DOSE:

repeated

oral

Alcohol - Hard

BODY WEIGHT:

145 lb

I always loved drinking and I was very good at it for a long time. However, that is no longer the case as evidenced by a very scary experience on the weekend of my birthday.

From time to time I would indulge in what I termed 'lost weekends,' which, like its namesake film, basically involved me renting a hotel room for the weekend, stocking up with food and liquor, and spending the weekend drunk and playing on my laptop. For my birthday I'd planned on making a road trip to see one of my favorite bands, but the singer had gotten sick and the show had been cancelled. Since I had already told my husband I was going to be out of town, I decided to make it a lost weekend. I made reservations at a hotel about twenty miles from where I live, bought food, drinks and my favorite, a 1.75 liter bottle of Bacardi rum, checked into the hotel, stuck the DO NOT DISTURB sign outside, and prepared for a fun weekend.

I mixed the first rum and Coke, downed it, went for another. I was feeling good and surfing the net, and so that Friday afternoon passed, my world getting fuzzier. I went to bed around nine p.m., thoroughly drunk. Generally during “lost weekends” I’d sleep for about three hours, wake up and resume drinking. Not this time. I awakened in the dark, rolled over and looked at the clock. Nine-thirty. I only slept a half-hour? My buzz had gone down significantly as well, leaving me feeling leaden and with a headache. I was restless and got up, running fingers through my hair only to wince as I found a significant bump on my head. My eyes fell on the bottle of Bacardi sitting on the coffee table (the room was actually a small suite). When I’d gone to bed, I’d killed about a little more than a quarter of the bottle. Now? There was maybe half an inch left. The desk chair was knocked over as well. The bottle was capped and a quick feel around the floor told me that it hadn’t spilled. With growing horror I went to my computer and hovered the cursor over the time. Yes, it was 9:34 p.m. … but it was Saturday night. I’d lost an entire day. Judging from the location of the bump on my head it was pretty plain that I’d fallen over backwards in the desk chair doing … who knows? So how did I deal with the fact that I’d either been passed out or blacked out for twenty-four hours? Easy—I finished the rum and felt immediately better, even though I was still disturbed by what had happened. It was nearing ten p.m., and I figured I’d sleep everything off and go home the next day, which was my actual birthday.

I fell asleep around one a.m. and woke up at seven … still drunk. I thought about eating something (another thing—I’d had NOTHING to eat; my food supply hadn’t been touched) but the thought turned my stomach. I started drinking water but to no avail. I had to check out of the hotel by noon, and as the hours passed I started quietly panicking because I was still drunk. I took a shower and dressed, noticing that my hands and legs were shaking now, and started packing, hoping the activity would make me feel better. It didn’t.

The drunk feeling was gone but in its place was a weird and very unpleasant lightheadedness. I looked in the mirror and I had no color in my face. It was now 11:45 a.m. and the front desk called asking if I was going to stay another night. I paused. If it had been any other day I might have said yes, told my husband some story and try to get over this. But it was my birthday and plans had been made so I said no, I would check out. I brought my stuff out to my car and sat there, knowing I was in no condition to drive. Now the lightheadedness was coming in waves, along with nausea. I got out of my car and went in front of it to see if I could throw up, but I couldn’t. People were coming in and out of the parking lot and giving me looks (at least I thought they were) and I realized I couldn’t sit here all day. I was only twenty miles away, it was all freeways, I would be home in half an hour. I steeled my resolve and started my car, but I’d barely made it out of the parking lot before realizing I was still in no condition to drive. The hotel was located in an office park and I pulled into an empty parking lot, shaking.

All of a sudden I burst out in a cold sweat and felt extremely lightheaded, and for a few seconds I was positive I was about to faint. I started swearing, knowing that I couldn’t stay here either; a single car parked in an empty office lot would be a cop magnet. Then I remembered there was a popular chain restaurant next to the hotel where being parked for a couple of hours wouldn’t draw suspicion. Although it was maybe a 200-yard drive it seemed like forever because I was so miserable and paranoid but I made it there. I was feeling a little better, and I decided that as long as I was here I might as well get something to eat. I had no sooner put my name on the list when I got the shakes and cold sweats again so I huddled outside in a chair. I went into my purse for something but my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t get the zipper undone. When my name was called I almost literally hobbled to the table and huddled again, sweating and shaking. I asked the waitress for some orange juice and water and ordered an egg sandwich. I managed to drink the juice but I only took maybe two bites of egg; it was all I could stomach and I must have dropped my fork at least ten times. When the waitress joked that I didn’t have much of an appetite I mumbled something about having the flu. I left the restaurant and headed back to my car, feeling a little bit better again, and decided to drive home.

If I thought 200 yards took forever twenty miles was even worse. I made sure I had cruise control on at the speed limit and stayed in one lane, but I kept my eye out for any car that looked cop-like. I nearly cried when I turned onto my street, so grateful that I’d made it home. But here came the cold sweats and shakes again, now combined with an odd restlessness that had me going up and down the stairs for no reason other than to do something. My husband arrived home from his second job wishing me happy birthday and giving me flowers, talking excitedly about my birthday dinner at a new restaurant we’d been wanting to try. I was still in no mood for food but I put on my best face and went upstairs to my office, wishing that all this would just STOP. It didn’t. We went to the restaurant but again I was sweating and shaking and couldn’t eat anything; I took maybe five bites—it didn’t help that the food was lousy. I told my husband that I’d been feeling crappy all day (true) and that I thought I’d eaten something that didn’t agree with me (technically true). My husband was all sympathy and took me home, and I went to bed. As I lay in the dark my mind circled around itself like it does when I have a fever. I was also seeing strange red lights and at one point during the night I was positive that there were fire engines going up and down the road. The next morning I was improved but still shaky, but I managed to eat some sausage and go to work. I’d brought a light lunch of soup and was able to eat that as well, but it was Monday night before I finally felt normal.

When I told a very trusted friend about the experience, she said everything I went through was a classic case of the DTs, which scared the hell out of me even more. I have now turned to herbs like kava kava to help me release stress, because alcohol, once my ally, is now my enemy.

Exp Year: 2008	ExpID: 74655
Gender: Female
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Oct 4, 2019	Views: 1,062
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Alcohol - Hard (198) : Hangover / Days After (46), General (1), Alone (16)