Addiction

I know I have an addictive personality. I am uncertain if it is part of my bipolar disorder or part of my inheritance from my family history - it is probably a bit of both.

Alcoholism is a vice that runs through my family tree - it sounds shameful, but it is unfortunately common in many families. 

It is something I deal with personally. 

I am currently very discouraged in my choices. I find it ironic that just last year, around this time, I was engaged in deep drinking. From mid-May through all of June, I consumed whole bottles of wine to myself and hid the empty shells away from the eyes of my loved ones. I drank for the high, to be carried away into a state of numbness where everything felt dizzy and funny. It felt so nice to not feel heavy and lead-like under the anvil of my depression and anxiety. 

But of course, that feeling would be gone the next morning. I would sleep for hours upon hours, dreading getting up from my bed. And when I eventually did, I just sought the next high and continued my heavy drinking.

It came to an end in July, when I was finally matched with a psychiatrist who wanted to have my quit the medications I was on at the time and put me on 3 new ones. In order to do this, she ordered a blood test to check my body levels. 

The test came back grim for my liver. She told me with grave seriousness that I needed to quit drinking. 

I quit for 3 months, joined Weight Watchers, and a gym. I began to feel better, bit by bit. I was driven by fear, to be honest.

I had a second blood test done in September and the results came back amazing for my liver. I was so proud of myself and felt much better about my health. I continued on in my fitness journey and ended up dropping over 30 pounds to a much healthier weight and took on a healthier lifestyle. 

But I am now back to where I started, this time last year.

I am once again immersed in my drinking vice. I believe I have consumed alcohol every day for a month and a half, now. I continue to throw out excuses and my money, seeking the high of tipsiness. 

I woke up today ashamed. Yesterday was not a good one in the sense of the choices I made. I cried out of guilt and refused to leave my bed. I know I am sinking back into self-loathing. 

So, I now am back to keeping a record of my journey, knowing it is possible to leave this rut once again. It is scary how easy it can be to just give up and slip back into old habits that claw and damage my mental and physical health. I just continue to shoot myself in the foot and have fun doing it. 

Well, not anymore. I hope to quit once again and forge on in my journey to lose weight, become stronger, and fight back in the daily battle of overcoming my illness.

It starts today, once again.

Better late than never.