For the next five years, everything doubled, tripled, quadrupled. Confronted by my family, I was asked to leave my home. That night I wrote my suicide letters to my family. I wanted to die rather than taking another drink. I called a friend thinking to leave a message on her machine. I wanted to tell her where my body could be found so I wouldn't lay there alone in death for long.
She was supposed to be gone. She was home and convinced me to go to an AA meeting. There was a turn. For the next six months, I was sober.
However, my mental illness, bi-polar disorder, was slowly emerging after being hidden by alcohol for so long. Long periods of mania occurred. HUGE spending sprees. Deep dark depressions followed. I began to drink again.
The level of drinking was now outstanding. At 5'2, 105 lbs, I was daily drinking 18 to 24 beers a day, and soon that much and a pint of vodka. In no time it was vodka alone. A pint to two pints or more everyday. Beginning from the moment I woke up to late into the evening. I began taking no-doze and ephedrine to stay awake so I could drink MORE, and then handfuls of benedryl to bring me down and help me sleep.
Of course, stealing any pain medication from family if it was around. I was now vomiting 10-12 times a day containing blood. Stings of days with constantly acidic black diarrhea. So much so I soiled myself several time, even in public. I began wearing pad just for this. I was taking 12 to 14 immodium a day, then would have to take a laxative for constipation then the cycle would start again. I still drank daily, planning for days in advance to protect my supply.
In 2005, out of nowhere I woke up in the middle of the night, shaking all over. Strange because I never had hangovers anymore or shook. My entire body was vibrating and my instinct had me down six beers in 20 minutes. All was well.
Woke Up Shaking
Three days later, alone at home, I again woke up shaking; feeling awful, but there was nothing in the house. I couldn't hold my keys to drive anywhere; my eyes were vibrating so that my vision was quadrupled. I certainly couldn't call for help, or for my family.My body exploded on and off releasing foul build ups of toxins it could no longer handle. I crawled to the bathroom leaving trails of waste. I could though, barely reach for my computer. I remembered SOS. I had quasi joined them a few years back. Get to SOS I did. I cried out for help. I read my posts from the first week and I barely remember writing them. I was able to down a ton of benedryl, make it to the store and drink to keep my symptoms at bay.
Reaching Up for Air
Soon my withdraw intensified, so much so that my reaching-up-for-air experience was possibly a seizure? A brush with death? I'm not sure. But to this day, it was very real. Women in SOS pleaded, urged, cared and loved. I listened and called for my brother. An emergency room visit, immediate follow up with my personal physician, immediately meeting with my psychiatrist, coming clean with all, with everything.That next day was my first sober day.
I have been sober ever since. I have morphed into a person I never thought I was worthy of being. I've developed a sound, firm base of sobriety utilizing a huge array of tools. I remain closely bonded with the women in my "cyber" group. They are my meetings, my sponsors, my peers and most importantly, my dear friends.
Held My Soul in Care
They may never know the depth of my gratitude. Beyond the core of my very being, I know that they held my soul in care until I could care for it myself.I now, through the group and the birth of this site, feel whole. Full of possibilities. Should I be so honored, I will gladly join in a circle of hands and hearts that offer to hold the soul of another, until she can hold it one her own.
Debbie
Part One: Debbie's Story
