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My Name Is Human and I'm An Alcoholic

June 17, 2018. The day that would change my life forever. I started drinking at the young age of 14. I fell in love with being drunk. I felt like it made life a lot more fun and entertaining. I felt like it made me a lot more sociable and likable person. It helped ease my nerves in a social environment and made me not care what others thought about me. To be frank, it made me not care at all. I liked the feeling of security and invincibility when I was intoxicated.

It wasn’t until after years of drinking and getting older that I learned my lessons the hard way. I started experiencing the negative impact alcohol had on me but it still didn’t stop me. I was blind to it. I was too stubborn and delusional to admit I had a drinking problem. My drinking turned me into a reckless, belligerent, moody, arrogant, egotistical monster. I would say and do things to family members and people I loved that I would only regret years later. My drinking made me a selfish, heartless wrecking ball. I would say and do whatever I wanted without thinking about the short or long term consequences. Alcohol made me live in my own distorted world where it was anything goes. I thought I was on top of the world and in control of everything, only to have the world fall and crush me underneath.

After a failed relationship, I was no longer drinking for the same reasons I was when I was younger. It was no longer for pleasure, enjoyment or social gatherings. I was drinking to kill or at least ease the pain, sorrow, misery, loneliness, self-pity, blame, anger, hatred, shame, guilt, depression and suicidal thoughts I was feeling over my own personal mistakes and failures. It was the end of the world. I was in a black hole. I felt like there was nothing left for me. I was literally trying to drink myself to death. I would wake up, throw back shots of whiskey first thing in the morning and it would continue day and night. I would wake up with alcohol withdrawals. The only way to stop the sweating and shaking was to wake up and have a drink. I felt like I couldn’t even function normally without alcohol in my system.

I thought I could never break this vicious cycle. I lost all hope. I accepted my defeat. I was ready to fall into my grave doing something I loved and was good at- drinking. The few people who still loved and cared about me saw a version of me that nobody had ever seen before; a version of me that I never thought I could be. They knew I was battling demons stronger than I had ever thought possible. I didn’t want anyone’s sympathy or pity because the cold hard truth was I put myself in the position I was in. I didn’t want to admit it, accept it or even face it. I told myself death has got to be better than whatever this thing called life is.

My family had seen and heard enough. My parents mentioned the idea of sending me into a detox and rehab center for my drinking. I still can’t answer how or why it happened but one day I could see how much my self-destructive drinking was hurting my family. Parents were watching a son and brothers were watching a brother inch closer to his funeral. The old, alcoholic me wouldn’t have cared how much it was affecting them. The old, alcoholic me would probably be dead. I finally decided, after spending half my life in denial that I was an alcoholic, among other things, it was time for me to stop and get help.

Part of me feels like I didn’t make the decision to go into detox and rehab for myself — I very well might have done it for the sake of my family. Ironically, it might’ve been the first time in a long time I wasn’t being selfish. I wanted to die but my family wanted me to live. The old, alcoholic me would’ve been selfish and continued to drink until I got the result I wanted. It took a lot of courage and willpower for me to finally admit I had a problem and it was time for change, or die trying. Little did I know, it would start paving the road to controlling my life again. It gave me a higher sense of personal responsibility and ownership.

I agreed to enter a detox and rehab center on June 17, 2018. The idea of entering a detox and rehab center was terrifying at first. I asked myself “How did I ever get to this point?” and told myself “I’m nothing like these other people here, I don’t belong in a place like this.” I realized on the very first day just how wrong I was. We all had one thing in common: We struggled with drugs, alcohol and in some cases, mental disorders. We were also courageous and strong enough to admit we needed help.

People like us come from all ages, backgrounds and walks of life. If you saw us on the street you would never even be able to tell we were addicts or alcoholics. Entering detox and rehab could’ve very well saved my life. I learned a lot about myself as a person. I got a better understanding of all my wrongdoings. I learned the error of my ways and how they affected people who had the displeasure of crossing paths with the old, alcoholic me. I acknowledged and accepted the chaos and destruction I put others through. I had no choice but to. I was finally able to forgive myself for what I had done in hopes that one day those that I have done harm to can forgive me, even though I probably don’t deserve it. The new, sober me has learned to love myself and others again. The new, sober me is the strongest version of me I've ever known. It was the longest, darkest and steepest uphill battle I had ever climbed. Entering detox and rehab allowed me to take back control of my life. It made me feel like I was human again and not an abomination to society. My only regret is not going through treatment sooner.

Kevin Repass is a recovering drug addict and alcoholic. He is a writer for a south Florida-based company dedicated to providing resources and information to all those struggling with drug and alcohol addiction.

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OMG! Kevin you are amazing! Your story, your honesty and your willingness to share all of this and more with us ... just wow and thank you. I can totally relate to your "I'm nothing like these other people here", but that is a story I am not ready to tell. However, reading your story, gives me a bit more courage to wonder about how that story might go. I hope you continue to share, here on ACEs Connection. I am looking forward to hearing more about your journey. With gratitude, Karen 

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