My Name's Becca, and I'm an Alcoholic.
My whole life had been surrounded by some sort of addiction. I was born in a family with an alcoholic/addict father. I thank god every day I have an amazing mother to overpower the pain I felt growing up without someone I had to call daddy.
He left our family when I was only eight years old, leaving his daughter and son behind because getting drunk and high was more important. I never understood how someone could do that until the day I looked in the mirror and saw myself as him. I became the person I hated so much. This is my story;
I had my first drink at the age of 13. I loved it; everything about it. And at first it was the solution to my depression and anxiety. I felt the most free I have ever felt; Like I was reborn. I found the magic in alcohol just from that first sip. I spent my high school career only caring about when I could drink next.
I was obsessed with that next drink. Nothing else seemed to matter. The partying had gotten me into trouble at home which resulted in four hospitalizations and one arrest. I still didn’t learn my lesson though, I continued to drink. Even after smoking weed laced with PCP and ending up in the hospital, that didn’t stop me.
The insanity of this disease is scary. I had no fear. When I graduated high school is when it started to go downhill. I jumped from relationship to relationship. I needed that validation because I hated myself; everything about myself.
This ended me up in a few very abusive relationships. You know they say “the person you date is the exact reflection of who you are and what you think you deserve.”
My very last relationship was the worst. Drugs, alcohol and fighting consumed the entire thing. I loved him though, even with all the lies, the bruises, the fights, I loved the chaos. The lifestyle I had was nothing but abnormal, but it felt so right.
Having no money due to our addiction, lead to us selling drugs. Whether it were my pills, or being the “middle man” in crack deals. The stress between us got too great and ended our relationship in one last fight. The scars left on my heart hurt more than the bruises he left all over my body.
A quote that best describes this feeling is “it’s like you’re screaming, and no
one can hear, you almost feel ashamed, that someone could be that important, that without them, you feel like nothing, no one will ever understand how much it hurts, you feel hopeless, like nothing can save you, and when it’s over, and it’s gone, you almost wish that you could have all that bad stuff back, so that you could have the good.”
When the relationship was over I went on a two month straight drinking binge. I would do anything for a bottle, whether I had to steal, pawn valuables, or have sex with a guy. I degraded myself just to feel ok, to stop the shaking. Just to hide the pain of what had happened to me.
And every time I degraded myself it was another reason to drink. It was a vicious cycle. I felt trapped, lost, and broken. I’ve hurt a lot of people during those two months. I was walking through hell everyday but I was dragging the people who care right behind me.
I’ve put my mother through unbearable pain. She never knew if she was going to get a phone call saying her only daughter is dead. The sad part of it is that I was praying and praying I would die. I put myself in situations where the possibilities of my life ending were great.
I’ve come to near death experiences more times than I can count. Ranging from alcohol poisoning to drunk driving to getting involved with gang members. I didn’t value life anymore. I felt I had no reason to live. I couldn’t stop drinking on my own, it was nearly impossible. I ended up in two different rehabs from September to December. Relapse is a part of my story.
This disease is very powerful, everyday I’m sober that monster is doing pushups, getting stronger, waiting for me to slip, so it can drag me back to hell. I have 33 days sober today. Today, even though most days are beyond shitty and my emotions drown me, at moments I feel a genuine happiness that can’t be found in a bottle, a pill, or a guy.
I feel grateful that I can look at myself in the mirror and say “I’m not a bad person.” I can’t change my past and no matter how dirty my past is, my future is absolutely spotless. I take it day by day and I do not drink no matter what. Addiction is what I have, NOT WHO I AM.