@teaandtoastwithmarmite hiya sorry I've been off the radar. I am officially one week sober. I spectacularly fell off the wagon last Friday. I put myself in an incredibly dangerous state.
7 days later I am still covered in bruises. I was shouted at by a pub landlady that I know because I walked from one pub with a drink I'd bought in there, to her pub. I remember crying and apologising profusely. I also remember my so called friends (just people that I see out that like to get as wankered as me) just watching, and no-one asking if I was ok. I decided to walk to my bil's house, didn't even know where it was, climbing over walls into gardens, knocked on a flat door I thought was someone I know, understandably they were furious, I went round the block, tried another door and it was this random same man again! The fucking shame of it. Eventually did find Bil, woke up his house mate who was asleep and shouted at me, again I remember apologising. Bil walked me home (it was about 3am at this point). Many, many blank gaps of memory. Decided to check my phone the next day and there was an Instagram message from someone I barely know, saying I was crying outside her house and she was furious I woke her son up. I haven't turned my phone on since. I haven't left the house and I've been having about three hours broken sleep a night. I don't want to know what else I've done. I had to cancel my smear as I couldn't bare the nurse seeing my cut and bruised legs. I have never, ever been in such a state. I'm absolutely mortified and so, so ashamed. That is not the person I am. I don't want my husband to go out as there are so many blanks, I'm dreading someone saying 'oh god, your wife was such a state, she did this and that' whatever. I've told him everything I remember, he said I'm a dickhead but gave me a hug. He was comforting ME, while looking after our children and having his health problem. I don't deserve him. The next day he came back with a bag of mothers day presents for me, like I fucking deserve it!
What a wake up call. My mum asked if I'd hit rock bottom and I said there's always lower you can go. I even emailed the Samaritans on Sunday (I wasn't going to hurt myself, I wouldn't do that to my family, I just literally didn't know what to do with myself and my panic attacks have been almost constant). I have zero intention of ever drinking again. I'm so angry at myself. I honestly can't believe that it's me writing this.
I'm still on my ass a week later. Every time the house phone rings I've been running away shouting 'I'm not here ', I keep compulsively checking the windows throughout the night, a lot of my OCD symptoms have returned, if the doorbell rings I've literally been jumping out of my seat. I feel very vulnerable.
I'm back on my sober apps, reading quit lit and back to this thread. The only thing I can do is give it my all now, but at the minute the thought of having a drink or being out of control terrifies me. I just still can't believe this happened.