Alcohol to hide the hurt

Alcohol became my "normal" in life. I would spend every week-end partying and getting high. The "special cigarettes" I would sometimes smoke became a nice way to keep my buzz when my part-time waitress job failed to give me the funds to afford my first love of alcohol. It didn't help that I had fallen into a crowd that were older than I and could sit around and drink and smoke all day if they felt. The week-end partying started to turn into week-day partying. I started skipping school to party instead. Why would I want to go to school and deal with the pressures of trying to fit in,the harsh words of teen-age bullying and drama when I could feel comfortable getting drunk and fitting in with others who where just like me? It wasn't long and I was called into the principals office on one of the days I actually attended school. I was scolded for missing so many days of school and then given a choice...to either drop out of school with "dignity" or be expelled. Drop out with dignity???? Now I look back at those words and think to myself what a stupid thing to say. Dropping out of school is not dignified. But at the time I was given this choice the answer was not hard. I said a big "F-U" to that school and headed straight for a bottle. I didn't care. That's what I told myself. Drinking helped me not care, but deep down inside I did care. It hurt to admit that I screwed up. Drinking became my self-defense to all these painful emotions that I didn't want to feel. You can't hurt me....I'm DRUNK and I DON'T CARE became my motto.

It only took one sip....

I can remember it like it was yesterday. I can barely remember my childhood but I can definitely remember my first drink. I was 14 years old, hiding in bushes, running through dark alleys, hiding behind abandoned buildings, anywhere we could go where we wouldn't get caught while we chugged back the bottles of wine coolers that some older guy we knew bought for us. It was exciting and invigorating being "bad" and getting away with it. Little did I know that this single night of excitement with this sweet tasting liquid that made me feel dizzy and gave me the giggles would be the beginning of a love affair that I would later come to regret ever knowing. This was my introduction to my addiction that was yet to come full force in my later years.
Most everyone has done it in their teens and early twenty's. You know...the days of bringing 4 coolers camping to May Long, filled to the top with beer except for one small corner that was saved for a package of wieners and buns. The teen dances where as long as you plastered on the eyeliner and teased your hair high enough you could pass for being old enough that they'd sell you tickets for drinks. The partying became my life, a way to fit in, something to pass the time and I was good at it. Growing up I didn't think I was good at anything or that I really ever fit in but when I drank that all changed. This was my comfort zone. This was something I was "good" at. While all the other girls at the party we're sipping on their second girly drink, I was pounding back shots of Tequila, downing my 12 beer and throwing out the one-liners like nobody's business. I was the star of the party, the center of attention and this is what I was craving so badly. I was "home".

Introduction

This is my story through the ups and downs on my road to recovery from Alcohol addiction. This blog is meant to give others an insight on my daily struggles as well as help others who struggle to see they are not alone. I'm right there with them. Please feel free to share. Enjoy! :)