Blog Secret: the day has arrived!

A couple of posts ago, I wrote about participating in an Internet-wide voluntary Blog Secret event, whereby people write anonymous posts and share them on each other’s blogs, using the wonder and magic of Nilsa over here. Today is the day where nearly 100 secrets are hidden all over and I am lucky to be able to hold one of them right here. What follows is a beautifully written, achingly brave self-reflection, and although it would be so nice to meet this person, I honestly have no idea who wrote it or how to find the author. Nilsa has been sworn to secrecy to keep writers’ identities under lock and key, and that is something I respect tremendously. So read the words below, leave some thoughts. And next year, if Nilsa does this thing again, maybe you’ll want to share a secret you’ve been holding in!

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AA
 
Many consider me to be my city’s life of the party. Drinking, as a result, was an escape mechanism for my social anxiety to transform into that VIP person. After another painfully familiar break-up, I took part in Opening Day festivities downtown for baseball season – alone. I proceeded to get smashed beyond recognition.
 
Sadly, that was not my first drunk black-out.  Partially as a result of another blackout that week, I had cheated on my boyfriend, kissing somebody else in a bar. And I didn’t even remember it.
 
I have scattered memories of that opening night – most of which I pieced together with text messaging the next morning. The most horrible incident, is that I walked several blocks back to my car, up five flights of stairs to the top of a parking garage and fumbled for my keys – all in an effort to show up at my ex’s place drunk and desperately wanting. 
 
I had a guardian angel that night. From the little that I remember, a girl and her boyfriend stopped me in that garage, and asked if I needed a ride. I was frank and adamant that I would be driving myself home that evening, thank-you-very-much.
 
Thankfully, she did not allow it. She took my keys, put me in my passenger seat and somehow I gave her directions as to where I lived. Her boyfriend followed in their car. To ensure I would remember the memory perhaps, I threw up in my own car during the commute.
 
After I arrived at my apartment, I remember peeking out the blinds and watching her get into her sedan and drive off. To this day, I still have no clue who that couple was. They probably saved my life that night – or the life of somebody else.
 
The next morning I was embarrassed – albeit extremely hungover – and feeling horribly alienated. I looked at text messages from my ex, which I’m sure had a part in my excessive over-partying. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry after viewing pictures of people that I don’t even remember meeting. I had a breakdown – a complete mess of a mental breakdown. I imagine the despair I displayed that day was similar to one who feels their life is over. Most of us through the angst of our teenage years feel displaced and suicidal, and that day as a grown adult, I felt similarly finished. The prior night was the climax on a pattern of drinking in which was becoming increasingly difficult to deal. It was making me depressed . And even though having many bar acquaintances, I felt incredibly alone.
 
That night, instead of picking up another bottle – or worse – I showed up at an Alcoholic Anonymous meeting. I cried listening to their drinking stories. I cried introducing myself. I cried when men and women of all ages were inscribing my Big Book with their contact information. I needed help – maybe not even particularly with drinking – but maybe more with what was causing my out-of-control decisions. Drinking had taken over every part of my life. I had no desire for any of my daily activities. I wasn’t even sure if I was even ready to label myself an alcoholic, but I was experiencing a downward spiral to which I had no idea how to crawl out.
 
I stayed sober for a total of six months. I went to 90 meetings in 90 days. Every single day. After the initial three months, I would attend meetings about three times a week. I stood up at some of those meetings too, and shared in the pain and memory. I prayed more then than I had my entire life – not particularly sharing their ideological viewpoints, but a quiet acceptance of my personal Higher Power.
 
This was over four years ago. Today… I drink. Today, I even party more than I should. And many around me probably feel that I still belong in AA. But today, I feel a purpose to my life. Today, I feel a level of control that I was unable to years ago. But four years ago was a leap into accepting responsibility for all my actions – something that I rarely did. I was accountable for everything that  occurred in my life.
 
I have to be cautious though. Because if I learned anything in those meetings, I know that demon will always exist within.