Tonight a friend asked me to help them quit drinking.
Of course, as a good friend, I obliged.
Little did I know that would be a bigger undertaking than I imagined.
About an hour after her last drink, and a half hour after we had the conversation where she asked me to help her, we had a "fight". That fight included me throwing her onto the couch (numerous times) where we live to keep her from going into the kitchen to find where I hid the alcohol.
I didn't let myself see, up until now, that she is an alcoholic.
I chose to ignore the signs of her alcoholism. She loved to drink. At one point in time, she even skateboarded from our apartment to the nearest liquor store (a skate a judge to be about an hour to fourty five minutes long) to buy a bottle of booze. About a week after she started living with me, the other people we live with noticed she drank way too much. I still chose to ignore it.
I know she has problems. I know she's depressed. I know, like I have known, that she wanted to end her life. I chose to ignore her alcoholism because I wanted her to work out her problems for herself. Like most alcoholics, drinking only makes her problems worse. Still, I wanted her to find her own path.
She ended up living with me out of need and my want to help a hurt friend. We live with my boyfriend, his younger brother (who is 14), and their mother.
The reason we live together now is, in itself, a reason for both of us to quit drinking.
And this is something I've only admitted to you, my reader. No one else has heard me say this, because I haven't been able to bring myself to say or write it.
About a month ago, the friend who I speak of and myself were arrested. We were out for a drive to kill time until we had to pick my boyfriend up from work. There are other reasons why we went for a drive, but those reasons will remain unsaid for the safety of myself as well as hers. Moving on ... While we were on the drive she pulled out a fifth of some horrible cheap vodka that she could afford and along our roughly hour long drive, we both took a couple swigs from said vodka. My swigs were much less than hers, even though she was driving. At some point, we pulled over because her knee hurt (I'd like to think it was because she was too drunk to drive and didn't want to admit it) and she wanted to switch drivers. Please keep in mind that my license was suspended at this point in time. I knew this, and chose to drive anyway.
A person driving who doesn't have their license anymore is better than a person driving who is drunk, right?
No sooner had we switched drivers and I was about to pull back onto the road, a cop flashed his blues and pulled up behind us.
Needless to say, the cop smelt alcohol and asked me to step out of the vehicle. I passed my field sobriety test but was arrested anyway because I was "operating a motor vehicle" with out a license. She was put into protective custody because she blew a .05 and the cops didn't feel she was safe to drive. (duh?)
I don't like to say it, and still don't want to say it, but she's the reason we were arrested. Her and her drinking got us arrested. If her knee didn't "hurt" and we didn't pull over where we were to switch drivers, neither of us would have gotten arrested. If I hadn't been stupid and taken care of my own shit, I wouldn't have been arrested, but that's a different story.
Her drinking had been a catalyst for our problems since we met about four years ago. Like most other people who drink, she feels it's a solution to her problems. She drinks, she doesn't have to think about all the shit that's wrong with her life, therefore, things are better. WRONG.
I've felt that way since I realised she drank too much but didn't have the heart or strength to tell her. Now that she's asked me to help her quit drinking, I've found the strength. She wants me to keep her from drinking? Then goddamnit, I'm going to do everything within my power to keep her from drinking.
After the whole episode of me throwing her onto the couch about six times (not an exaggeration) she went to the bathroom and I decided enough was enough. I dumped out her hidden bottle of shitty rum, took two long last pulls off the ouzo bottle and dumped the rest of that down the drain.
Until my boyfriend or his mother bring alcohol into this house (which probably won't happen now) there is officially no alcohol in the house. This will keep her sober until she tries to do something drastic. She already tried that. Before throwing her back onto the couch, she tried repeatedly to get past me and into the kitchen. I didn't think I was stronger than her until tonight. I had to practicaly carry her back into the living room three times after she tried to get past me to find the hidden booze.
My best friend is an alcoholic.
I'd say I was an alcoholic, but I know I can live without it.
She apparently doesn't think she can.
I used to use alcohol to try to fix my problems. I know it doesn't work. I almost killed myself twice because I thought alcohol was a problem solver. Now that I know it doesn't work, I can give alcohol up without a problem.
Yes, I know I drank from the bottle I planned on dumping down the drain, but that's not because I want to forget about my problems. Okay, that's a lie, I do use alcohol to forget about my problems, I use it as a coping mechanism. However, unlike her, I know that drinking myself into oblivion every night won't make my problems go away. It only makes me forget about them until the next morning. Then I'm hungover and pissed off.
I, unlike her, know when to stop. The time to stop is now. I'm done. I'm not drinking anymore. The only reason why my boyfriend drinks more often than he wants to is because I want him to. The only reason I drink as often as I do is because my friend drinks. The reason why my friend will stop drinking is me. The chain is going to end, and I'm going to stop it.
Now that I've laid most of my problems out on the table, I'm going to smoke a cigarette while I surf the internet, leave my drunk and passed out friend on the couch, and then go upstairs to my boyfriend and let him know why all this craziness is going on.
I hope he understands and wants to help me. I can't keep her sober alone.
Lots of love,
Sara.
Of course, as a good friend, I obliged.
Little did I know that would be a bigger undertaking than I imagined.
About an hour after her last drink, and a half hour after we had the conversation where she asked me to help her, we had a "fight". That fight included me throwing her onto the couch (numerous times) where we live to keep her from going into the kitchen to find where I hid the alcohol.
I didn't let myself see, up until now, that she is an alcoholic.
I chose to ignore the signs of her alcoholism. She loved to drink. At one point in time, she even skateboarded from our apartment to the nearest liquor store (a skate a judge to be about an hour to fourty five minutes long) to buy a bottle of booze. About a week after she started living with me, the other people we live with noticed she drank way too much. I still chose to ignore it.
I know she has problems. I know she's depressed. I know, like I have known, that she wanted to end her life. I chose to ignore her alcoholism because I wanted her to work out her problems for herself. Like most alcoholics, drinking only makes her problems worse. Still, I wanted her to find her own path.
She ended up living with me out of need and my want to help a hurt friend. We live with my boyfriend, his younger brother (who is 14), and their mother.
The reason we live together now is, in itself, a reason for both of us to quit drinking.
And this is something I've only admitted to you, my reader. No one else has heard me say this, because I haven't been able to bring myself to say or write it.
About a month ago, the friend who I speak of and myself were arrested. We were out for a drive to kill time until we had to pick my boyfriend up from work. There are other reasons why we went for a drive, but those reasons will remain unsaid for the safety of myself as well as hers. Moving on ... While we were on the drive she pulled out a fifth of some horrible cheap vodka that she could afford and along our roughly hour long drive, we both took a couple swigs from said vodka. My swigs were much less than hers, even though she was driving. At some point, we pulled over because her knee hurt (I'd like to think it was because she was too drunk to drive and didn't want to admit it) and she wanted to switch drivers. Please keep in mind that my license was suspended at this point in time. I knew this, and chose to drive anyway.
A person driving who doesn't have their license anymore is better than a person driving who is drunk, right?
No sooner had we switched drivers and I was about to pull back onto the road, a cop flashed his blues and pulled up behind us.
Needless to say, the cop smelt alcohol and asked me to step out of the vehicle. I passed my field sobriety test but was arrested anyway because I was "operating a motor vehicle" with out a license. She was put into protective custody because she blew a .05 and the cops didn't feel she was safe to drive. (duh?)
I don't like to say it, and still don't want to say it, but she's the reason we were arrested. Her and her drinking got us arrested. If her knee didn't "hurt" and we didn't pull over where we were to switch drivers, neither of us would have gotten arrested. If I hadn't been stupid and taken care of my own shit, I wouldn't have been arrested, but that's a different story.
Her drinking had been a catalyst for our problems since we met about four years ago. Like most other people who drink, she feels it's a solution to her problems. She drinks, she doesn't have to think about all the shit that's wrong with her life, therefore, things are better. WRONG.
I've felt that way since I realised she drank too much but didn't have the heart or strength to tell her. Now that she's asked me to help her quit drinking, I've found the strength. She wants me to keep her from drinking? Then goddamnit, I'm going to do everything within my power to keep her from drinking.
After the whole episode of me throwing her onto the couch about six times (not an exaggeration) she went to the bathroom and I decided enough was enough. I dumped out her hidden bottle of shitty rum, took two long last pulls off the ouzo bottle and dumped the rest of that down the drain.
Until my boyfriend or his mother bring alcohol into this house (which probably won't happen now) there is officially no alcohol in the house. This will keep her sober until she tries to do something drastic. She already tried that. Before throwing her back onto the couch, she tried repeatedly to get past me and into the kitchen. I didn't think I was stronger than her until tonight. I had to practicaly carry her back into the living room three times after she tried to get past me to find the hidden booze.
My best friend is an alcoholic.
I'd say I was an alcoholic, but I know I can live without it.
She apparently doesn't think she can.
I used to use alcohol to try to fix my problems. I know it doesn't work. I almost killed myself twice because I thought alcohol was a problem solver. Now that I know it doesn't work, I can give alcohol up without a problem.
Yes, I know I drank from the bottle I planned on dumping down the drain, but that's not because I want to forget about my problems. Okay, that's a lie, I do use alcohol to forget about my problems, I use it as a coping mechanism. However, unlike her, I know that drinking myself into oblivion every night won't make my problems go away. It only makes me forget about them until the next morning. Then I'm hungover and pissed off.
I, unlike her, know when to stop. The time to stop is now. I'm done. I'm not drinking anymore. The only reason why my boyfriend drinks more often than he wants to is because I want him to. The only reason I drink as often as I do is because my friend drinks. The reason why my friend will stop drinking is me. The chain is going to end, and I'm going to stop it.
Now that I've laid most of my problems out on the table, I'm going to smoke a cigarette while I surf the internet, leave my drunk and passed out friend on the couch, and then go upstairs to my boyfriend and let him know why all this craziness is going on.
I hope he understands and wants to help me. I can't keep her sober alone.
Lots of love,
Sara.
missmay:
hugs for you to stay strong mama.