November 18, 2013 will go down in my life as probably the most significant day of my life. November 18, 2013 is my sobriety date. I've had the urge to get a tattoo for a long time, but haven't felt like I had anything that was important enough to me to have tattooed on my body. That is until now. Whether or not it will be written out or in 11/18/13 form is still up in the air, but I will have that somewhere on my body one of these days in the near future. I'm so excited.
I don't think I have told the story of how November 18 came to be my first day of sobriety. I mean, it definitely wasn't planned out that way, but the events that took place the couple of days before then certainly helped with my decision. So, I will tell you the story of the day before day 1, as I like to call it.
Before that though, here is a little update from my last post. Billy and I have decided that our friendship means more then to "break-up". The night I wrote that last blog I didn't sleep a wink. All I could think about was how it felt like I had lost a best friend. It didn't feel like how I felt in the past when I've broken up with a boyfriend. I wasn't angry or wanting to punch every man on the earth. I was sad. I felt like I had literally lost my best friend and it didn't feel right. All the things that I listed about him in my last blog I realized are things that you would write about your best friend. So, we spoke. And, it's great. He's amazing, and I can honestly say, is my best friend. Romance? Who knows what the years ahead will bring, but for now, just my best friend in the world.
Ok, so back to the day before day 1. I mean, I knew I had an issue before this day, and I tried stopping a few times, but only made it 4 or 5 days. Without fail I always came back with a vengeance and threw on a bender worse than the time before. Once I made it 13 days and was so proud of myself, but as history usually repeats itself, so did this time. The difference was this time the bender was the worst of all. I had the urine experience, but still, didn't stop that day. It wasn't until a couple weeks later that I had a breaking point.
November 16th. That day Billy and I decided to have some drinks and watch some movies. It was a Saturday night. My nightly ritual was always stopping at the liquor store, but on Fridays I would really stock up because it was the weekend. Weekdays I would grab the pint of Barton's or Popov and down that before bed, but on the weekends I would go all out to make sure I had enough vodka to last me through Sunday. It always gave me anxiety that the liquor store was closed on Sundays. The few times I ran out of vodka on Saturday night and had nothing for Sunday were some of the worst days ever. I used to get the shakes so bad that I thought I was going to have a seizure. There were a few times I would just walk laps around the house or my apartment to try and help. I get anxiety even typing that out. Worst days ever. Anyway, so that weekend when I went shopping for liquor I just remember being broke. I had no money. I went on Saturday and had just enough for a cheap fifth of vodka, but that was all. For me, a fifth wasn't going to come close to cover me for that night and the next day. I left the liquor store and told myself that I was gonna take it easy that night with Billy and not drink much, but obviously that didn't happen. That never happened, nor will it ever, and that's why I am an alcoholic sitting here typing this blog to you. Billy didn't drink very much at all, and he usually brought his own bottle of whiskey with him, so I think in my mind I thought I would be able to make a drink out of his if need be. That night I must have snuck into the kitchen a dozen times for hidden shots of vodka. On one of the last times I went in there I noticed that my bottle was getting low. I started to panic because I didn't know how I was going to have enough for the next day. That's when I had an idea. Billy's fifth of whiskey was still pretty full, so why not hide it? He probably wouldn't notice anyway because he hardly drinks or cares how much is left. So that's what I did, I hid it below the kitchen sink in the cupboard. I made all the rest of his drinks which wasn't much, but I only put a drop of whiskey in them. By the time he left I was wasted. I had finished nearly 90% of my bottle of vodka which is close to 20 shots or something. Who was counting the shots at that point. I have no recollection of going to bed, which happened every weekend. Sunday morning I woke up and immediately thought about that bottle of whiskey under the sink, and also the little amount of vodka I had left. I remember being so sick that morning. I moved to the couch and started watching tv but all I could think of was that bottle. I remember thinking to myself, and I think I even said out loud, "Amelia, get a grip! It's only 10am!" After about 20 minutes of this I got up, went to the kitchen, took them out, and put them on the counter. I think just getting them out and looking at them helped me feel a little better. I poured myself some water and went back to the couch. The temptation I felt in that moment was the worst it ever was. I couldn't even sit there. Finally, I decided to go for a drive. Maybe just getting away from it would help. I drove for like 30 min. I think I went to Draper and back. When I walked back in my front door at about 11:00am it got me. I went to the kitchen, got that bottle of whiskey and guzzled the whole thing. Then, I washed that down with the rest of my vodka. Obviously with that much liquor all at
once I got really drunk really fast. It was then that I started to cry. I sat over the sink and just cried. I
couldn't take it. I had become a slave to alcohol. It was winning and I was not. I knew this was the
facts and it was hard to face. It made me so angry that I continued to let it win. Why?? That's when I got so angry that I took both of those bottles out to my garage and shattered them. I was angry. I was sad. I was ashamed. I had so many emotions, and I was drunk so that didn't help at all. After taking all of that emotion out on those bottles I stumbled to my room and fell over on my bed. I remember just begging whoever it was that I was talking to to help me. I was begging to be released from these handcuffs. That moment was a different kind of low. I can honestly say that I know what being suicidal feels like, and I hope to never visit that place again. Thru the agony I realized I had no more alcohol in my house and that's when I made the choice. I wasn't sure how I was going to do it but I knew I was done. The party is over. I am going to start day 1 of my sobriety, and that day was going to be tomorrow. I had no idea what it would feel like, and I wasn't sure if I would even make it a full day, but I knew I couldn't feel that way anymore. So, November 18, 2013 was day 1. And guess what? I made it. I made it. I made it! And tonight I am celebrating 86 "day 1's". I am feeling life. I am seeing life. I am reinventing myself. It feels amazing. In 4 days I'll be at 90 days sober, and I can tell you that I feel just as grateful for each day as I did waking up on day 2. Thank you to everyone for being so amazing and for the support. I love you all more than ever. I have never been so grateful. God is amazing. God is my saving grace. I love life. Did I really just say that?? :):)
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