Rock Bottom

We all have some sort of vice that we shouldn’t use when we’re at our lowest, cigarettes, alcohol, pills, self-harm, shopping, eating, projecting, you name it, we all have something. For years in highschool mine was self-harm. It was like an addiction, the self-inflicted pain that I was in control of, temporarily lessened the emotional pain that I didn’t know how to control. Although I stopped doing that years ago, it is still one of the first things that comes to my mind every time I’m in that distressing, not sure where to turn to, unable to cope kind of pain. Since I refuse to give in to these self-harming urges, the pain has to be released somewhere.

When I was heading into my 11th year of school, my ex-boyfriend passed away. This was one of those times where I couldn’t figure out how to let out my emotions and all of the pain that consumed me every day. Eventually, I started to learn that it came out when I drank. The screaming, the sobbing, the vomiting. It didn’t take too long for me to recognise that alcohol and me in pain did not mix well and I stopped drinking.

Then when I was 19 I was raped, and the cycle happened again, and again I recognised the pattern and got it under control.

It’s been years since anything like that has happened, but lately I’ve been feeling that way again. The over-whelming pain and grief and loss of my life. The daily physical pain as well as all of my other Lyme symptoms and simply learning to live with Lyme disease has put me over the edge recently. My new counsellor suggested that maybe the only time I feel safe to express my emotions is when I’m drunk. That for some people they don’t have to feel guilty for what they do or say when they’re drinking. I would be the opposite of that. Even if I don’t remember what I did or said, I feel an over-whelming sense of guilt anyways, which only adds to all of the pain I’m already trying to process. I feel like I’ve been crying out for help for so long now, and the support that I needed never came. Last week I was feeling so self-destructive. I don’t know why that’s the place that I naturally arrive to when I can’t cope with the world inside of me, but I’ve battled that for years.

I’m not a big drinker, in fact most people when they find out I’ve gone out and had a few too many on those rare occasions, congratulate me and tell me its good for me to let loose sometimes. I’m your typical glass of red wine with dinner maybe a couple, and usually can handle my alcohol fairly well, that is, until I’m in that mode of overwhelming emotional pain and self-destruction. Not to mention Lyme disease and all of the meds that come along with it seem to have changed the way alcohol responds in my body as well.

I feel like I’ve been crying out for help for so long now, and no one listened. I’ve even flat out said to my friends, family or boyfriend, “I need more help,” “I’m feeling really self-destructive,” “I need to do some things to make myself feel better,” “I can’t keep doing everything I’m trying to do by myself,” I also wrote this blog post the afternoon before I self-destructed. Each time I said one of these things I got a small acknowledgement that I said it, but then nothing. Now I’m certainly not trying to blame other people for my actions – I am the only one who can control what I do and I realise that. I just really, really needed some extra support, and if those weren’t clear ways of asking for it, then I don’t know what is.

So we went out to the pub, and I drank too much. And like any self-destructing 26 year old, I wanted to keep going even when I normally would have stopped after 2-3 drinks, so we did. And we had a blast, but at the end of the night, the only one sobbing and vomiting, was me. And I blacked out.

The next day was rock bottom for me. Not only was I severely hungover, Lyme symptoms flared, struggling to remember how ugly the night before really got, I had to admit to myself why this had happened. No one forced me to go out. No one forced alcohol down my throat. I did this. And since I know from my history that I only do this during certain moods, I had to really face the reality that I am not okay. And have not been okay for a very long time.

The truth is, I don’t want to live. Not like this anyways. And after picturing what kind of letters I would leave behind and who would take my dog, I had to admit that to myself, and finally admitted it to my mom, and got an emergency counselling session right away, with a second one booked for only 4 days later. I should have asked for counselling sooner, but I was in denial. I wish someone else had recognised it sooner too, but no one is to blame for that.

This is my rock-bottom. And the thing about rock-bottom is that you can only go up from there. I have my counsellor in place, and now that my mom is aware of what is going on she can better support me as well. All of my old coping mechanisms no longer work with Lyme disease, which I’m sure contributed to me being here now, but with my new counsellor I will be working on creating new ones and getting back to my healthy happy self, even if that looks different now than what it used to. I’m working on mending relationships and finding forgiveness, but most of all, I’m working on mending my relationship with myself, and forgiving myself.

If you or anyone you know is struggling with any kind of chronic illness or mental health issue, listen carefully to their words, chances are they’re asking for help in ways that maybe you don’t recognise. If you are struggling, please call a counsellor. I used Alongside You and they were fantastic but you can also find a list of counsellors in British Columbia here.

**This turned out to have a major Lyme herx reaction contributing to my mood as well

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