|
When withdrawal becomes not just a way of life, but decorates your clearest of moments, you see the world through an anxiety riddled mindset. I spent almost 20 years boozing, but "only" 10 of them boozing hard. My former weekly planner:
Friday: F*ck everything. I'm young. Bukowski, Hemingway, and me. It takes someone who is made of stronger stuff like us to be able to function after a half a bottle of whiskey. Wife, don't you dare try to warn me. I'm absolutely slaying people at my local and you are just jealous of the audience that I've got. Things are accelerating, the bottle is getting emptier and the night getting wonkier, but I'm accustomed to riding this rocket. I've got ahold of the reigns.
Saturday: No idea how I got here. My breath and sweat reek of formaldehyde and I'm freezing cold. Why? The bed is soaking wet, but it's not that bad... I've pissed more than this. This should dry no problem. She's on the couch, and will be furious when she wakes up, so for now I'll just keep quiet and enjoy the last remnants of alcohol in my bloodstream. When it's all gone it'll be rough.
Now I desperately need to go to work. A conversation is inevitable and apologies will have to be made, but the more time allotted for that scolding, the worse the consequences. If I can keep it to a half hour, today should be fine, but if I let the wheels turn much longer than that, the consequences will start to pile up. From no drinking tonight, to no drinking this week, to the nuclear "AA or divorce" conversation that takes up to a month to recover from. So quickly it's a furtive whiskey into the coffee just to level out, or maybe some gatorade powder dissolved in vodka, and off to the lab.
Work is mostly wasted time on the computer with more drinks piled on. If I am going to get anything done, I'll need at least 3 or 5 cocktails to feel good enough. I need to be careful tonight. When I piss myself two nights in a row, making excuses gets really difficult, so it'll be just two bottles of wine, but I'll make it look like one.
Sunday: I feel unsettlingly normal, but I've been here enough times to know that this is just the eye of the storm. Only a couple of daytime cocktails to help me be productive. I have work tomorrow and there is no way I'll be able to sleep on my own, so when evening comes it's only one bottle of wine and a handful of benadryl.
Monday: My head is starting to get clear for the first time since Thursday, but my hands shake and I'm sweating in the air conditioned lab. My co-workers know, plus they hate me, plus they are trying to destroy me. My headphones will keep me in a cocoon today and I'll just try to be scarce because even my best friends say I'm a tremendous c*nt early in the week. Maybe only a handful of benadryl tonight and no alcohol at all, because I've gotta clear my head.
Tuesday: Feeling better today. Tuesdays are generally productive. Hands are still shaking, and I can't stop thinking about the end of the world. I'll go do some yoga tonight, and the sickly sweet smell of ketones in my sweat will be my self-purification. Tonight I'll have a bottle of wine to celebrate being able to moderate.
Wednesday: Feeling pretty great indeed. I'm just a moderate drinker, and there's nothing wrong with that. Life is meant to be lived. Maybe I'll have only a half a bottle tonight.
Thursday: Another decently productive day. Yoga tonight. I can moderate without even trying obviously. Two bottles of wine as a treat for handling my sh*t this week, plus a Friday hangover isn't the end of the world. Tomorrow I can sneak in to the bar at lunch time and even if I have to go back to work, I can be back in the bar by 4:30.
Wash, rinse, repeat. Even as the anxiety worsened, the productive period shortened, and the Mon-Thur sweats and shakes got more noticeable, the ONLY thing I couldn't deny, The ONE deal breaker for me was pissing myself. I'm a grown man. My wife put plastic on the mattress and how could I argue? She suggested adult diapers more than once, and I had no real way to say no other than to just go silent. My family and friends found out because, of course vacations are a time to celebrate. But who has to do the linens every day other than a bed-wetter? But, thank god, because it was the pissing that finally pushed me to find naltrexone.
NTX is quite simply put, a game-changer.
Mar 29 was my first dose. I still am not cured. I am still a boozer. I still get hung over at times. But since Mar 29 (127 days now!), I have:
Day drank away 0 hangovers. Gradually widened my weekly productivity span from 3 to 6 days. Increased my weekly number of days exercising from 2 to 3. Fought with my wife exactly 2 times (neither time alcohol related!) Changed my Saturday wake-up time from 1pm to 10am Pissed my bed exactly 0 times.
I read these stories of people being cured on here. I applaud you and I hope to stand with you on that side of the fence some day, but if it never happens? NTX has, as it stands now, allowed me to pull myself out of a ten year clear brown fog. I want to thank everyone that has posted here for your testimonials. I was VERY skeptical, and without these stories, I never would have made that initial order.
_________________ Former out of control, literally fall-down and piss-yourself Black Label fiend. First dose of Nal 3/29/2012. Transformation became undeniable on 5/18/2013. The bottle used to scream my name, but now it has shut up.
|