I am starting to worry if I am posting too much personal information and stories. I am trying to tell my stories without causing future damage to myself. I was mentioning to my mom about having a blog and following other sober blogs. Then I started to get paranoid that she would freak out if she knew of all the stories I posted.
I must remind myself I am doing this for myself. I am going sober for myself. Maybe I need to reveal all to fight my battle. I feel like with each post, I am taking off an item of clothing and about to stand nude in front of a room of strangers. Maybe I need to be vulnerable to wake up.
I was reading my “sober journal” I kept after my second DUI. The first month was so much “I am NEVER drinking again” and listing some consequences of my drinking. That list has increased a lot in 7 years. But after about 45 days, I started to write “maybe I can drink and just not get drunk? Maybe I can still enjoy wine with dinner?”
I KNOW that I can not drink alcohol. I can not moderate my drinking. I need to keep reminding myself of horrible things I did when drunk. I need to be more worried about what will happen to me if I continue drinking than people’s opinion of my past.
I need to be personal. This is my journey.
(After writing that, I got a comment on yesterday’s blog that a reader connects with my stories. I smiled and cried as I read that comment on my phone. Maybe I need to be personal to help others, also.)
Mistake #36- Last year, I had a friend come to visit me. I have known her since my mid-twenties. We used to party a lot and go clubbing. She taught me to wear sequin pants to get attention. I always thought she looked like Christina Ricci. She still does.
A few years ago, she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I never noticed. I always thought she was sweet girl with a bubbly attitude. She told me stories of manic phases with online shopping and depressed phases with bedroom hiding. I did not know how to react because I guess I was uncomfortable with the disease. But she quit drinking due to her medication. She actually said she quit partying. She plays video games for fun. She described herself as a “homebody.” I still wanted to take her out to meet all my friends.
The first night, I took her to dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. I knew she did not make much money at her job so I offered to treat her for the weekend. I even paid for her bus ticket to visit me. Unfortunately, I think that made me think she had to just go along with everything I wanted to do. I invited some of my friends to join us that posted online from a nearby bar. I am not sure if I was trying to show off to my new friends my hot friend or if I was showing off to her “look at all my friends!”
I drank a lot of wine with dinner. My car is a stick shift and she does not know how to drive it. My friends invited us to another bar in another section of town. I was excited to show her that area. I was trying to play “bar tour guide”. To a girl that did not even drink alcohol anymore. I was okay to drive over there. (Not sure if I was legally okay.) We hung out at a few bars there and I think I switched to beers. This place had my favorite IPA (at that time). It was a local brewery so I figured I was trying to help the local economy. My friend kept drinking Cokes.
I wanted to show her one more bar on the way home. It wasn’t too far from my apartment. Maybe a 5 minute drive. It is a dark, dive bar. Actually, a famour strip bar. I told her no one can come to town without checking out that place. I said I would have just one drink and we could leave. But then some college boys started to flirt with us. We thought it was hilarous and I wanted to stick around for this entertainment. They had to be 15 years younger than us. I was glad for the darkness of the place. Last thing I remember is ordering a rum and Coke for me and a plain Coke for her and yelling to the waitress “Make them both a double!”
I woke up the next day in my bed with a hangover. I went out and walked to the store to grab a few things while I let my friend sleep. When I came back, she said “so are you mad about your car?”
My eyes went wide. “What do you mean?”
She asked “oh you haven’t seen it yet?”
I rushed out of my apartment and down to the parking garage. As soon as you open the door, my car is right there. And a big piece was missing off the side door. About 6×4 inch panel was missing. I gasped. She told me that I drove home that night and I was doing fine until I tried to drive around a curve in the garage. I hit the wall. Or actually the concrete pillar. She said I hit it, then backed up, and then hit it again. She said she was so scared.
I walked down the ramp and saw the missing pieces of my car laying there on the ground. I picked them up and went back up to my car. The back passenger door had huge scratches across it. I was so thankful that was the only damage. So thankful I did not hit anything else or anyone.
I decided I would try to fix it myself. I bought glue that is supposed to help fix boats to try to glue back on the piece and car paint to try to cover up the scratches. The glue did not work cause I need to sand down where it came off or something. The paint doesn’t really work cause they don’t make my car color anymore. The pieces are still in the back of my car a year later.
When people ask me what happened, I just say “eh tight parking garages” or “oh small mishap.” No one pushes for more information. That was not the last time I drove after drinking.