fact of the situation I had just escaped didn’t even register in my brain until a week or so later. Things only got worse after that, So Ive repressed, and re-repressed, and since I had stopped the drugs after about a month and a half of using almost every day, a bit of my sanity began returning as I realized the next situation I had found myself in. It was a decision I regretted but felt obligated to try to deal with. I was living on the streets. I had been coming down for about a week and when I realized what I had done, what had been done too me, and where I put myself with the options I had, I drank myself into oblivion with my new alcoholic friend and ended up in the hospital the next morning. They would have helped me there.. and my logic was all over the place at the time, but I guess I figured I left the shelter for a reason so I didn’t wanna go back. Whatever reason I had was made on meth but that didn’t factor in at the time. I just wanted to get back to my friend.. my new homeless living mate. I ripped out my IV, and left the hospital after a week, and spent the day asking around the homeless nation of Toronto for him. The couple we had gotten drunk with that night said I could find him by the water.. so I stayed with them for the night, and left to look first thing in the morning. I wish I was this loyal to people who deserved it.
I had just quit meth, and now we were living on the beach and drinking… all day.. every day… until his alcohol dependency was so bad that we had to go to a hospital. After that hospital kicked us out he was high as fuck on valum and I was chasing him around Hamilton. The details are too much for right now… by the end of the night we were broke because the idiot gave a random stranger his card with my money on it, coked out, cus apparently that was gonna stop his shaking, even though this alcoholic on valum obviously doesn’t actually care since everyone got a line then it was gone. New friends are easy to make when they have nothing and you have a little bit of powder. It was shitty and I hardly felt anything but I did do coke that day, so that was the last day I did drugs.
Drinking persisted to be a problem. So now, I do need to include it in my plan of sobriety. Maybe I’ll be able to drink socially in the future, with the right people. Right now, nothing is right. With my PTSD being what it has been… and with my liver problems… alcohol is just as dangerous as that damn meth. It’s just different dangers.