A What The Hell Happened Story

I wrote this in 2013.  I don’t drink now, happy joyous and free.  I still have my ups and downs, and I am doing the things I need to be doing to be sober.  I only represent myself and no one else.  My higher power has done for me what I could not do for myself.


One late afternoon in February 2013, I was sitting in my chair thinking about Boyd Andrew IOP (out-patient treatment for addiction), and I realized that I was anxious and uneasy about going to IOP. I decided to have a few drinks from my Ice 101 liquor bottle, just four or five minds you. The few memories that I have are mainly involving my computer and my attempt to log on to the machine. Imagine you have a twenty-four character password, say something like this; “%H*15abu.<{]’;Aht$%A&HJW” and you try entering the password fifty-two times in a row, yeah that’s right, fifty-two times in a row. All night long I was doing all sorts of nasty things to my computer, like installing software that I shouldn’t have. At some point, I logged out of my computer and tried logging back in, hence the fifty-two times in a row. I only have a few blurry images in my head, the reason I know what happened at all is that my machine logs everything that happens on itself. The sad thing is that I messed up my computer so bad that I had to reinstall the operating system, on the other hand, I got to rebuild my machine from the start and correct the original mistakes from the initial install… oh wait, did I just minimize and justify my drinking, oops.

Hey wait just a minute, there were other side effects from that bottle too. Somewhere between 1 AM and 5 AM I had what I call a super burp. I was laying on my right side in the bed in the dark when I had a considerable burp, I thought nothing of it. After a bit I noticed that the right side of the bed was very wet, I thought wow I’m really drooling tonight, I drool when I sleep. Since the right side of the bed was wet, I rolled over to the left side, where I promptly had another super burp, again I thought nothing of it. After a bit, the left side became wet too. I laid flat on my back facing straight up at the ceiling trying to avoid the wetness to no avail. So in frustration, I got up and went to the living room and slept till about 5 AM in my big comfy chair.

Well, I tried to sleep, but I didn’t do an excellent job because I felt like shit, stomach queasiness and felt like I had the flu. At 5 AM I got up and went to my bedroom where I turned on the light… shock… My bed was covered all over with vomit, no wonder I couldn’t escape the wetness. It was all over the floor too, and my face and chest were coated with a lovely slime as well. Oh yeah, it was also several inches above the bed too, on the window drapes, how it got there I have no idea. It was all so disgusting, made even worse with the knowledge that I would have to clean it up. I looked over at the bottle and saw that it was empty. Feeling really sick to my stomach I wondered how I went from four or five drinks to an empty bottle and missing IOP completely. Took 2 days to recover and I vowed it would never happen again, yeah but, uh oh I said “yeah but,” the farther away I get, the better looking that bottle gets still.

My feelings on this matter are hard to see as I am not very in touch with my emotions. The first feelings started hours, maybe even a day or two ahead of the incident. I remember feeling anxious and annoyed and dread at having to go to IOP and face my peers yet again and have to tell them I relapsed yet again. Thus those first four or five drinks were all about loosening me up, getting me relaxed and giving me courage. It was also a way of making me feel numb to my emotional pain and making resentments go away. I become hollow inside, devoid of emotions, just a calculator and not a very good one at that. I often wonder what answer I would give if someone had asked me when I was drunk that night what I felt and if I answered honestly I think I would say “nothing.” “Nothing” is exactly what I seek when I drink, just a shell of a man. When I’m drunk, all my pain goes away.

When I wake up all those emotions come flooding back in with the force of a hurricane. It’s incredibly upsetting for me to wake up and know it was all in vain. As an alcoholic, it’s my fantasy to find the nirvana of the alcoholic drink, the one that lasts forever. Some kind of magic potion to make the world as it should be, free from pain and suffering and freeing me from fear. Instead of alcohol just makes my world hurt more, causing more trouble than it’s worth. I need to face my problems healthily, little baby steps that will someday lead to a much better life.

I’m not going to say anymore because every alcoholic knows the story so well that it’s their story and their story is my story. Hoping I stay sober.

Nate Homier

P.S. I saw that my mom had called the night before saying she was coming over to check on me. I didn’t remember her coming over, so I called her and said I just forgot to call her and I said I went to bed early. She said no you didn’t, I did come over and you were passed out drunk. Oops… mother just caught me in a lie courtesy of a blackout.

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