My Life as an Alcoholic: Entry 1
My Very Real Struggle with the Bottle in Journal Form
I've decided to share my very personal struggle with alcoholism and type out excerpts from my sobriety journal for the first time. This will be a multiple-entry project, and is intended in no way, shape or form to glorify a very real and DEADLY affliction that, unfortunately, afflicts millions of lives on a daily basis. I'm hoping maybe my story will act as a stepping stone for a much bigger conversation for any fellow alcoholics out there. You are not alone in your struggles. I'm two years and six months sober and have moments where I question my will and strength. But I choose to not drink every single day because I know even one sip will send me right back to where I was before, and that thought frightens me more than anything else. This is my story. My name is Henry. I'm 26 years old and am a recovering alcoholic.
February 11, 2016
13 hours sober (10:30 AM)
Feeling okay. I miss Tony. Hoping the Pedialyte will help settle my stomach.
20 hours sober (3:30 PM)
Hanging in there. Praying and pleading to God to give me the strength to do it, and do it right this time.
February 12, 2016
35 hours sober (8:30 AM)
Fuck the cold sweats.
37 hours sober (10:30 AM)
At Regional Medical Center. I was given Valium. This can't happen anymore. I'm scared.
38 hours sober (not "sober" but not drunk)
Still at Regional. Waiting for Tony. The Valium helped. Reading my list of safe coping skills my therapist gave me. It helps. I intend to live by it.
42 hours sober
Home with Tony watching SpongeBob Square Pants. I'm happy.
February 14, 2016
Three days sober. Feeling 95 percent back to normal. Just looked at the damage in the wall I caused when I punched it during my drunken stupor. All I can say is... FUCK MY LIFE. On the bright side, I'm sober.
February 14, 2016 (later)
Feeling like things are looking up. I have much to be thankful for, being alive for one, having a roof over my head, food to gorge myself upon, but most importantly I have my will to live back. I feel like I can carry on and that no matter what may or may not happen, I am loved, and that can never be taken away—not even by the evils of alcohol. I love my future husband, Antonio, and my family. I am real.
February 16, 2016
Tell me about your picture-perfect life. I'm tired.
February 16, 2016 (later)
Feeling better than I have in days. Hoping beyond hope to find a job soon to pay my Mom back and have a little cash in my pocket. I miss Tony so much. It's warm out today. Oddly warm.
February 17, 2016
Six days sober as of today. I had a pretty decent session with my therapist. We even went to the library. I've been doing some serious thinking and have so many things to figure out before our next session. Let's see where the day goes. Feeling very optimistic about the future.
February 19, 2016
Didn't write yesterday. I wasn't in the mood. Hoping today is different. My relationship with Tony feels different and I'm not liking it. It leaves me feeling sad and alone. Watching Enter The Void. I can feel the void.
"Nothing but sleazy guys and drunken lies." -H.S.
February 20, 2016
Today was disappointing, to say the least. It started out promising enough, with the promise of landing a decent paying job. Something to keep me occupied, something to keep me going... something to keep me sober. But come to find out, a drunken tattoo left me without any job prospects and going home empty and unwanted. But I digress. I have my sobriety and my sanity, that's what counts the most. Tomorrow will be better.
"Unkept paces and misguided faces." -H.S.
February 21, 2016
Feeling pretty good this evening, I must say! Did 14 laps this morning at the park and I'm feeling more and more like myself! I'm going to focus on losing some weight and maintaining my sobriety. 10 days clear minded and I'm so thankful! It's so cold out right now!
"Worn outlines and withered ties." -H.S.
"My life has been nothing but faded connections and static. No real substance underneath." -H.S.
February 22, 2016
I'm so exhausted. I ended up watching a three-hour film and it drained me big time. I haven't invested so much of myself into a film in such a long time and it felt so surreal. Overall, I'm happy and content, my live enzymes are still high but they're slowly going down. My fitness goals seem so close I can almost taste them! I will not be discouraged! Tomorrow will be even better.
"The void seemed never-ending and dark, but all I can see is you." H.S.
About the Creator
Henry Sheperd
Born and raised here in the Bay Area. 30. Artist. Cat Daddy. Button King.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.