Warning: This is going to be a long one.
By the age of 14, I had already dabbled my way into drinking and smoking weed. That followed with ecstasy and adderall. By my junior year, the mixture of all four was a common cocktail for me. I had been to 3 high schools by that time and was just trying to make friends and fit in. I loved being in the middle of the party. I felt “cool” since I was surrounded by all the cool kids. The year before, I had a NYE party filled with drugs and alcohol and I couldn’t even tell you how many people showed up. It proved my point that this was the way to make friends. Each time I moved, I found the party people and did just that. Partied. By the time I graduated high school, I had managed to quit doing ecstasy. A friend of mine, who also partied with it, pretty much told me ” Hey, you are taking it too far. You should stop.” He had pointed out how bad it had become for me and how skinny I was now. Once graduation was over, I was gone. I moved away as fast as I could. Running from my problems was a thing I was to do for years after this.
I moved around from city to city. I started out with my shit together, but soon after falling in love with the party life, I no longer did. Getting into details of my drunken shenanigans would turn this post into probably 5 more. So I will just sum it up for you the best I can…
Houston, back to Fort Worth, back to Houston, back to Fort Worth. This time while there I went to College Station as much as I could and partied there with my best friend to get away. I moved around a lot while I was in Fort Worth, never really having a place of my own. I worked and partied downtown. My mom ran a few bed and breakfast in the Stockyards so that became the place I worked and partied at. After getting my medical assistants certification, I stupidly moved to Florida for a boy. During this time of my partying, I never really had much of a relationship. I had my first love throughout high school but soon after we ended. He was in the Army during half of my time in school and we grew apart as we grew, or in my case didn’t grow up. I stayed in Florida for 8 or so months until I came to my senses. The “relationship” I was in was no relationship and I needed to get out. Embarrassed to go back home, I moved to Austin where my best friend was living. She got me a job with her at a strip club as a cocktail waitress and the partying increased and intensified. I wasted the next couple of year doing coke and drinking. My best friend and I ended up having a falling out and I moved back home.
Late 2011, I met a guy and soon into our relationship I found out I was pregnant. I was thrilled, he was not. I ended up having a miscarriage at 16 weeks in January 2012. At this point in my life is where I believe my partying turned into coping. I could be wrong but I am on the path of uncovering all the issues pushed deep down that I have been so unwilling to deal with. The following year, my grandfather passed away. On the night he passed away I got my first DWI. To be honest, I was surprised I hadn’t been pulled over, arrested or even hurt someone from all the nights I thought I was fine to drive home. Just like most, that didn’t change anything for me. I still drank the same.
Then the worst news. March 13, 2014 I found out my older brother, my bubba, committed suicide. It was the worst day of my life. I had lost a sibling before, but never to suicide. Why? Why did he do this? So many questions went through my head. I didn’t understand. I knew he was having problems but I didn’t think it was that bad. See, my brother, a former Marine, suffered from PTSD and was an alcoholic. Things had gotten so bad, that he felt this was the way. I hated that and at the time I didn’t understand any of it.
You would have thought, due to his alcoholism, it would have woken me up. And, it did, for all of about a week. Once the emotions of losing him really hit, I lost it. Alcohol became my best friend. I became a functioning alcoholic.
I have been lucky enough to have Chris there for me, because without him I might not have been able to start this journey. It amazes me how fast I was able to lose myself. We get so caught up in finding out who we are and trying to fit in, that we end up losing focus. Through out this next year of my sobriety, I will be experiencing a lot of Firsts. I will spend my first Thanksgiving (the last day I saw my bubba) sober, I will face my emotions of losing him for the first time sober, I will spend the anniversary of his death sober for the first time, along with his birthday. As scared as I am to confront those feelings, I am excited to learn more about myself and see how strong I truly am and can be.