/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.5706883]

Please describe your descent into alcoholism with as much detail as possible, and in the most prolific way possible. If you can't do this, you can't read. You are not a literati unless you describe to /lit/ your day job and your shitty life, hipsters. GIVE ME YOUR MEAT.

[Anonymous No.5706897]

But my decent was into amphetamines

[Anonymous No.5706900]

Started in my teens with stolen Wal-Mart booze.
Ended in my twenties with a car accident.

[Anonymous No.5707083]

the stars burst like spiderwebs of gold in black velvet and the poetry left our tongues like ships setting sail from harbor, I knew then that I was more a word than a man, but more a man than a boy, and that the emptiness would be with me always.

[Anonymous No.5707107]

>18 years old, last night of tour, kansas city
>everyone thinks it's adorable to buy me drinks at the bar because the venue gave a 'legal age' wristband

[Anonymous No.5707441]

>in the most prolific way possible

wut

[Anonymous No.5707463]

are yoou drinking the drink or os the drink drinking you

[Anonymous No.5707467]

My, my, my my slow descent, into alcoholism it went.

[Anonymous No.5707469]

>>5707441

he means we should write volumes on volumes about it, 12 hours a day of writing

[Anonymous No.5707512]

In my late teens, I had a friend who was dying of cancer. Slowly dying at first, then quickly. When his family got the news that he had something like six months left in him, they let us drink. Daily, I'd visit their house around six P.M. or so, and we'd pick up where we left off the previous night.

[Anonymous No.5707572]

Started to drink to get into a group of friends. There was some girl that I liked, but she was never into me. I sociabilized to get me more closer to her. I was 20 years old.

She got into my best friend, and that left me weakminded. I didn't enjoy drinking there. I wanted to be alone, so I isolated myself. Not in the tradicional sense, I still went to the drinking games, but I just wasn't "there".

They despised me, all the guys, I was there, but not present, the girl made me hate that group. I left it.

Now I drink on my house. I'm not alcoholic, but sometimes, I just want to drink more. But my own will stops me from doing it.

Still I drink less that in those drinking games, but I feel shame for all that period.

[Anonymous No.5707603]

I can't drink any more because I'm on antidepressants. Kind of sucks because now when I go out with friends, I'm the only one not drinking. Before antidepressants though, I'd usually drink maybe 8-10 shots of straight rum after work. This usually got me pretty buzzed but still functional and happier than I'd be when depressed. A lot of times I still want to drink but it'd seriously mess me up when combined with antidepressants.

[Anonymous No.5707612]

parents liquor cabinet.
copying dad.
numb the toes.
comfy

[Anonymous No.5707674]

I first began drinking when I was 15. My father would buy a four pack for me every weekend. At first, I would usually drink 1-2 a night, until all 4 were exhausted. After several weeks, I would drink all 4 in a night.

Shortly thereafter I began drinking with my friends with a greater frequency. I was never an addict, but I would always drink to excess on every occasion.

In my third year of university, I found myself in a particular state of loneliness and perceived isolation. I began drinking on Fridays and Saturdays, alone. After several months it became 4-5 days a week.

I completed my degree with a good grade. I'm now back at home with my parents. The feeling of loneliness has not yet truly left me. The habit that I thought was temporary has persisted. I'm half drunk now. Despite never drinking in the day, I find it difficult to endure the hours from 7-8 til 12-1 without a drink. It's been 3.5 months and I'm still NEET following graduation. I write, but I see my own work as derivative and devoid of value. Drinking, for a few hours a night at least, allows me to ignore it all.

[Anonymous No.5707764]

some of my favorite memories were created (with alcohol being a big part of them) in senior year

im not an alcoholic yet but even i can start seeing the signs. when i drink in a group, i tend to drink to extreme excess, sometimes blacking out (but i try to avoid this because blacking out is embarrassing)

but frankly drinking in a group doesn't stand up to a nice solo drunk. i can drink as much as i want, get as shitty as i want, laugh, cry, whatever. and all of those are better with alcohol. plus paying for school, rent, bills and food with the shit job i have doesn't result in the brightest monday/tuesday/wednesday nights and i feel better about it when im drunk

[Anonymous No.5707789]

>>5707512

[Anonymous No.5707801]

i eat mushrooms. alcohol is seriously pleb tier.

[Anonymous No.5707832]

1/2
At first I was happy. And I should be, the preppy recruiter told me as much. Working from home, a two minute commute from my bed to work rather than getting up an hour earlier and spending the first twenty-odd minutes of wakefulness scraping ice from my battered windshield. I was ecstatic.

On my first day of work in mid February, I stood in my kitchen window, dressed in a battered old robe and sipped my coffee, laughing at my neighbors as they plowed their way from their apartments to the parking lot across the way. No need to worry about the shitty plowing service, another item to check of the 'reasons why this new job rocks' list.

I liked it at first. Tech support wasn't a career I'd choose, but with the economy you take what you can get. At least, I wasn't changing nappies on sad, senile old bastards at the old folks home like my sisters. Shit, I even got paid more than she did, with better hours and without going near any geriatric bowels.

It changed. I went out less and less, the never ending tirade of assholes, rude old cunts and that psychotic fuck who insisted that the president of a multinational company was reading his email. All of that shit was my fault, of course. I had underestimated the effects of having to deal with it in my own home. I couldn't detach, like one should. After a while, I didn't even try.

The first time I took to the bottle was a Thursday. I'd received a ticket 5 minutes before my shift ended, an old lady wanted me to help her change her password. After she failed to click 'ok' for the fifteenth time, she decided she'd had enough, informed me that I was rude and that she'd be sending feedback to that effect. So I downed a bottle of wine with dinner. It wasn't the amount that was of importance, nor that it was a Thursday. Rather, it was the reason for it.

By the time my second year at the grind came to a close, I'd polish off a bottle or a sixer most nights. I didn't see the problem, of course. Made me sleep, and sleep good. It didn't change how fucking tired I felt though.

On morning in the middle of my third year, I guess it was a Tuesday because the full moon crowd was especially active the day before, as they were wont to do on Mondays for some reason, I found myself utterly incapable of getting out of bed properly. I dragged myself up, fell back down, and repeated the process. On the sixth attempt, I managed to stand up, hunched over slightly and bracing myself against the wall as I made my way to the kitchen. My head was pounding and all my limbs felt like lead. In other words, I felt like shit. I rummaged through the medicine box, conveniently left on the kitchen table from a few nights before. No aspirin, no paracetamol and no fucking ibuprofen. Great.

I called in sick. The boss lady was pissed. She was always pissed about something, stats or attitude or 'you've already been sick once this fiscal year'. I put my head down on the tabletop. It didn't work.

[Anonymous No.5707836]

>>5707832

2/2

I reached towards the counter and grabbed the first bottle that found its way into my hand. Aquavit, a juniper heavy blend. Crap. I went for it, and downed a few moutfuls. It tasted vile, the shit was supposed to be served ice cold, your tongue should stick to the rim should you decide to drink straight from the bottle.

I shook off the dreadful ooze. Soon, like a warm blanket the booze settled over me. It insulated my head and the pain was gone, though it felt light, like someone had stuffed cotton between my brain and my skull. It was quite remarkable. I called up my boss, she was delighted. 'You sound a bit tired, though' She said.
'Nah,' I replied 'Probably just the fever. But you know the drill, voice works so then I will.'. She must have been desperate for backup; since when does a mild fever make you lisp like Julio and give you mild symptoms of bells paulsy?

You learn to control it, though. They don't notice, not even the quality analysts. It's picture perfect, my voice. It's amazing, really, the shit you can get away with when no one actually see what you look like behind that voice.

[Anonymous No.5707841]

Always had this problem with the idea of alien substances affecting the way I perceive life as I grew up. I've never grown up being a particularly social or happy person but I could accept depression as long as I knew that I was working on making it better and I didn't need a substance to influence that. Into high school I had managed to stave off attempting the influence until one summer when I was hanging with a girl I had a hopeless infatuation for. She was the symbol of rebellion and being under the influence of substances but it didn't mean much to me because I liked her because of who she was. So when she got the chance it only took her a couple hours to pressure me into breaking my standing on the matter. I drank and I felt funny and my mind was numb. It didn't hurt so much to think of how I didn't matter at all to her, or that I wasn't ever a happy person. At least on occasion I could forget it with the excuse of drinking for events or in the company of friends. It started out on odd occasions, but seeking her acceptance I was trying to go to parties and be like the kind of outstanding rebel she would be interested in. In the end I mostly drank with friends and the time between drinking became less and less. Handful of times a year to once a month, to once a week, twice a week. By the time I was drinking three to four times a week I was drinking alone and sitting in front of my computer. Hating myself like I always had but also upset with what I had become, jobless except helping the family business which is dead in the winter season I drank to stop thinking about the lack of direction my life had. I started to control it more but still drink one or two times a week even if I'm alone. Won't accept any more drugs into my life though my friends want me to join in on the fun, I already have one addiction I'm ashamed of. But I can't think of a good reason to stop so I don't.

[Anonymous No.5707930]

started drinking at about 14. first only some beers with friends, then soon a bottle of vodka for three people. Then we got into weed, but still didnt cut down on alcohol.
i remember waking up totally bruised and bleeding from falling down so often. Still continued. Then gradually increasing alcohol and weed consume. With 17 i thought i should stop for a while, picked up smoking while not drinking (stil msoking today).
Fell in love, got depressed, spend my days on my bed, not doing anything. The watched over the house of a relative for a week, drank a bottle of wine per day.
Then made a short pause of alcohol, serious smoking took its place.
Mad up a rule after that: Only smoke after you drank one beer. So naturally i regularly visited frineds on weekends/under the week just to drink and then smoke. Was really stoned and drunk every weekend and some parts of the week. (Oh btw, got rejected by my love, increased drinking and smoking).
In final grade stopped drinking and smoking so much, was just depressed and smoked a lot.
Finished school (somehow with A grades) and then started drinking again, but not as much as before.
Am fucking bored now, just moved out, have a job with not much to do, get by.
Just drank a bottle of wine yesterday and am halfway through the next one...

[Anonymous No.5708089]

anyone read the lost weekend? i haven't, but i get the impression that it's one of those cases where the movie is better than the book

[Anonymous No.5710274]

When i was fifteen i got drunk for the very first time. Sure, i had drunk before, a glass of wine with dinner, a beer stolen from dads fridge or sampling all the liquors in the cabinet. Drunk was a level far beyond the mild dizziness and warmth of tipsy that i had tasted. My consciousness was seriously altered for the first time, thoughts became loose and my body clumsy. The next day i told myself i would never drink again after retching up the contents of my stomach several times in the night and once in the morning. I probably got drunk another 3 times that year. When i started college, i met new friends and the weekend routine became meeting up in a park and getting drunk off wine in a bag. By the time i turned 18 i had gotten over getting shitfaced drunk, so when i began to drink nightly, i wasn't so bothered by it because i was only getting a little tipsy. My dad used to have a beer or two every night and mum a glass of, so it was fine for me. When i moved out of home, i began to drink more and smoke more. I moved into a share house with a few friends and most nights we would sit around and have some beers and a bong. I would drink a six pack a night and i didn't worry, i was drinking socially and over several hours so i didn't even get drunk... most nights. At some point i realised i was drinking more than i thought i was, so i tried to cut down and was pretty happy with myself when i cut down to 3 beers and a spliff or two. When i moved houses the same guys moved with me, and some. With the new space in the house i was able to start brewing my own beer, longnecks now only cost me a dollar a piece. I wasn't often alone, with 6 people in a house there is always someone to drink with; but it did finally happen, i had a night to myself. I had work the next day at 8; i drank 3 bottles of wine and went into work drunk and left hungover. I wondered why i had done it and thought it might be a problem but i had a few beers that night. anyway. Over the new years period i took a lot of acid and got roofied on new years eve, one of those things or both really fucked my head around and i began to develop an anxiety disorder. I had to quit my job and go back home. When i had to tone my drinking down with my parents i new it had become a problem, i found it incredibly difficult to even go back to just being buzzed. I had a sober night then, and i noticed around 10-11 without a drink i began to get spaced out and lost. so i drank to stop feeling like that, or to make to justify the sensation. I went over to europe early this year, i would often find myself drinking five or 6 litres of beer a day telling my self it was ok because it was a holiday and i would cut back when i got back home. I did cut back when i got home, but only due to my financial situation.

[Anonymous No.5710276]

>>5710274
I moved back into my sharehouse and continued drinking. I was listening to the radio and the presenter and been talking about how they though it was bad having a beer or two every night to get buzzed before bed. It started turning the cogs in my mind, after all that was my original stance, a beer or two every night was ok. I thought about it and i realised i had not had more than 3 or 4 alcohol free days in the last two years. I asked my housemates if they thought we drank too much, and they all said it was fine. Regardless i decided to cut it out for three days a week. I mad one sober day then cracked. I then realised i couldn't stop anytime i wanted. Even as a response to taking one day off i drank more than i normally would for a week as if to reward myself. Now, i find i can't unwind after work without a few beers, i have trouble sleeping sober, and now when i drink it makes me sad that i can't stop. i wake up every day and say tonight i wont drink. But everytime it rolls around to 5 or 6 or even 2 in the afternoon i find myself putting a beer in the fridge.

[Anonymous No.5710277]

Alcohol makes me more appealing to chicks and to myself

It's not a very long or interesting story

[Anonymous No.5710313]

It started in the bars and ended behind them.

[Anonymous No.5710346]

The first time I was drunk I was 13. I puked all over the place.

When I was 15 I started drinking regularly. I found out it made me do stuff I would otherwise never have dared. When I was 17 I spent a summer with an alcoholic in France.

After that summer, I drank almost every day.

I still do.