So not gonna lie, I was really surprised by the comments on my last post. Not because of what anyone said (which was nice and much appreciated), but because I didn't remember writing a post yesterday. I mean when I read it, I did sort of remember. It was weird. I know I did this in the past. I have written blog posts and sent texts while blacked out. I don't think I ever called anyone, but I don't even do that sober.
Today I have been thinking about past experience when drinking. My depression was quite bad at some points in my drinking. I remember going inpatient once and absolutely convinced I was there for depression and not drinking. Never mind that they had me on Librium for detox because I was drinking unhealthy amounts.
Well, now I am remembering how alcohol affects depression. My sponsor wanted me to think about consequences of my drinking.. as well as pros/cons of it as a coping mechanism. I talked to her yesterday with not much to say other than that I wanted to give up and didn't know how anyone could help. After the women's meeting where a good friend mentioned attempting suicide last year and several others mentioned suicide, I started to think more about wanting to die. I didn't share. I didn't share later when we went to visit a woman who is in assisted living and we take a meeting to because she can't get out.
It was after getting back and getting into my car that everything hit. I wanted to cry. I thought about wanting death. I thought about how I am never going to graduate and want to quit. I want to tell my professor that I give up. I talked to my boss at work Friday to be sure it wouldn't jeopardize my job to not graduate. I teared up talking to her. She asked repeatedly how she could help, and I said she can't. Nobody can.
I really don't know if I am suicidal, but I don't want to be alive and be such a failure. I went to Target yesterday after visiting A, and driving home I remember wanting to cry and trying to hold out until I was home. I remember knowing that alcohol would shut off my thoughts. It worked. I didn't care about any of it after a few shots.
Today, I thought about calling someone after work about the depression or about school. I couldn't do it. I know that alcohol is involved with my depression. I have been listening to Madness by Marya Hornbacher and that book repeatedly mentions how her drinking makes her meds not work. I know the same is true for me. I don't want to discuss with anyone how my depression is getting worse because of the alcohol just as expected. I also don't want anyone to suggest hospital. I fear that they will say I need to be inpatient for either detox or suicidal thoughts. They might be right to suggest it, but I am not willing to go. I just got out.
So I didn't call anyone. I went to the store to buy something to use as a chaser and ran into a coworker. I hoped she couldn't tell how unhappy I was. Now I am home and drinking. I have cut myself a little, which is the other thing I don't want my friends to know about.
I think they know things are bad. My former sponsor held my hand and rubbed it during the meeting yesterday. In the past, she would rub my neck or shoulders when I was really upset during meetings. I cried during the meeting. It's possible everyone knows. I just tell most of them I am fine if they ask. It's only my sponsor, my former sponsor, and maybe one friend who I will tell things are bad. I texted my friend that I wanted to quit school, and her response was that she didn't know what to say. I understand that. It was not something that I should share via text, but I just can't call.
I know alcohol is a depressant. I know it interferes with meds. I also know it is supressing my other thoughts and feelings. I am also very defensive of it. I know if I talk about or try to get help for this depression, that it would be brought up that I am drinking heavily. It will come up that I have experienced this before. I know that I need to stop drinking, and I don't want to be reminded that I should know better. I should, and I do. I just keep drinking anyway.
So I don't tell anyone about the depression because I don't want to do what is necessary to fix it. I don't care about wanting to die because drinking is a slow death anyway. I want to tell someone, but I am not willing to go inpatient again.
I don't know. I don't know. I have no solution. I don't even care. I just wanted to be honest somewhere.
Thank you everyone who is supportive. I deeply appreciate the support.
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