Well I believe that being openly and absolutely fearlessly honest can be a very healthy thing sometimes.
As you already know, my name is Jamie, I am 32 and I am an alcoholic and an addict. Trying out something to keep me on track. I figure if I post on this every day I'll have even more incentive not to slip up.
A bit of my not so illustrious history... My drug and alcohol use did not start until I was almost 18. I was known as a goody goody nerd at my school. Nobody knew the seething ball of rage and resentment I was on the inside. So much rage, and no one had any idea. So one day I said the hell with it, within 2 hours I had taken my first drink and smoked my first joint. I only drank one more time in high school, but smoked pot as often as I could. I loved the dullness that would wash over me. Then came the tipping point, I moved to Muncie.
I was thrust in the middle of the college scene, but with a difference, I didn't have classes. I could stay out as late as I wanted w/ no consequences. I started going to 3-4 kegs and/ or hairy buffalos a week. All of the sudden I was surrounded by people who "liked" me and guys were paying attention to me for the first time in my life. I won't go into too much detail but suffice it to say it led to some VERY irresponsable behavior and I'm lucky to be alive today.
I got introduced to the punk scene and for the first time in my life I found a home. These people were rejects and misfits just like myself. Before you knew it my venue had changed but not much else. I was sneaking Jager and Aftershock into The Flying Tomato and Stevie Ray's. I would have overage guys buy me drinks at Bogart's and The Emerson. Life continued.
Then things went from bad to worse, I discovered acid through my first love. Our favorite date activity was to split a 10 strip and run around like idiots all night, then come down over coffee at Sunshine. Really compared to drinking it seems less harmful to me even now. We probably ate about 200 hits between us during our relationship. Then the hammer came down and he dumped me.
That was my first rock bottom. I started as I call it "drinking my face off." I started cutting myself and calling him 20 times a day. I am so ashamed of that stalker behavior now, but I was literally insane at that point. I stopped going to work, lost my apartment, and ended up sleeping on people's couches. After I had worn out my welcome everywhere I was literally on the streets of Muncie until I got double pneumonia. I called my mom crying my eyes out and she agreed to let me come home. Thus began my first (but short lived) period of sobriety. I am exhausted from remembering all this so I will continue tomorrow. Sad part is, this only takes me to age 19 1/2. EEEK! Thanks for listening. I love you all and praise God for giving me strength!