It's tempting to say it all started when my sister died. It didn't really. Alcohol came into my life 15 years earlier. But lets just say it started when my sister died.
I was 29, my sister was 33. She had a pre-leukemic disease for 4 years (mylodysplastic syndrome) which had turned into acute myloid leukemia, a very aggressive leukemia that beat her in 7 months. It would have been sooner if she wasn't such a fighter. She was my best friend and I was furious... furious with God. I felt like I could no longer acknowledge him.
My husband and I used to have "parties" once in a while. We'd put the kids to bed and break out the chips and the vodka. Five to ten shots later we were having a blast, playing Nintendo or watching stupid TV shows and laughing.
After my sister died, instead of having a "party" once or twice a month, I was convincing my husband to have them with me 2-3 times per week. I wanted to get lost, away from my pain.
A year later, I found out I was pregnant and had been having "parties" 3 weeks into my pregnancy. I felt guilt for a long time. I may still carry guilt. He was a healthy baby and I returned to drinking a few months after he was born. Then there was more guilty behavior. I drank after he went to sleep, yet he would often wake up 5-6 hours later wanting to nurse, and I nursed him, with several shots of alcohol in me, I nursed him. This probably happened a couple of times a week.
When he was done nursing, and over then next year, my drinking turned into a 5-7 day per week habit. My marriage struggled as we juggled 3 little boys. I felt criticized and used. I had daily headaches and dizziness. I became accustomed to masking this all with alcohol.
How did I get here? Why did I let myself get here?
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