Alcohol made me a danger to society – 7/25/2023 – Life of an Alcoholic

“Don’t move, I already called for help. You’re bleeding a lot.” I heard this but could not see the face of the speaker. The car’s airbag prevented any movement of my head. I was motionless inside the car balanced on a tree. My mouth felt full of stone and I blacked out. Some time later I was lying looking at those unbearably white hospital lights.

That night I had turned in my college thesis. I felt a mixture of sadness and euphoria—a bad combination for my illness. Paulo, my best friend in college, was sitting with me at the bar. He always drank a lot, but stopped (I now know that he is an alcohol abuser, not a sick person.)

We spent some time talking and drinking, but something was very wrong. I didn’t feel comfortable there, that day alcohol didn’t have a calming effect, quite the contrary: it was making me more nervous and distressed. “Paulinho, let’s go, I don’t want to stay here anymore.” I went to get my car.

At that time, police checkpoints were not so frequent (not that this was a problem for me…). I was driving towards my house when Paulo (who often slept there) said to me: “Take me home because today I want to sleep well”. By a miracle I didn’t argue and did what he wanted. Maybe because I was sleepy-tired-sad-euphoric-distressed-anguished. And drunk.

After leaving him, I went, or tried to go, home. As he took that route practically every day, it would be easy to reach the destination. When I entered the neighborhood where I lived, with just over five minutes left to park, I already felt safe. The feeling of almost home made me light a cigarette and turn the music up a bit. Singing, I got distracted and in a careless movement I let the lit cigarette fall on the passenger’s floor. I immediately went to try to retrieve the cigarette with the car in motion. It only took a few seconds for me to grab the butt and take the biggest beating I’ve ever felt. I didn’t let go of the steering wheel and the car ended up in a tree, without any brakes.

It was a total loss. The airbag went off and I fucked up. Paulinho probably would not have survived if he had been with me, because the only interior space without any hardware was the one where I was, thanks to the airbag. The stones I felt in my mouth were three shattered teeth. In minutes I changed the final destination of that night. Instead of lying in my bed, I ended up in a hospital bed.

Today, fifteen years later, I feel a sense of strangeness remembering that day. It feels like I’m telling someone else’s story. The remains of that accident boil down to a few problems with the jaw and dental arch. It could have been worse, there could have been worse consequences. It sucks to remember that and write about it because it has nothing to do with everything I am today. Being in recovery is diving into an intensive self-knowledge and clarifying what life is, what I really like and who I am.

It’s hard to forgive myself for sometimes driving under the influence, it’s hard and painful to think that so much could have happened. Because a lot happens. Six months after that accident I lost my car and driver’s license. Another accident. And even if I hadn’t lost my wallet, debt wouldn’t allow me to buy another car. Today, when I see people who have been drinking and are going to drive, I feel bad. I’ve never been able to stop a drunk from doing anything.

I had to go through personal and social condemnations for me to finally start trying a new life. I’m a recovering alcoholic. It doesn’t matter if I haven’t been drinking for four years: it matters that each sober day brings me closer to a life that is more in line with me. Today I am responsible for myself and for those who ask me for help. I don’t stay in my lonely world of pain and regrets.

Is easy? Not at all, but it was already more difficult and everything indicates that if I avoid the first drink in the next 24 hours I will be even calmer and live more according to my principles. Do I blame myself? A lot, but I was paying the price and losing people and items. In this case, the car and motorized life. Forever? No. Just for today. And tomorrow, when I wake up, what day will it be? Today. And today I won’t drink and I won’t lose to the insanity my illness drives me to.

Everything comes back in its time. I still don’t have my driver’s license. Who knows, maybe one day, once again by car, I can give a ride to many Paulinhos who are not sick, but abusers. For Alices who insist on not accepting that they lost to alcohol. Alcohol is a public health problem, a deadly weapon for people like me. A weapon for me and everyone around me. For the quality of life I lead today, I wouldn’t trade a bar table for any boring day in the park, if you know what I mean.

PRESENT LINK: Did you like this text? Subscriber can release five free hits of any link per day. Just click the blue F below.