- Alcohol
- Mental Health
The first time I ever got “drunk” I knew I found an addiction to live by. I fell in love with the taste, the high, endless feelings of confidence, assertiveness, toughness, and most of all, free. It only made matters worse when alcohol was my best friend, my love and my everything.
Back in high school, I wasn’t always a drinker; I was involved with my talents of dance and getting good grades. When I went out with my friends, we occasionally drank to party on the weekends, but I could go without drinking or partying for months and be completely okay with being sober and continuing my life with my passions; dance, family and friends.
My senior year of high school is where I turned the corner. I became very depressed within myself while trying to balance school, being a captain of my dance team and, most of all, life. I cared deeply of my looks, appearance, and boys. I lost a large amount of weight throughout the year (in which I was always in great physical shape), and slowly I was deteriorating. The more depressed I became, the more I isolated myself to being alone and sleeping. When my dance season for the last year of high school was over, I was able to “party” now because I was done with dance in where I wouldn’t suffer any consequences if I would happen to get into trouble.
Going away to college was the time of my life; I was free from my parents and had the mindset I could do anything I wanted to do. My love for alcohol would happen a few times a week to “fit” into the college life. I remember my college dorm friends would keep tallies of nights where I threw up, and, soon it became a huge scoreboard but it was acceptable because “everyone else was doing it.” I got a couple minors at parties, passed out at random guys’ dorms and apartments, and grades began to fall, but I didn’t care because I was living the freedom of doing whatever I wanted to it was college!
There were a couple of times where I began noticing something was going on with my love for alcohol during college. I drank so much that I ended waking up in a hospital and wearing a gown, later being told my blood alcohol level was a .333. My parents were notified, and were sick straight. But, then again, my attitude was in an “I don’t care, it happens” mode. As college went on, so did my drinking, but never even thought I would or could become alcoholic.
I graduated in December of 2007 with an Interior Design degree. I moved in with my parents while searching for employment with my passion for design. Unfortunately, as time went on, I couldn’t find a job because of the economy crash. I slowly began to sink into depression and never thought I was good enough for anything. You see, I was looking for strength and love from someone special. Throughout my years of adolescence and relationships, I had many boyfriends because I wanted to feel loved. Alcohol was one of my loves, but I wanted to find love in another person.
While growing up, my mom was always the comforter and grace in my family. My dad, on the other hand, he was my financial matters. I always struggled with my self-esteem and confidence, because I never felt good enough or pretty enough. I always put on a happy face no matter where I was, to let everyone know I was a “normal” child. I wanted my dad to tell me he loved me and communicate with me as I saw my friends and their parents would do. When I began to unravel with alcohol and getting into legal trouble, I felt like a disgust to my dad. I never did thought he loved me, and compared myself to my beautiful, successful older sister, and my younger brother (the only boy in the family). My sister never got into any trouble, went to a private college with a business degree, got married right away and began a family, and got the attention of my dad I always wanted. I was jealous and felt rebellious. I went to relationship to relationship with men who I was trying to find love and gratitude for, but I was involved in hurt, emotional and verbal abuse, and painful relationships. I surrounded myself with people who didn’t care about me, only for my looks and body, and my love of alcohol. I chose alcohol friends instead of my best friends from growing up, and most of all, I was isolating myself from my family.
After a long relationship with a guy where I was emotionally and verbally abused, controlled and cheated on, I spiraled out of control with my alcohol decisions. My depression grew rapidly and when I drank, I had to hide my alcohol from my family because they began to notice changes within myself and my obsession with drinking. When I “had” to be around my family with events, trips, holidays, I was restricted from drinking because my family knew what alcohol did to my health and personality, but I felt remorse and cynical and went out of my way to drink. I tried to commit suicide two times because of my drinking and relationships with men. I wanted to know why God put me here, why I keep getting hurt from men, and why my dad wouldn’t love me the way he loved my siblings. Trying to commit suicide was an eye opener to myself and my family and close friends, and knew I needed help.
Throughout my time of drinking, I had 2 DWI’s, one in college which was just a goof up and only got slapped on the wrist, and my second DWI, which was a serious matter. I barely remember driving that night I was pulled over, on my way to see a “friend” an hour away after isolating downstairs with a bottle I stashed in my parents’ basement and drinking secretly while my parents were in bed. I lost my car (that my dad bought for me for high school graduation), lost my license, could face a serious penalty of jail time, and many long hours of community service and fines. My parents were so upset with me, looking at me with horror as they knew I could possibly face jail time for my behavior. I was forced into treatment so my DWI consequences would be less harsh and not go to jail. I went to two treatments, because obviously once I was out, I began to drink again and my parents would kick me out. But, I tried to show them with a happy and serious face I would go back to treatment – not only to let them know maybe I have an addiction, but to get them off my back.
As the days went by, I kept drinking, wasting my life away. I remember my mom would bring me to an 12-step meeting since I didn’t have a car, but only after her dropping me off I would walk to a liquor store and buy a bottle and save it for later, as well taking sips throughout my meeting. I was unemployed, still living with my parents, and isolating myself from everyone. I often rode my bike, when both of my parents were gone during the day, to the liquor store with money that I took from my mom, and buying bottles and bags of wine and hiding them in in storage rooms, my room and hiding the evidence in the woods. I kept thinking to myself, “how exhausting this is,” but it was my lifestyle. I hung out with people I hardly knew, just so I could go out and drink. I was a walking tornado and was mentally and physically sick, but this was my life and the only thing that was important was how to get my next bottle and when I could do it.
When I tried to commit suicide for the second time I was placed in a psychiatric ward for four days. I thought this would be the turning point, seeing the kinds of people in the looney bin house, but that didn’t even stop me. Staff members would come up to me asking me why I was in a facility for the mentally ill and telling me how I do not belong there; I was a beautiful woman with personality and talents that were wasting away because of my addiction. I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to drink again.
I ended up having to do community service time for 30 days for part of my consequence of my second DWI. I was often hung over every morning or even still drunk while I had to attend the services. It was time for me to have a job so my parents would get off my back, and applied a nearby gym, so I could walk back and forth since I still didn’t have a license. I was able to get hired at the gym, work a few days a week and earn money, in which I could support my addiction. There were days I would be drinking while I was working, especially going on promoting sales events, etc… However, there was one day where I was talking to a fellow co-worker and told me how he was a recovering alcoholic and shared his story. I listened to him as he told me what had happened and his story, and he later told me a wonderful man wanted to meet me. I was a little skeptical at first because of all the bad luck I’ve had with men, but I trusted this coworker of mine.
Neil, was his name, and we became inseparable the day we met. I found out he never drank in his life, and lives sober every day. I was thinking to myself, why on earth should I date him and what fun is that since he doesn’t drink? On our dates, he had to come to my parents’ house because of my living situation, but he didn’t mind at all. I saw him when I was sober, and built a relationship without any alcohol involved, however, when I wasn’t with him I would drink by myself. He and I fell in love with each other that not many people have. I saw that he loved me for me, not for my looks or my body, and didn’t judge me for my past. I would tell him about my past struggles with alcohol but denied any addiction. When we would go out for dinner, I would have a couple of drinks, and he began to see a pattern of self-destruction. There were a handful times where he noticed what happened to me when I drank, and how ugly it was. We later agreed that I shouldn’t be drinking and that I had a problem, but still, I drank secretly alone when I wasn’t with him. Our relationship grew to be very serious, became the love of my life, but felt as if I was cheating on him with my love for alcohol. There was a couple of serious times where he would drive me back from his house to my parents because I was drunk, being told by his friends that I wasn’t any good for him, but he stuck by me. He would tell everyone that they don’t see what he sees, that when I’m drinking, I’m someone else than when I’m sober. There was finally someone who loved me for me, who believed in me, thought I was beautiful inside and out, and wanted to show me what life could be without alcohol.
August, 2011 is when I went to into treatment. I spent 28 days in the program and finally admitted not only to my family and friends that I’m an alcoholic, but to myself. I knew this was God giving me strength that it was going to be okay. After a relapse after I was home for a few weeks, I went to an extended care for 60 days at a woman’s home. Those last couple weeks leading up to my check in for my treatment I indulged myself into drinking profusely and not caring for anyone but myself. I kept it secret, but of course I was caught and looked down upon. I knew I needed to change, but I didn’t know if was strong enough or if I could do it.
The time I had at my extended care, I learned so much about myself being sober. It was the hardest 60 days of my life, but completely worth it in the end. I found myself again, my beauty, my talents and my strengths that I forgot that I had. Neil stood by me throughout the whole entire time, but not physically there because he wanted me to do it for myself. He didn’t visit me, nor anyone else but my mom. There was a point where my sister didn’t want me around or around her children because of my addiction. I knew that there was hope for me to get through this and live in recovery.
To this day, I have been in recovery for almost 2.5 years. Neil and I are getting married this August 2nd, and the love I have for life is unbelievable. I have love for my family and friends that I used to have when I was younger, but even stronger. My dad loves me and tells me all the time, and supports my decisions about life. My mom is my rock, and is my biggest cheerleader. My sister, who’s my best friend now, tells me I’m such a great role model to her kids. Neil, is my soul-mate, my future husband, and who I call hero, but he always reminds me, “No, Rachel, you are your own hero.”
Throughout this new journey of sobriety, such good has come into my life. God put me on this path for a reason. It’s been very hard financially, but it’s life. We all go through time in our life where it gets so hard you just want to give up, but we can’t. I see myself as a strong, independent, smart and beautiful woman. I am even going back to school to pursue a new passion I have for Nursing. My goal is to become a Nurse Practitioner focusing on the substance abuse and mental health field. I want to share what I went through, teach others and help others, that there’s hope and strength in addiction. I can only be who I am today, living each day, one day at a time, and love myself for who I have becom