I have been drinking for a long time. I believe I learned to drink by my parents example, and I became an alcoholic due to bad genetics, and a lot of alcohol. A lot of relatives with alcoholism, and parents who loved to get smashed every night. Not a fabulous combo for learning normal drinking behavior.
I remember the first time I got really shitfaced. I was a freshman in college. My brother went to the same school, he was a sophomore. He came by my dorm one evening with a bottle of tequila, a shot glass, some limes and a salt shaker He told me he had found a new, cool drink.
Shots of tequila!! How fun, how new, oh my god, how drunk!! I don’t know how much of the bottle we drank, but I was beyond shitfaced, I was in full blackout. I was told that we went to a party, and I proceeded to do a striptease in the middle of the dance floor. Apparently I was hot. The tequila had made my clothes come off.
I don’t remember that, or any of the rest of the evening.
I do remember the hang over. It was brutal, it was physically painful. It ruined the next day, and a few after that as well.
I had great plans that day too. It was Spring Concert at our college, and the Allman Brothers Band were the headliners of a full day of music and bands. Most of the student body turned out for Spring Concert, it was a big deal. People brought blankets and had picnics. Everyone had a great time.
Everyone but me. All I could do was lie on the blanket, curled in the fetal position, aching from head to toe from the worst hang over of my short life.
I was 18 years old when I did that to myself. I can’t even begin to count how many hang overs I have had in the 34 years since that one. What I can say is that drinking heavily the night before a big event seemed to be a pattern.
I have gone to many parties, meetings, and road races severely hung over.
One of the insane aspects of my drinking was this absurd pattern of heavy indulgence the night before a big day. I used to say to myself, as I poured my first glass of the evening, “I hope I don’t drink too much tonight, I don’t want to feel hung over tomorrow.”
That is thought process is demented. Ostensibly, the lunatics who were running the asylum in my mind were the ones pouring the drinks also. I clearly had no control over it.
In the clearness of sobriety, I have come to realize I really didn’t have any control over it. I lost control as soon as the alcohol hit my brain, the only thought I had after that was MORE.
When I decided to quit drinking, and told my husband, the first thing he said to me was, “I don’t like to think that you are an alcoholic.” I said, I’m not, I just drink to much, sometimes. (READ: daily)
On my 94th day of sobriety, I sat at an AA meeting, and did something I never thought I would have the guts to do. As I began to tell my story, I said, “I am Laura, and I am an alcoholic.”