The Keys To The Universe

That beer was followed by 2 or 3 more. It's impossible to know as I blacked out on my first drunk. In a section of my comedy routine I say that there are three stages to the family get together. One is "Hello, how are you? You look fantastic!" Two is "We have to do this more often!" Three is "I WAS FIFTEEN GET OVER IT!" The joke gets a lot of laughs but I think it's a pretty deep statement. When I drank there were usually three phases. First there was the happy buzz. Then I became the loving drunk. Last, it was a dark oblivion.

I should say early on that I am not anti-booze or "holier than thou." I just do not have the ability to stop drinking once I start. Casual drinkers have a cocktail to unwind or celebrate a holiday or event, to mourn a loss or forget a bad day. I drank to intentionally get drunk and to get away from myself if only for a few hours. It wasn't from a need to find relief from the world outside. It was from the fear, chaos and discomfort I felt inside being me. I hated being alone but always felt like I was. I could be at my own birthday party and be miserable or be at your party and be the center of attention. I had two personalities. I was either bouncing off the walls, making people laugh, being the ultimate court jester or feeling utterly empty, alone and afraid.

The moment the alcohol hit me it became the great equalizer. It warmed me to my very soul. I had the keys to the universe and felt like I could do anything. In that instant I was content with myself! All of my insecurity and self-criticism was swept away in the bubbles and froth! My big nose got smaller. My scrawny arms got bigger. My complexion got clearer and my mind stopped racing. But something else was activated in me at the same time. I needed more! I wanted to climb higher. I thought if a few drinks made me feel this good a couple more would make me feel even better.

I drank more to feel more or to feel less. I felt everything all the time. I lived emotionally, not logically. I reacted to the world instead of trying to navigate my way through it. When the stuff was racing through me it slowed my merry-go-round thinking just enough to make me feel like I was happy and content. But once my head and the room started to spin, my magic trip was about to come to a grinding halt.

The fun was over. I felt the familiar warning signs of a bad stomach. I staggered to my feet and stumbled down the hall. My buddies were giggling making more noise trying to whisper than if they were talking in their regular voices. The race was on for the bathroom and I lost. I lost everything I had drank and eaten and it felt like my stomach was going with it. From wall to carpet I left my mark in my best friend's new home. They tried to quiet me as his mother rushed down to see if everything was okay. I felt like I was dying and just beginning to live all in that horrible moment.

I passed out and woke up to my first hangover. I also was greeted with the humiliation, despair and remorse that would soon become my regular routine. My best friend was no longer my best friend. His parents thought I was a bad influence. Under the influence I am...