My Name is Alycia, and I am a Recovering Alcoholic.
(Or, depending on your viewpoint, a Recovered Alcoholic.)
No, I am not an obnoxious drunk.
No, I am not a physically violent person.
No, I am not untrustworthy.
No, I am not dangerous, nor do I need to be treated as such.
I am a 23 year old woman who has acknowledged that alcohol has taken control over a part of my life that otherwise feels too large- too overwhelming- too painful.
My first drink wasn't until the age of 18 when my then-Best Friend, Nadia, gave me a drink of her Peach Schnaps. I thought it was the most disgusting thing I'd ever put in my mouth. I can't remember the first time I was intoxicated... the only thing I remember with absolute clarity is that it felt amazing. My constantly worried self was now a care-free, liberated girl with ambition and freedom from my over-worked mind.
I felt invincible.
I started as a Social Drinker. I would have a glass of wine at dinner with family, or have a few shots with friends at The Cosmo. I was more social, less self-conscious and quite frankly, more extroverted- and I liked that. Scratch that- I LOVED it. The false confidence it gave me- the courage to talk to strangers, to make friends, to dance in public, to kiss a boy... was addictive.
I was a Social Drinker for many years, and I'm not sure that I can pinpoint a pivotal moment in which I changed from a Social Drinker to a Dependent Drinker; And that is probably the most concerning part of alcohol consumption. The blurry line between "safe" and "sorry".
I can say with a great degree of confidence that there is no magical line, but that it's a continuum, and that we are all subject to this continuum between black and white.
The terrifying part of alcoholism to me, is the euphoria I felt when I drank.
I felt like I could actually do this (life).
That I could cope with whatever life threw at me, because I could drink until I cared less, drink until I didn't care at all, and then drink myself into oblivion, where pain and heartache no longer existed. Nothing existed there. It was peaceful. It was nothing.
And "nothing" was FAR better than pain.
As my mental health worsened, and I spiraled into one of the worst Depressions of my life, I began to manipulate my alcohol use. I researched which drugs *not* to mix with alcohol with the intention of passing out for days at a time. I purposefully mixed benzodiazepines and opiates with liquor in hopes to permanently damage my vital organs, and was rushed to the ER on many occasions.
And, eventually, I used liquor in the calculated equation to take try and take my life in 2015.
My use with alcohol controlled far more than my anxiety. I allowed it to control my life. I allowed it to consume my every move, my every feeling, my every reaction. Still to this day, I struggle with whether alcohol is my friend, or my enemy because at various times, it has served both roles.
It has played fundamental roles in my deteriorated mental health, and it has played fundamental roles in my recovery.
The greatest thing I continue to learn, however, is that our relationship and viewpoints on alcoholism are skewed.
The user is not the enemy, just as alcohol is not innately evil.
And yet we hear the term "alcoholic" and make a judgement call about that person's accountability, capability and character.
So, allow me to take a moment to clear up a few misconceptions....
Yes, I am a 23 year old recovering alcoholic.
Yes, I am a capable, committed, compassionate individual.
Yes, I am an ambitious young woman with goals and values.
Yes, I am a "safe" and gentle person.
Yes, I will have slip-ups and make mistakes now and then, and;
Yes, I am worthy of being treated with love and respect and value.
Let's #DitchTheStigma surrounding Addiction and Mental Health.
Leave a little kindness wherever you go,
Alycia
#AlyciaFYL
