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Panic attacks, anxiety, drink, sweating, shaking, nervousness, drink, vomiting, paranoia, drink, diarrhoea, arguments, can’t eat, drink, isolation, seizures, drink… etc… etc…

 

That was my life, except it wasn’t a life it was a miserable existence – a living nightmare. And it was real.

 

I had a good job in nursing, wonderful fiancé and a family most were envious of – I can’t pinpoint it but at some time I’d crossed the line and was now dependant on alcohol. It took me a while to realise this although all the signs were flashing for everyone to see. Part of my process was denial, I thought an alcoholic was one of the unfortunate souls that lived on a park bench, glugging cheap cider concealed in a ‘Happy Shopper’ bag. That man/woman wasn’t a happy shopper. They were exactly the same as me. The only difference being that I had the luxury of drinking in my bedroom/lounge. I knew then that alcohol does not discriminate, it picks on ANYONE.

 

I lost my job and almost my family and fiancé. Knowing I had to stop this terrible, destructive behaviour I got an appointment with ADS. After a stint in Wentworth I emerged like a butterfly – a new and improved me. My determination was strong and I vowed that I would never drink again. I know now that ­just not drinking whilst everything else remained the same wasn’t the answer I was looking for. After a couple of months sober I was hit by a major stressful incident so I hit the bottle. Back to square one. My doctor helped me back to sobriety with a home detox. Add some more stress and I had some more cider. Back to square one. My life had become a revolving door of a few months sober – a lot of months drunk, a seizure, sober, drunk, mostly drunk. In January 2007 I was rock bottom again. Even in those dark stupors I knew that I couldn’t physically, mentally and emotionally stay in this nightmare. It was killing me and everyone around me. I was even making my parents ill. I couldn’t take anymore.

 

I made another appointment at ADS. On the day that I had to go, I’d drunk about 5 cans, I’d got up especially early so that I could drink enough to function even though my appointment was early morning, it was such an effort to get out of bed.

 

After seeing Sue I felt relief that these people really understand. It was such hard work to attend the meetings although I knew I would feel like a weight had been lifted afterwards. I was a determined drunk wanting to be sober, yet I’d been here before, what would be so different? I kept a drink and a journal, also an effort. I couldn’t really see the point. Eventually I opened up to Sue and bared my soul to things that happened to make me cross that line to alcoholism, things I hadn’t necessarily understood or perceived. It was difficult to reduce, my tolerance was sky high. I loathed what I had become. I was referred to Wentworth House again and in Summer I was admitted. I was apprehensive yet not scared. As an inpatient I received my liver function tests and they were one of the highest they’d seen for a young woman. I broke down and cried in my room for hours. That kicked me when I was down but brought a stark, shocking truth home, and I was scared of that agonising, premature, painful death that alcohol abuse brings. I’d seen it first hand and I didn’t want to die like my aunty, friends and numerous patients on the wards.

 

After discharge from Wentworth things were different, very different. I resumed my appointments with Sue and gradually pieces of the puzzle started to fit in. I kept the diaries and journal for a good reason. The painful soul baring was the hardest thing I’d ever done and I can see how I had to do it in order to set a good foundation if I wanted sobriety, and I did, more than I’ve ever wanted anything

 

Continual support and help. Had it not been for their dedication I dread to think what could have happened to me. It’s early days in my sobriety but my clarity is that of a priceless diamond. Four and a half months ago I was an incoherent, pitiful wreck – a waste of breath. Or so I thought. Alcohol did that to me and the changes it brings can be so subtle you turn around and your life is literally down the toilet.

 

For years I had barbed wire bound tightly around my heart and it hurt so much, pain I never want to experience again. The wire’s gone and I still have scars but they don’t hurt they’re battle scars, a reminder that alcohol was not my friend but my enemy. It helps me to be extra cautious and vigilant in my recovery, I know just how easy alcohol can sneak up and break you, destroy everything.

 

Thank you ADS for helping me to help myself.