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[the-sober-story-so-far]

Day 9

So far so good, Oh and i forgot to mention a very proud thing for Day 8! I drove at night! By myself! With no panic attacks! That was such a proud moment,

Today is going good so far, I’m sure I’m going to do an edit later to update but i feel happy and I got a lot accomplished on my to-do list that I’ve put off for months so I am feeling a lot of pride and accomplishment today. However, i just don’t think I am comfortable to join A.A is that wrong?

[the-sober-story-so-far]

Day 8

 Today was my first day without Matt home and I was a bit nervous but was still not having insane anxiety attacks which was completely relieving living here with my grandparents i’m always afraid of an emergency i’ve been involved in quite a few and have had to constantly reinforce boundaries to my grandfather about please not involving me in them. However i got to sit and talk to my grandmothers nurse Mrs. D who is a very, very good friend of mine and has been so supportive in my journey she eased my mind and told me that now my grandfather finally understands how much stress he was putting me under and how difficult it was for me and that he won’t be involving me. She also told me though how he was so upset and almost cried to her about me, when i had told him it broke his heart. He said “She knew better, she knew better and i know she’s smarter than that. All i want is for her to get better” and it hurt my heart a bit. Well actually a lot, I had also gotten really depressed yesterday because he was talking to a new hospice nurse about all of his other grandchildren and how successful they were and I hadn’t heard him mention me at all. I wondered, is he embarassed of me? Is there nothing to be proud of? Is he ashamed. I’m 30 years old, a recovering addict, I have no career, I live with my parents I mean am I an embarassment or maybe am i just over reading into this? Regardless i slept through the night again and made it through another day.

[the-sober-story-so-far]

Day 7

 A week sober!!!!!!! This was a big day for me, I felt so much joy and so much pride in how far I had gotten, we celebrated with a hike to my favorite place up on this cliff overlooking a valley in Maryland. It was exhausting but fantastic and meditative to be in nature and have that energy. My appetite was good that day, my cravings weren’t too bad and I had felt a lot of pride, I did get a little irritated in the evening because I wanted something to eat but didn’t want to cook but i’m pretty sure that’s me being a brat lol.

[the-sober-story-so-far]

Day 6

There’s nothing too climatic here other than some cravings and sleeping pretty much the entire day. 

[the-sober-story-so-far]

Day 5

 So today was both good and bad. Black friday was usually the day I would go out with my grandmother at 3 am to get our little free snow globes from JCP I know that sounds so stupid, but it was tradition so I felt depressed. But, I was also happy because later in the day I ventured out on the own and was able to buy my son christmas gifts and had actual money for it vs. the money i’d have been struggling for if I spent it on booze. So I felt both good and bad, It was very complicated.

 That night though I faced a real challenge, My husband and I decided to decorate the house for my grandfather for our last Christmas here and i’m not sure if I had overworked myself on the medicine, or that I was late on my dose or if this was just generally a detox feeling but I had felt like I was going to seize. I had the Aura, I felt like I was going to vomit, I had to sit on the porch on the phone with my mom while my husband sat next to me for 15 minutes until the meds kicked in. Once they did, I was okay but it still bothers me not knowing what truly caused it. Regardless a half good, half bad day.

[the-sober-story-so-far]

Day 4

Thanksgiving! This day was SO hard, this day actually really tested my sobriety. I have avoided being around my grandmother when she ate due to her aspiration risks and my extreme emetophobia but I held it together and even fed her. I took time for self care that day as well, I showered, I did my hair and makeup even though I didn’t feel very beautiful and I made an effort. I was anxious most of the day, this is is our last holiday at my grandparents house before it’s sold so I knew the feelings would be coming.

I remained positive during dinner and even enjoyed my food and my time with my grandmother and family. I tried my hardest to keep it together but then came the time we were cleaning up and all the memories of holidays past flooded back and I began to cry, I walked into the house off of the porch with my mom where I told her I just wanted a drink though I refused to have one because it would never feel the same as it use to. That it hurt to experience these holidays, that it all hurt too much. Even the light on in the dining room triggered me and seeing the place that was once the happiest holiday place on earth now feeling as though a depressing prison I had to make my mom turn the light off and walk me through the room as I cried. I don’t remember much after, I ended up taking my medicine and sleeping through the night again but truly Thanksgiving was a test.

[the-sober-story-so-far]

Day 3

In all honesty I can’t remember this day, I began a different taper of Librium and believe I slept through most of it. 

[the-sober-story-so-far]

Day 2

This was a harder day, I began feeling very anxious and had felt like I was going to have a seizure a couple of times. I think I was honestly just overwhelmed by the panic of the changes and how my environment felt so different after it feeling a certain way for so long. I slept through the night again though and I was amazed, I started coming to the realization that the mix of alcohol with my Seroquel and Lamictal was the problem causing these attacks at night, and the massive panic attacks during the day were indeed me going through daily alcohol withdrawals. I met with my doctor who also shared how proud he was of me, he had been with me from the beginning of this journey just holding out hope that one day this was going to happen. Emotions were flooding in and i was FEELING, I didn’t know I could even do that anymore. There weren’t any major events that day, it’s hard to remember and i’m behind posting these because yet again I was so drugged all I could do was sleep.

[the-sober-story-so-far]

Day 1

 I gotta admit, I was terrified going into day one. But, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Mostly the fact that the hospital had drugged me out of my mind. I was thankful my husband was home for this, mostly I just slept. I got a little food in me that day and just went with the flow I didn’t feel much of seizure activity just a lot of emotions and shame. I felt like a burden to everyone around me, I had to tell my grandfather about the truth that I was an alcoholic and watch his heart break. I had to deal with my dads anger when he saw me. I just felt so overwhelmed and embarassed. My mother was my biggest supporter though, she told me she was so proud and that me pushing through was so strong and that I could do it. She’s really been my rock through it all, ironic enough she has alcohol abuse problems at well but perhaps it finally gave me some perspective of what she struggled with as well. Anyways, this was the first night in MONTHS I had slept through the night and it was amazing, I wasn’t waking up gasping for air, I wasn’t having the panic attacks in my sleep, I wasn’t panicking at all I felt free. I didn’t feel very strong yet, but at least I felt more human than I had in a long time. Nausea hit here and there but all of the medicine really helped me get through.

[the-sober-story-so-far]

The day I knew it was time for detox

So this happened this Saturday November 21, 2020. I had been having these insane panic attacks for weeks which until I began detox didn’t know that it was actual withdrawal and interactions of the 12-16 drinks I was having a day. But I was alone at my parents house while my husband ran to home depot with our son thinking I was just having another one of my panic attacks when the aura I usually get before I had a seizure happened. I’m on anti-seizmatics so thankfully it avoided the grand-mal however, you still get the other side effects. I started shaking violently, i started vomiting, my head hurt and I couldn’t move to get off the couch so I did the only thing I could do was I called my parents crying and screaming in fear telling them to stay on the phone until my husband made it home and if I stopped talking to call an ambulance. We thought it was just me not eating when everyone got there so we got me to eat and the feeling passed. I was having these same feelings at night after I had consumed massive amounts as well.

 Fast forward to Sunday November 22, 2020 at 9 am the feeling returned. the shakes, the aura, the nausea. I knew it was time to go to the hospital, I thought it was cardiac related however my EKG and everything else was fine and that was the moment when the nurses told me they were going to begin administering ativan because I was going through severe alcohol withdrawal. The crazy part was it was even when I had just drank hours and hours before that, even before the hospital I drank one beer thinking it was a hangover. So I sat in the ER waiting room and I sobbed. I had feared this moment for a year, I called my mother and my husband in hysterics apologizing to them about the shame I felt and about the trouble I had caused and told them I was likely being admitted for a 7 day detox and I didn’t know if I could do it. I sat and thought, I had refused the ativan initially because all i was thinking about was well “I can’t have ativan and have drinks tonight” and at that point I knew this was it, I can’t keep doing this to myself I can’t live like this. So I went to the nurses station and said please give me the ativan i would like to start detox. I sobbed, i told them my shame, i told them i don’t know how i let it get so bad. I let everything out, I asked them what it was going to be like and at the moment I made my decision it was time.

 I was taken back to the hospital room and dosed as needed to prevent more seizures and was monitored and treated for symptoms. I was going to be admitted for 7 day observation and to go through the detox there but with Covid it was too much of a risk and they decided to send me home with a Librium taper. I was nervous, I was afraid when i came home and had access to alcohol I would just revert and go back to it. But, finally something inside of me just said no. You’ve made it this fucking far Erin, you’ve done it this far you need to change and give yourself the life you deserve and the life that everyone around you who loves you deserves. So i came home, i threw out all the booze and i got ready for the first 24 hours that i was terrified of. And day 1 will be in my next post. 

[the-sober-story-so-far]

A pre-snippet to the past 10 years

 Hi there, i’ve got quite a few posts to catch up on since i’m on day 3 of sobriety but I feel like any story should start with where I was these past 10 years. I became a mother at 19, happily. My son was planned, I had met the love of my life a bassist in a metal band and fell in love with the lifestyle that came with it.

 When I had first met Matthew I had never partied before, I was in a very abusive relationship before where I wasn’t allowed to experience what most teens did. Parties, drugs,drinking, hell even my proms. So when I met Matt (before i was pregnant keep in mind) I went wild. We would party almost every night, we fell in love fast too. One of those loves that just hit you right in your face like a bullet. We were inseparable and we were both wild as could be. Once we had decided to slow down and stop going out as much we decided we wanted to get married and start a family together no matter how young we knew that regardless it was meant to be. So we were engaged, we were actually trashed when we got engaged it was pretty punk rock if I say so myself. In the middle of an alley in baltimore, he didn’t have a ring and it didn’t matter. We were just jamming to some Coheed and Cambria in my car drinking a 30 pack parked in this alley when he suddenly told me to get out of the car and follow him. At that point he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I thought he was just drunk or joking at first and I remember I kept asking him the next day if he was serious well, obviously it turns out he was. 

 So fast forward a bit, we were engaged and started trying to get pregnant and it took a few months but with luck we ended up pregnant. We decided to get married at the courthouse since we were already on the way to getting married that year anyways. Then we had our beautiful son, I was sober my entire pregnancy. I remember the first week after I had him I got trashed though just to celebrate 9months of pain and hell but at this point i was still a social drinker. The toddler years were happy years, we would only drink on the weekends or here and there when friends would come over. It wasn’t to the point where I had a problem yet. 

 Then he turned 4, and life got really hard. Problems with my family arose, financial problems as well. My mental health declined and i was diagnosed with Bipolar Type 2, as well as OCD, Severe Depressive, Severe Anxiety and Borderline personality Mercurial type. As well as having PTSD from my childhood with my parents. My mom almost passed when I was younger from liver failure. She ended up having a transplant and living. I had an emotionally abusive father, my mother’s mental health was never stable I actually use to remember her waking me up at 4 am and screaming at me as a child for things I had done the day before. I witnessed so many fights and insane moments a child shouldn’t. I then ended up in an abusive relationship from 14-18 with a boy who would hit me, verbally abuse me, gaslight me, manipulate me and then one day eventually sexually assault me in my sleep. The thing about trauma is it always catches up to you.

 And that’s where I think it all started going wrong, it began catching up. I moved out in my first apartment with my husband and my son and finally had freedom. We had lots of parties, I met lots of “friends” who only cared about where the next party was or who had the drugs. I began partying more and more, and made decisions I was not proud of. Including hurting my husband more than I ever could have even fathomed, I don’t like to speak of it. I have faced my guilt about it daily but in short I was unfaithful. Even if it was one time, it was inexcusable. My cousin had moved in with me, and though I love her back in that time she wasn’t the best influence either. She always wanted to party or smoke weed as well. We became partners in crime, we always wanted to get into some chaos and have fun. Then we were forced to move back to my parents all 4 of us this time due to a shooting in my apartment complex where we were no longer safe. It was unbearable living there during that time, before my mom began fixing herself and facing her own demons and dealing with my father and his emotionally abusive ways.

 So we ended up moving to my grandparents, where we were later kicked out of for having people over partying almost every night. At that point I had also assumed I wanted to be polyamorous, which indeed I am not. I am bisexual yes, but the polyamory was just an excuse in my own mind not to work on my own marriage and fix the damage I had unleashed upon it. When we lived at my grandparents was when the peak in my drinking began. I began drinking daily with my cousin starting early in the morning drinking bottles of rum and vodka all day to the point of blacking out, mixing clonopin with it. Smoking spice, smoking weed, just drugs and booze constantly. One night I overdosed and slit my wrists so bad that the scars are still there to this day I am lucky to be alive and you’d have thought that would have been enough to stop me from my path of destruction but it did not.

 I did end up quitting spice, once we were kicked out of my grandparents I saved money at my job and we rented a place with my cousin and a “friend”, the drinking only got worse there. More parties, more drugs. I started dabbling with Molly and Adderall while i was there and almost ecstasy. My mental health declined so bad due to being worried about a relationship with a girl I thought I loved and spending my money on substance that we lost our house after I lost my job.

 I moved back home again with my parents, just my husband, my son and myself and the drinking continued then for a few months it was daily drinking until one day I did finally get sober and quit drinking, months later I started to become incredibly sick and was still sober but thought I had cancer from how violently ill I was but I was too afraid to go to a doctor for it, instead in my fucked up mind I decided to attempt suicide twice. I lost many friends along this journey from the choices I made, and from who I was. I felt that being sick was my penance for being such a piece of shit for so long.

 Months passed after this, I was sick for at least 9 more months vomiting at least 9 times daily sometimes more. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t shit and I knew something was wrong but I had doctors who didn’t care to find out, who brushed it off as IBS because I was “young and healthy”. 9 months they let it go, it turned out to be my appendix and a dead bowel. The day my appendix ruptured sepsis poured into my abdomen and i was dying, I was actually dying like I had wished for all those years and then it was in that moment that I knew I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live, I wanted to fight. I had my surgery and had 3 months of severe complications including seizures, fluid ruptures and a massive hole left in my abdomen from those fluid ruptures. September of that same year my intestine popped up below the surface of my skin and I had to have my first hernia surgery, it was successful until November of last year when it tore open and I had my final one. During the process I was foolish enough to keep the same doctors, to be dismissed over and over until the first hernia surgery when I had finally had enough and found doctors who actually cared. However, now I have severe PTSD with practitioners not to mention a nurse  who physically and sexually assaulted me and a doctor who possibly did while I was under anesthesia. This is getting back to the trauma creeping up on you, it all has a purpose.

 So, I went through severe anxiety, and experienced what real PTSD was. I was still sober until one night my husband and his friends and myself were all hanging out in the garage and they said have a beer you’ll be fine and that was when it all started again.

I used to look forward to every Friday and Saturday just wanting to get drunk to feel something, all the while i was still using marijuana daily as well. Well, maybe not to feel something i’d say more to feel nothing. And then it went from 6 drinks to 12 drinks, from Saturdays and Sundays to every day of the week. From 6 packs daily to 12 packs daily. From 12 packs daily to 15 drinks daily, from 15 to 18 and so on. This was a year ago i relapsed and this is my first 3 days sober since it all happened.

 This is to document my journey, this is to look back and feel pride in how far i’ve come and this is so that I know I can do anything and how much I refuse to go backwards. If you’re reading this, i hope if you are in a place where I was it gives you strength, I hope you never feel alone. 

 Welcome to my sobriety diaries.