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Why Do I Do These Things?- By Sharon
I have no idea why I do
the things that I do. Here I sit my head pounding, my throat sore
from throwing up so much, and tired as hell. Each time I get this
way I tell myself, "This is the last time". No more
drinking. And then something will happen or I'll be somewhere and
I'll say, "One beer won't hurt anyone, will it"? But
it's never one beer, or even 2 or 3. It's usually 10 or 11, or
maybe more.
My story began on October 5, 1993. Before this time the most
drinking I ever did was maybe a little champagne on New Years. I
never knew what it felt like to wait up the next morning, still
drunk from the night before.
October 5, 1993. A day that will live in my heart forever. I
remember being sick that whole week with flu like symptoms. I was
home from work laying on the sofa and outside I hear a car door
slam. Knowing that my husband was out of town I went to the door
to see who it was.
On my doorstep were 3 people. All of them had military uniforms
on and one had a cross on his lapel. Through the screen door they
asked me if I had a son stationed overseas in Japan. I told them
that yes I did. They then came inside the house and then they
said "We're sorry to inform you that your son died last
night".
I remember them asking me if would be OK. I think I said
something like, "Hell No".
They asked me if they could call someone and I told them that my
husband was out of town and since we were new to the area I
didn't know anyone. The next few days were just burred memories.
Papers to sign to have my son brought home, papers to sign to
tell the military where I wanted the body shipped. It was
horrible.
As the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, I found
myself looking for ways to tune out the pain. Pain medicine
didn't work, anti-depressants made me more depressed. Then one
night I was home by myself and I noticed a six pack of beer in
the fridge. The more I drank, the more I realized the pain wasn't
so sharp. From beer, I went to wine, from wine to hard liquor and
now back to beer.
I've tried talking to psychiatrists, going to counseling,
therapists, even priests (although I have to admit, I've never
been a person that goes to church that much) nothing seems to
help.
My husband has threatened to leave me more times than I can count
and my daughter (now 12) thinks I'm a drunk.
I even went to AA twice. It was OK but for some reason I never
went back. I've had 2 DUI's, my license suspended for a year, and
even spent some time in jail.
The really sad thing is that I'm right where I've always wanted
to be, career wise. I have a great job, making very good money,
drive a nice car, own a home. But I'm not happy and I can't seem
to stop drinking.
Oh, I have stopped for a little while. The longest I stayed off
of alcohol was 5 months. Then something made me sad and I went
back to drinking. I know my problem started the day my son died,
but that was almost 6 years ago and I can't keep blaming him for
my weaknesses. I really do want to stop but can't seem to quit.
Last night I went out with some friends. I told myself before I
left that I wouldn't drink. I guess I don't listen to myself that
much. Anyway, like I said here I sit at my desk wondering why the
hell I drank last night. If my son was here today he would tell
me "Mom, I don't even recognize you any more, you've
changed".
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