I Found Drinking And Lost Myself

Alcohol broke me. It took me from being the proud person I once was to being to a sleazy asshole.
Flickr David Goehring
Flickr David Goehring

I’m only 20 years old. I grew up with the best manners a parent could instill and morals that mirrored my innocence.

But somehow once I got out on my own, things began to go downhill. Was the independence too much for me to handle, or were college’s social pressures too strong for my submissive personality? What I’ve learned now is that alcohol broke me. It took me from being the proud person I once was to being to a sleazy asshole. I would do anything to have that purity and innocence back.

The first time I drank at school a girl threatened to cut my dick off. It was a bad night that included me locking myself in a room because she was literally trying to attack me. My night ended with McDonald’s and vomit.

The next morning I felt horrible. It was my third day of classes and I already had to email professors complaining about a “stomach bug.”

My remainder of the year consisted of blacking out every other weekend. I would wake up in strangers’ beds and not be able to find my things. It was a rough year.

By the end of my freshman year I had mellowed out my behaviors, or so it seemed. On my final Saturday I ended up falling and splitting my chin open on a tile floor. It took a three-hour hospital visit to stitch my face up to realize that I was starting to get out of control.

The summer break was a much-needed escape from classes, but that didn’t mean the drinking and partying had to cease. I think my parents had hoped that if I were at home then they wouldn’t have to worry as much. I ended up drinking 4 out of 7 days that summer, which meant my weight was spiking. I ended that summer twenty pounds heavier and feel insecure about myself going into my sophomore year, but my weight gain was the least of my sophomore year.

Today—as I sit here typing—marks my one-year anniversary of getting a ticket for public drunkenness. It fell on the first weekend of Welcome Week at school. My chin had healed and I was ready to go out, thinking I was indestructible. I packed a flask in my pocket and headed out ready to enjoy myself, but my night ended with a Breathalyzer test and flashing lights. As I walked home a cop saw the flask in my pocket and pulled his car over to question me. It was one of my most embarrassing moments. When I told my parents the next day, hearing the disappointment in their voices was heartbreaking.

Over the course of my sophomore year I ruined multiple friendships, lost my virginity, became known as someone people didn’t want to associate with, and had love interests tell me people had told them to “stay away” from me. I became a leper to my peers.

Here I sit going into my junior year and I’m over it. I’m tired of feeling sick and immobile after nights of drinking. I don’t want to ruin my life. There are ways for me to feel better about myself, and alcohol is not the answer. It’s the only friend I should part with. And with that…

Dear Alcohol,

You’ve been fun. WE were fun. However, I was blind to our toxic relationship. All you ever gave me were things to worry about and lose sleep over. My life was fine without you and it will be fine without you again. I can’t say I won’t miss the nights we had—not all were bad, but there were enough that left me feeling like I wanted to die. My future is too important to me; maybe someday we’ll have a relationship that is civil, but until then please be kind. Don’t take away from anyone else what you’ve taken from me. TC mark

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