Recently I decided to quit alcohol as a temporary measure. I was becoming dependant on it and decided to fix the situation before it became as bad as it was when I was twelve. It took four years for me to admit that I had a problem and deal with it.
Four years of pouring rum into my cereal before school, hoping my parents didn’t smell it.
Four years of asking shady people on the high street to buy me spirits, never knowing if they would do it, report me or take my money and run.
Four years of hiding bottles at the back of my chest of drawers and sneaking out late at night to dispose of the empties.
I had told myself I would never let myself become what I once was, that I would never go back to my old ways. But I did, only this time I didn’t have to worry about it being noticed at home because I’m living on my own. This time I didn’t have to worry about getting someone else to pay for it because I’m of the legal drinking age. This time I didn’t have to worry about hiding the bottles because nobody would be coming into my room without my prior knowledge. This time there were no restrictions.
I never fully kicked the addiction, just learned to control it to a point where I could go a few weeks without getting hammered. I thought I was past it but once you’ve felt that itch it never really leaves, always lurking in the corners of your mind.
The moment I realised how deep in the bottle I was came a few months ago, I was sitting on the edge of the bed at 7 in the morning getting dressed for a university lecture when I went to reach for a beer and realised that I had drank ten of them in the last hour. My first thought was to buy more, then the cold, harsh reality of the situation kicked in. I could swear to you that I felt like my heart was going to shut down. I was panicking after the glimpse of my former self like a reflection in the mirror that you no longer recognise but you know is what you’ve become.
Despite my best efforts to remain sober and the support offered by those around me it is not an easy thing to overcome. Sometimes it gets the better of me and when that happens there is nothing that can stop me from getting a drink.
My friends have offered to not drink when I’m around, but that would only give me incentive to start drinking again as I wouldn’t want to prevent others from drinking if they wish to. I refuse to allow my addiction to affect the decisions of those around me, this has to come from within otherwise I will never break free of this ailment that plagues me