- By girly-d
- On 21/11/2018
- 1 comments
My friend Nathan knows me pretty well - We spend a lot of time together. A lot more time than we used to actually, now that I'm sober and capable of stringing more than just the odd sentence together.
Tonight we are talking about my drinking days. I don't really want to have this conversation but it's Nath and he was worried for a while and so I know that I should.
I take a sip of my drink, grit my teeth and prepare myself for a bumpy ride...
It starts off relatively ok. With a story of us going out for dinner and me trying to eat my peas....not as straightforward as it sounds apparantly. It took me a long time to line them all up. I couldn't get them onto my fork....so Nathan gave me a spoon. To make them easier to scoop off the plate. That didn't work either. My elbow slipped off the table, and both the peas and the spoon ended up on the floor....which I apparantly thought was hilarious....much to the disgust of the elderly couple sitting across from us on the next table.
So that one was fine. No biggie. Just a few peas.
And then he went on to describe my appearance back then....."Grey," "Ashen," "Skeletal" were just a few of the words he used. I was "straight up and down" no breasts. No hips. Nothing. I looked like a boy. I've always been a pretty girl. Good figure. Arse like a peach....so that was an ouch.
Then he told me about taking me home. Well, I say home...It wasn't home. It was a sofa bed in an almost abandoned building. On temporary loan. Anyway, apparantly we had a conversation on said sofa...and halfway through I passed out. Completely unconcious. He put me to bed and covered me over - put me in the recovery position... Made sure that I was breathing.
He said that he'd had to leave my door open all night as he couldn't figure out how to lock it properly. That he'd spent the whole night feeling worried sick in case something happened to me. That I'd turn onto my back and choke in my sleep or that someone would break in and i'd be attacked....
I don't remember a thing. Nothing. Nada. I didn't even know until just then that he'd even been to my house....
I'd like to say that that was my first black out Nath was describing, ..but it wasn't.
I had loads.
I smashed up my knee falling down some stairs while absolutely plastered. I don't remember doing it or how I got home. I just did and I woke up and I was.
Another time, another friend apologised for having to leave me "that night" (what night!?) but that he'd walked me home safely and had put me to bed. I smiled and thanked him and tried to look as though I had a clue about what he was talking about....I didn't. Nothing. Complete black hole.
How could I not know any of this??
The scale and frequency of my black-outs had been escalating. To have absolutely no recall of an event or a situation whilst under the influence was terrifying. I have no idea what happened to me on many occasions and I have absolutely no desire to find out. What you don't know can't hurt you and all that jazz.
It was excrutiating listening to Nath describe to me how ill I was at that time. How he could see me disappearing into this massive black hole filled to the brim with alcohol but that he had no idea about what to do about it or how to stop me from killing myself. He just did what Nath does best. He stayed being my mate and he stuck by me. And I love him for that.
If you follow my blogs then you'll know that I no longer drink. And the lengths that I went to in order to kick what turned out to be quite an impressive addiction. It was hard work, but I did it.
I've been sober for exactly 11 months today and with my hand on my heart I can honestly say that I never want to drink again. The consequences of mixing me with alcohol just don't bear thinking about.
So now I'm tee-total and because of that, my life is super simple.
I get up and I go to work. I come home and I write.
I cook, I clean and I read. I watch netflix, text and call my friends. I send random snapchats. I do all the stuff that I used to do before....
Well....not all of the stuff.
What I don't do now is make an arse out of myself. I don't wake up with black eyes or bruises or fractures. Or in strange beds.... or in my own bed even; just with no recollection of getting home and actually getting in it....
But best of all, apart from that one off chat with Nath last week, I don't have to sit and listen to anyone telling me about "what i did last night" from this point on. Because I know. I was there. And this time I remember....