How I Felt Last Days of Drinking

How I Felt Last Days of Drinking

How I felt the last days of drinking after 19 years of drinking – 16 of those years were hardcore, and the last four years probably getting drunk twice a day, and I stopped eating. 

How I Felt Last Days of Drinking

So, the last few weeks of drinking, I basically had no friends. I had one guy who I drank with who was homeless and they called him “animal”. He had greasy hair and he grunted. 

He was pretty much homeless, and that was the only person I could get along with, to drink with, and it was pretty bad. All my old friends were long gone. 

My parents weren’t visiting me anymore. I had beer cans all over my house, and all over in my car. I was drinking and driving. I was a caregiver, so that’s ironic – that I’m trying to care for somebody when I couldn’t even care for myself. 

I worked two days a week, and it was overnight, and I could drink at work. That’s probably why the only reason I kept that job. And it was pretty bad. 

I stopped showering, I stopped clipping my nails and brushing my teeth. 

I just hung out in a quiet dark room, I couldn’t even listen to music anymore, it was just irritating. I had no dopamine left in my brain to feel good about anything. 

I only drink just to feel somewhat normal without feeling the shakes and the withdrawals of coming off of alcohol. 

And I was demoralized. I was getting blacked out every night. I didn’t know what I did past six o’clock in the afternoon. I did not know what I did at night, every single night was a blackout. 

I pissed my bed. I got so drunk that I wet my bed every single night. I didn’t even put the bed sheets on my bed anymore. There was no reason to because I would wet them. 

My place stunk like old beer and old cigarettes. My car stunk like old beer and old cigarettes, and the friends that I used to have would come over and tell me that I was going to die within a year. 

I had no idea what I was doing with my life at that point, it didn’t matter. All I cared about was beer, how much beer did I have in the fridge, that’s all that mattered. Where am I going to get my next beer, how am I gonna get a six pack today. 

Then, since I didn’t have a lot of money, I stopped eating, because I didn’t want to ruin my buzz. I didn’t want to drink, get drunk and then have something to eat, because it would ruin my buzz, so I stopped eating food. 

So now I can’t think, I can’t see clearly, things are fuzzy. It feels like my head is a hot air balloon. And I know I have to eat so I try to eat yogurt and 20 minutes later I vomit it back up. 

I can’t hold down food. I’m literally dying even though I have a huge beer belly and I’m 215 pounds. I am starving to death. My brain is shutting down while I’m standing up. I’m almost falling over, because I’m blacking out while standing up. 

My brain turned off while I was talking to my caregiver replacement. He’s like, are you okay? He’s like, I smell beer on your breath. You can’t do this anymore. 

My parents were worried, and I was crying every other day. I was just depressed. I didn’t know what was wrong. I was so lonely I created imaginary friends. I was hallucinating. I was seeing things. 

I was home alone most of the time, no one came over. If I drove I was drinking and driving. I would get drunk twice a day, when I’d wake up in the morning I would try to have a beer, and I would puke it all over the floor and then I would try to get the second one down. Then I would drink eight more, then pass out by 3pm. 

Then I’d wake up before dinner and do it all over again. I was getting drunk twice a day. I didn’t remember what I did every single night. That was my life for a few months towards the end. 

It doesn’t ever get better. If you’re an alcoholic, it’s going to progress, there’s only three options: death insanity or prison. 

It doesn’t get better if you get sober even for a year or two. I know I did that, I got sober many different times, and I had hundreds of relapses. 

And I never escaped it, until one day I finally hit true bottom and I knew I was done. 

I even had a heart attack when I was 32. I was hung over at a new job. It was the morning after Cinco de Mayo. I had a fifth of tequila with a friend, the friend that said I was going to die in a year. I had a heart attack at work, that was when I was 32. 

This is how drunk I got every night. . .

That didn’t stop me from drinking. I drank more after that. I drank on heart meds after that, my face was white and red. I kept drinking and I had angina, I had this strange pain in my heart. 

I was like I had to keep drinking to thin my blood so I don’t have another heart attack. That was the insanity of my thinking. I have to drink more or I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die if I have withdrawals, so I have to constantly drink. 

I would drink all night. If I woke up trembling at 4am I would open up a beer and have four guzzles of it really fast. You might as well have hooked up an IV to my arm. I was drinking non stop, and I was crying, I was like I don’t know what’s going on, I’m gonna die. 

But I don’t want to stop or I’ll have to face my reality. I’ll have to face myself – been a long time since I faced myself; been a long time since I actually looked people in the eyes with pride and confidence, and had dreams and goals – that I was gonna do something with my life, all those dreams were gone. 

I didn’t do anything. If I died at that moment, I had done nothing but was a self centered drunk. I just took and took and took, and I didn’t care about anyone. If I died, I would have been an absolute waste on humanity. 

So I’ve been sober for over 13 years now. And the reason why I stopped wasn’t because of what I was doing to myself. It was because I felt defenseless and shamed – someone made me feel shameful. They made me feel defenseless. 

I couldn’t defend myself. They came into my house and made fun of me, I couldn’t kick them out. I was trembling and I was in the nude in bed, because that’s how I slept and I couldn’t kick them out of my house. They made fun of me. And then that was it. 

I was like, this is pathetic. I’m done. I walked back home to my place, from that girl’s house. And I was like I have to stop. I nursed the last few beers, and then I was done. 

I slept for a couple days, and then I started to actually eat food. Got my strength back. Got two jobs, and eventually I left that town, because you have to get rid of people, places and things that remind you of drinking. 

You got to get rid of all the triggers. You have to start completely new. Then I started to work out in a gym, and got my strength back – started to get creative again, all my hobbies came back, my gifts came back and they will come back for you as well. You know you want to do something with your life and you can get out of this illusion that you’re only alive to drink. 

It’s a lie, it’s Satan’s lie. Once you come back to sobriety, you’re going to love it. You didn’t like it before, I know, but this time you’re going to look at life with renewed eyes because you have escaped death, and you’re still here for a reason. 

I’m here for a reason, and it’s to talk to you about your gifts and why you’re still here. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart. There’s no other reason why I’m still alive, except to give back, and inspire and help someone save their life. 

So I hope you find this How I Felt Last Days of Drinking valuable, hit the subscribe button. Thanks for watching, and I’m here for you, Leave a comment if you need help, you know, I’m here for the people that are genuinely seeking advice and if you’re sincere about getting help, you know we can do this together. I’m here for you guys.  

Here’s more Resources for Autism Addictions

Sincerely,

Erik C Johnson

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