A Little Backstory

Without giving it all away, I'd love to tell you my backstory and how my drinking evolved into a nasty little habit.

I live in Michigan and you may have heard that we do one thing right, make beer. While the winter keeps us cold and depressed IPAs and breakfast stouts keep us warm and drunk most nights. I kid, not everyone here likes IPAs, we also have an entire coast dedicated to wine making, a mini wine country if you will.

But that's not where it started.

Tequila Rose liqueur was the first alcohol I ever got my hands on, I was 12. While I didn't get drunk on it, it definitely lit up my little rebellious heart and made me feel warm and fuzzy. I would've had more but my friend assured me she would get caught if I had more than a few sips. The next time I would encounter alcohol I was 14 years old, at some rando trailer, getting absolutely obliterated by vodka. We've all been there right??? No details but I definitely did things that still make me cringe. The next day I woke up so fucking hung over, I literally wanted to die. My mind was made up, alcohol was shit and I was NEVER DRINKING AGAIN. The end.

Just kidding!

I went on to lust after that beautiful elixir that magically fixed all my problems within a few sips for 18 more years.

I hid myself in fancy beer culture, went wine tasting, acted like the more expensive the alcohol the less likely I had a problem right? In my early 20s I clung to the college party crowd. Yes, I was that wasted girl who didn't go to your college but some how ended up at your dorm party. It was essential for me to be a chameleon so I could fit any scene where alcohol was the main event.

Years later, when it wasn't so cute to be the party lush (it was never cute) I started to turn inward with my drinking. The hard worker grind type where I put in a good days work and hit the beer or wine maybe a bit harder than the others. Or maybe way harder, I didn't have anyone to compare to, I was on my couch. My hangovers were just a continuous lifestyle. I had a great routine going. Wake up 3am full of anxiety and regret, douse myself with water, back to bed, wake up feeling like death, coffee coffee coffee, good healthy breakfast, good healthy lunch (look at me! I'm so put together!), 11am finally feeling human, 12pm self declaration "I will not drink today!", 2pm thoughts "a beer does sound good though", 4pm thoughts "I don't really drink that much, honestly". 5pm thoughts "I'll just have one or two", 11pm and 8 drinks in thought "OMG this quesadilla is pure gold". And the cycle continues...

I figured I would just cruise into my sunset years living like that. Then something started to happen that I didn't plan. My body and brain said "girl, we have had enough of this!". I always managed to get my workouts in, get up for work, do my daily tasks to a certain level of satisfaction. Sure, I had highs and lows but they didn't put me out in too many ways. Yes, there seemed to always be drama in my life, that's just life right?

Then came the bigger, scarier signs that maybe drinking 6-12 drinks a night wasn't such a good idea.

- Nocturnal panic attacks. Heard of them? They are a treat.

- 30lbs in weight gain. Over time but up until that point I had managed my weight fine.

- Borderline high blood pressure. Never in my life, I've always had great BP!

- Manic lows. Suicidal thoughts anyone?

- Missing work

- Missing events

- Missing life

I had this under control for so long, what the hell was going on?! As it turns out the longer you drink and the more you drink the more addicted you become and the less manageable your life becomes. Time after time I would try to to stop, moderate, scale back, manage, and it would always get right back to where I was when I was at my worst.

Finally, I had had enough! What did I do? I asked for help. It took all of me, it wasn't easy. I also would like to stress I had the right people in my life at the right time. I've questioned my drinking, asked others if they thought I had a problem only to be met with "Jen, you're fine, stop being so dramatic." |Just a side note here, if someone comes to you asking you for help and the words "dramatic" come out of your mouth, please don't do that.| This time though I wasn't going to back down until someone outside of myself helped me. I could not do this on my own, it was bigger than me. I wanted to be healthy, I wanted to be there for people, and I realized what I had in my tool belt was a broken hammer. The only form of expression I knew was destruction. It was time to get creative.

You might be wondering what help looked like. Well, for me it was telling my husband how serious my problem was becoming. How I had been contemplating suicide and my drinking was out of control (I mean, he knew that part) but that I didn't know what to do to stop. I went in for a full psych evaluation (out patient) and then I booked myself with a Cognitive Behavioral Therapist who specialized in addiction recovery every week for an entire year. Lastly, I held myself accountable, a little bit of tough love because I wanted it so badly. Everything around me had to meet me half way in my recovery or it had to go.

This is just a glimpse into my story. The reasons why I drank weren't discussed in here but we'll get to that someday if I'm comfortable. I hope you found this enjoyable to read and could relate to some parts.

Everyone's story is different, everyone's journey in recovery is like a thumbprint and looks nothing like the other. That doesn't discredit anyone's suffering or pain. You are made to do tough things and I believe that you can. Keep moving forward in your journey.

Best, Jen