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The Demon Drink
this is all a true account of my last few weeks so im not sure if it fits in here but would like to know if it is written in a form one can understand....by the way i'm only 19 yrs old and have been alcohol dependent since about 13/14 yrs old, but i am breaking the habit today was just a relapse...
I feel so ashamed and so defeated. Doomed in a downward spiral of depression, which I have the power to control, yet the will power in me is too weak and I always let it take control. The demon drink that is, the bottle of mercy, Dutch courage if you must, it beats me every time. I wake up sober and think today will be great but I have nothing to do, im alone I can only read so many books for so many hours before my boredom gets the best of me.
I consider going for a walk but I don’t like outdoors im paranoid of the people they look and they stare and I know what they’re thinking, they don’t like me and think they are of higher class than me, which they are – because I am an addict. So the only walks I take these days are down to the bottle shop 100 metres away from my apartment.
As I walk I feel the most heaviest sense of guilt with a distant sensation of glee, but mainly guilt, its always guilt. And the guilt makes me drink more since once I have started I’ve already reached the point of no return and am now just doing my duty to be in the minority group of people they label alcoholics.
So the walk of shame begins right after I hand the money over to the clerk in exchange for my beer, I walk back to my apartment with the pace of someone who may be on the verge of missing an important appointment, me my appointment is to sit alone and drink, and my haste is to be out of the public eye as quick as possible.
The glee I afore mentioned is still slightly there the guilt is stronger but the glee tells me if I drown my sorrows I will numb the pain and this is the true way to happiness. I know this isn’t true, every doctor whom I have ever spoken to about my troubles has explained the vicious cycle and I never understood it, up until about 2 weeks ago when I abstained from the bottle for 2 weeks (this is my first drink in two weeks). In that time I realized that drinking every night till I blacked out went hand in hand with the anxiety and depression which was the reason I THOUGHT I was drinking in the first place. The last two weeks have been hard, but in some ways easy, I haven’t been hung over everyday, after the first 4 days the physical withdrawal symptoms were gone, and I just had to deal with psychotic mood swings, which half the time were fun, when I was at work I experienced mania and got 10 times more things done then I would have normally and was valued as a better employee by management because of this. Then there were the lows, suicidal thoughts, voices in my head all sorts of psychotic symptoms for which my doctor readily put me on a pill normally used for bi polar - it is still yet to be established if I suffer from this or if these are just my seretonin balancing out from the years of heavy drinking.
After a couple of days the pills worked great, I was happy all the time but I think the real term is ‘manic’ because I was ten times more happy then you have ever been in your life, I felt like I had just smoked ice or was peaking off exctacy most of the time. So the pills took away the depression but left me with the mania, which is where I am at today.
I woke up and started reading for hour and hours shaking anxiously, surfing the net doing everything I could that didn’t involve the paranoia of being around other people. Finally 2 o’clock in the afternoon I cracked and decided to subside this feeling and slightly numb the eradication of my thoughts the only way I knew how – alcohol….
So now im sitting here with empty bottles wanting more but not allowing myself the pleasure of such a sin and asking you of all people, what am I to do?
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