CONFESSION- And With That, I Put The Bottle Down.

Two weeks ago, I made a decision, a decision that today, took effect. This choice will now alter my very existence.

My first blog, Story 1- My most recent, alcohol-related fuckup, shared the last time I went out. That night, like many other of my nights out, ended with me blacking out and not remembering a dam thing that went on. I woke to hear all about how I was extremely annoying, rude and destructive things I had done. Yey for me, right. It was at the very moment, listening to those horror stories that I realised, I couldn’t continue to drink that way I have been for the last fifteen years (I started young), and I had to make a serious change.

Iv always drunk, all of my nights out have involved drinking. I have had the best times and the worst times drinking. The ‘best times’ or nights out are when I can wake up and remember the night before. For me, It means I have been in control all night and managed to stay sober enough to make smart choices and have fun. The worst nights are those that I can not remember, and I’m sorry to say these happen more than I would to admit. I have never gotten myself into a dangerous or compromising position during my blackout sessions, but I know that I get messy, embarrassing and say and do dumb ass shit. I understand we all have nights out like this, but mine seems to happen too frequently.

Drinking for me has never been a ‘hey, let’s get one drink then head home’. I seem to have one sip of a drink and frenzy takes over. That first drink I can feel that little devel, that party girl I tuck away, come out. One sip and she’s right there, taking control and put me in a first-class seat on the party express. My weapon of choice, a whiskey soda, I can drink this until the sun comes up or until I pass out. As much as I try, I have no control over how much I drink; I keep going and going and going until I can’t stand up anymore.

Now in the thirties, the punishment after drinking is getting worse and worse. I remember people saying to me ‘you won’t be able to drink like that and get away with it forever, wait till your thirty’. Oh, sweet lord, could they have been any more right. Hangovers now last days, it’s almost a week before I feel back to normal. Once I’m feeling tip-top again, I’m back out on another binge session, until now.

Today I saw someone to help me make a change, a change that will help me with my relationship with alcohol and set me into a healthier future.

Today, I saw a hypnotist.

I was not sure what to expect today, nor was I aware the experience was going to be so confronting and emotional. During the consultation, the hypnotist asked a series of questions. The questions she asked made me so aware of how my relationship with drinking all started, how long I’ve been developing the bond for and why I choose to drink the way I do.

Here is what I realised and disclosed to the hypnotist.

I had my first sip of alcohol at ten years old. It was bourbon and coke and was given to me by my stepdad. I was regularly allowed to sip his drinks and or finish off the last bit in his glass. My relationship with alcohol started here; I had witnessed that drinking often and in large quantities was an ordinary act. I carried this thought process into my teenage rebellion years, where I stole alcohol to drink with my friends on the weekends. Even in my mid teens, I drank until I spewed or blacked out. My drinking took to another level when I started to travel. In my early twenties, I was drinking six nights a week, late twenties not so often, but the amount never changed. It was always to the point of no awareness.

Relaying all this information to the hypnotists was overwhelming as it was clear my relationship with alcohol was never a healthy one. I knew right then and there that I had made the best life choice going to this appointment. I have spent too many years putting my energy into drinking, and I have no intention to continue this destructive cycle in the future.

After the session, I left, got in my car and drove home. On the drive home, I felt an overwhelming rush of emotions and tears began to run down my face. I’m not sure if it was the thought that iv started to close the door on a massive part of my life or the fact that I had to sit and confront an inner demon. Either way, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks.

I have another session next week and between now and then I have one assignment, have a drink and see how you feel. If I’m satisfied at one, we are on the right track.

Keep your fingers crossed for me; I’m hoping this is my new healthy relationship with alcohol.

This apology is to myself and my friends-
I’m that my drinking has never been managed or consumed in a controlled manner. I am sorry that I always took things too far. I’m sorry for all the drunk shit that iv done, and the friend’s iv embarrassed along the way. I’m sorry to my body; I can’t imagine how much damage I did over the years. I’m sorry to my friends, the ones that had to look after me on nights out when I took that messy turn and blacked out.

I apologise.