An alcoholic in the making

I want to take some time to run through my life. If it bores you, sorry. If it amazes you....well I doubt it.

I don't ever remember seeing my dad without a beer in his hand. He was always drunk and surrounded himself with drunks. I was daddy's girl so I was always with him. When we were home, he was always making something. He was very talented. Beer in hand. In my mind, beer obviously didn't limit your abilities.
When we were out and about, we were mostly at bars. Sometimes his friends house. I fondly remember The Red Horse, Huppy's West Lodi (used to be Pops) the Old Oaken Bucket, and various clubs. Seemed like all his drinking buddies and even the bartenders were happy to see him and me too. It was always "there's Frankies girl" or "Shultzies girl". I had all the pop, chips or whatever goodies I wanted. I played pinball and pool, and darts while dad drank. The ride home was often scary though. From one side in the ditch to the other down those narrow country roads. I just hoped we would get home safe. That never stopped me from going though. I loved the bar atmosphere. The smells, sounds, lighting, mood. It felt better than home to me, and still does.
I don't remember my first drink. Or my first drunk. I honestly don't.
Dad eventually died. I was 11. He was 57. I still don't remember, but I'm pretty sure I finished his case of beer one by one.
When I was a teen, or maybe 12, who knows? I remember sneaking liquor into the shopping cart when out with mom. I did that often. My friends and I would sit outside or in my room and mix drinks. I still don't remember even getting tipsy from that. I already had a high tolerance for alcohol.
I was setting myself up for a lousy life. Most of those friends have moved on to a "wonderful" life that didn't involve addiction. I just thought it was the cool thing to do. The grown up thing. I often went out driving and doing illegal shit after these drinking episodes.
Dad also had lots of homemade wine in the cellar. And I finished all that too. All but the dandelion wine. That shit was nasty. He could make wine outta anything.

I know I must have been 14 or 15 when I started going to a neighboring town and staying with people. Getting drunk. One person in particular was 30 or maybe a little older. I think he just enjoyed my company, and I liked that he would let me crash there at night. I stayed pretty much every weekend. Get up in the morning, go find something or someone to do all day and go back there to get drunk and sleep.d He never tried anything with me. Looking back now, he was more than a little wierd though. And he's in prison for some sex crime involving young girls, so I lucked out on that i guess.
I think I got high the first time when I was 17 or so. That was my new drug of choice. I did a lot of smoking. Only at night though. One day I thought, man wouldn't it be cool to go somewhere high? So we went to the beach. It was cool! Soon I was smoking when I got up and all day long.
When I moved into the place I live now, about ten years ago, I was working at a place where drugs and drinking were a way of life. My boyfriend at the time lived with me and we liked to go to the bar on the weekend. I never could drink too much before I was done. Twenty bucks would last both he and I the whole night.
In 2000, a friend of mine died from a life of drinking and drugs. It was a rather painful experience for me. She was wanted by the law and hiding out. At my house of course. So when she went to the hospital and I spent hours there every day for two weeks. She slipped into a coma and soon the doctor was telling me it was time to pull the plug, so I did. I promised her that day, while she lay in my embrace dying, I would drink a beer for her everyday. Stupid? Yes, but....
So I did. One was enough for me then. Soon I was getting two on way home. Then I realized that the twenty four ouncers were a better buy, so I got those instead. It occured to me sometime at around this time that a six or twelve was an even better deal and I could keep it in the fridge.
I also remember thinking, I needed to build up my tolerance to keep up with my friends. They could all drink more than me and I didn't like being called a light weight. Stupid again, huh?
Well, it worked. I've become a seasoned drinker.
It has become a daily event. Leading to dysfunction and chaos in my life. Eventually leading to trouble with the law and children services.
Now I'm on the path to recovery. It's definately hard. And being sober is definatley a new experience. I'm looking over my life and I realize that I don't remember most of it. My childhood is blocked because it was painful. My twenties are drowned in an ocean of beer and drugs. I'm hoping I can make something outta my thirties.
I have a feeling it will be hard. Afterall, I sobered up and realized I'm still stuck mentally in the past and physically, my body is tore up from the floor up. I'm a hot damn mess! No hobbies, no anything really....
Drinking had become my hobby and my life.
It is truly cunning, baffling, and powerful.