In the Spring of 2011 I was 23 and had just left a tumultuous relationship that was full of infidelity. After 4 years, I waited out my lease only to pack up and move back to my Dad’s house with my sisters.
My house was always a fun party. One we would drink all night, have bonfires, vodka slushies on tap, beer funnels, golf carts, and a swimming pool with the loudest music on the block and all the NOPI cars parked down my street. Damn “race kids” pissed my neighbors off with their massive exhausts and bass.
One particular morning, I had woken up and still felt the empty sadness in the pit of my stomach, nothing could numb it. I had no appetite, the exhilaration of the night before was gone and I was downstairs getting orange juice when I noticed we left some bottles out. As I went to put them back in the cabinet I took one look at the clear liquid and remembered how numb I felt the night before.
I stood in my kitchen that morning by myself and chased a shot of Everclear with juice. It was the weekend, I was off work. So I used the excuse, “I could just lay by the pool all day at my house and we drink.” I downed another and called my friends.
That became my very first excuse to drink not only alone but to seek out people to do it with me so I wouldn’t feel so “alone”.
The decision I made that day left me on the wildest ride of my 20’s for the next 6 years. Sure, I had drank before that, but I had a tendency to be prudish when it came to drinking. My Dad used to always joke that I was the, “lamest kid ever” because I SHUT DOWN my very own Graduation/Birthday party in 2006 when I saw my friends drinking while shooting pool in my basement.
That warm Spring Day is the day that Dr. Bob (btw, do you know him? If you do, send me a message) in AA would say that my “allergy to alcohol” came to surface.
That’s not right.
Thanks 23 year old Alyssa, please hold yourself responsible.