I realized not too long ago after 2-3 years of therapy (mainly for OCD, a few sessions for childhood trauma) that I have to be honest or else I’m just fooling myself. I’m going to admit my age, not because I have to, but because I want to. It makes more sense to explain my situation. I’m 19. So naturally, I’m underage for buying alcohol. However, the gas station right next to my neighborhood, the store clerk who is there every day knows me well. Not enough to know my name, but well enough to know I come in for a reason. I used to buy cigarillos from him so I could roll blunts when I would smoke weed. Then, one day out of nowhere, I was with a friend who was 17 who knew a girl who was also 17. We went in, and she dared to buy a 40 oz. It worked. Ever since that day, I’ve been able to purchase alcohol from this one guy who didn’t seem to care. I adored him for it. Now I could buy engage in underage drinking with my own money without feeling guilty for stealing from one of my family members. (My mother, my stepfather, and my grandmother).
Underage Drinking from Accessibility
The ability to purchase alcohol for underage drinking changed my life, and I STILL can’t determine if it was for better or for worse. Now that I had a proverbial “plug” or “dealer” that I could get my drug of choice from ( I have 2 DOC’s, alcohol and weed) I could now get alcohol anytime I want, despite my age. It then became my daily routine to try every brand of beer on that fucking rack. It soon became every god damn day. I still can’t believe it. It felt like the holy grail of any young adults dreams.
But I now realize this was just an enabler for my addiction. I would go out to “get something to eat” when in reality I would go the gas station, buy some quantity of alcohol, and drink it (yes, while driving) as I went to pick up weed. In my mind, alcohol and weed were like butter and bread. They just WENT together, end of story. I would get drunk as hell and enjoy that, and once I got tired of the alcohol “high”, I would add weed to the mix, and it just topped it off like frosting on a beautiful cake. It was a beautiful thing in mind, but as I said, it was every day.
Hitting Bottom with Inspiration for Change
My mood plummeted to an all-time low, and I was as slow as fucking molasses. I reclused into my room, too petrified to even socialize with my friends. Underage drinking and weed were all I cared about, and I’m still not convinced that I’m over it. ( I’m still drunk as I type this) I needed to explain where I am at with this bullshit because my friends don’t see it and my family won’t understand because they were victims of my thievery. It still doesn’t even feel liberating to type this because I still feel like I’m in the thick of it, but I know it’s important to get my story out to validate it in my head, so here it is.
I will refer back to this another day and, even though it may be hard to read, I know that it is the truth. Thank you. I will now reside in my room, waiting for what is next for me. Wish me luck… And yea, I am still drunk, and I don’t know what that means for my recovery. Fuck.