Drunk on a Park Bench with a Bottle in a Brown Paper Bag

A Memoir of Addiction and Recovery

 

By

Jimmy Thistle

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Prologue

 

I had not long turned 40 and I was drunk every single day, it would start as soon as Emma and the kids would leave for work and school or sometimes before if I had some drops of vodka in one of my many hiding places left. This would help me focus and get my shit together so that I could put on a pretence for an hour or so before they left and I could top my levels up again. I did hate it, all this sneaking about, the lying, the pretending to be sober when I wasn’t, it was exhausting, but I don’t want any sympathy, maybe if you had asked me then I would have been all ‘oh woe is me!’ but not now, now I am sat in here in my friend Cathi’s house, drinking water and writing. This is day 2 of coming out of a 28-day detox/rehab and believe me I had my moment of clarity!

 

            Clarity or God or my Higher Power came to me in the form of three things, not any 12 steps or enlightenment but 3 things became apparent.

 

1.     Continue drinking and lose everyone dear to me.

2.     Continue drinking and end up on the streets.

3.     Continue drinking and die.

 

It was really that simple, Emma, my friend Rob and my brother Richard and my parents, Dot and Jim all colluded and decided rehab in Blackpool was the place I needed to go, the fact that I had pushed everyone to their absolute limits and no one actually trusted or wanted me in their houses or even in their vicinity was by the by. I was fucked and needed help and help fast, none of this detox myself with a few strong lagers in the evening to ‘take the edge off’ was going to cut it this time, I was gone and not coming back without professional help and time away from temptation or even just the need I had to make myself feel human. So I came round to the idea one Friday night and decided yes I would go, it wasn’t as easy as it sounds, I had to fuck up one last time, I didn’t plan on it but nothing I did was planned, nothing that is apart from getting myself a bottle of vodka or anything I could get my hands on, I really wasn’t that fussy or financially able to be fussy. This last fuck up is something we shall get to but for now as I said I am sat at my friend’s house, writing.

 

Having made it half way across the country on three separate trains in order to get my car from Emma’s house, she didn’t want to see me so I had to get her to drop the keys at the car and then I would retrieve them and then drive to Nottingham to stay at Cathi’s for two weeks until my flat back in York is ready to move into. This will all transpire as the story unfolds but for now, I am going to share with you an exercise I did in Ocean Recovery, it is a goodbye letter to my drug of choice, alcohol. I hope you enjoy and remember there may be times that sound like they were amazing laughs and mind-expanding times and you wouldn’t be wrong but just remember the message in the story of where I end up. Not a good place and if there are people out there reading that are in a similar boat, please be quick and do whatever it takes to get yourself off that boat before it sinks.

 

Dear Alcohol,

                        I remember all those years ago when we first became acquainted, I was 14 and you made me feel great! You were something that I could relate to and not feel as small as the child I was, but more like the rock star idols I worshipped. You made me have the confidence of Jim Morrison and the creativity of Eddie Vedder. So when we hung out, everything seemed possible.

            All of my friends at the time made friends with you too so we all hung as one big pissed up gang.

            Throughout my teens you guided me to meet and hang out with some your harder friends and although these relationships were cracking, we were never as close as you and I!

            As I got older and had to start acting responsibly, you were there but never really had my back. The time you encouraged me to drive my car with you close by? Where were you when they took my license?! Oh yeah, not far behind, as you saw the fact that I couldn’t drive as an excuse for us to hang out even more!

            Where were you when I kept on failing in relationships?! Oh yeah, that’s right, you were there!

Where were you when my family thought I shouldn’t see you anymore? That’s right, you came around more and more and more. You made me feel that you were my only friend and sometimes that really was the case! Where were you? Always right there by my side and I always thanked you for that. Sometimes you really made me feel like shit but I just thought that was because I missed you.

We have had many breaks in our relationship over the years but you always managed to worm your way back in when I needed you the least. Again, and again you would make me feel that you were all I needed and that everything and everyone could go to hell because I had you and you HAD me! Often, I would meet people and I would introduce myself and they would explain that we had already met but that I had probably had a few too many and we we’d laugh it off, we’d laugh it off, inside I would laugh it off. I was fine, our special relationship was never a problem, fuck everyone else!

As I got into my 30’s you seemed to be coming around more frequently and more forcefully, you even introduced me to a lady who had a similar relationship to you as I did. This was great, the three of us could hang out and to hell with everyone else, we were all happy, of course we were. Until you started coming between us, I couldn’t tell who you loved more or who I loved more but, in the end, you won again and we marched along together. Councillors I didn’t listen to, magic pills to keep you away I stopped taking and family again I took no heed of. Job after job you screwed up for me and then one day you took someone very special from me! You took advantage of her mental health and you were never let me say goodbye but I let you back in, I should have hated you but, you were always there available when I needed you.

Most recently I had a wee family and my partner and I were expecting a little me and her and when we lost that beautiful unborn person, I blamed you and hated you, but turned to you all the same.

Now I am sat here in a safe place without you, you nearly took it all away. Friends, family, loved ones, my life, my sanity, my soul! Not anymore, no, I hate you and you mean nothing to me, I despise you and this is, the final goodbye!

 

Jim Weir

27th March 2020.

 

So, there we have it, not pretty eh? Buckle up and sit back, drink if you are going to drink, no judgement here but read and reread and take it all in and I hope you come to same conclusion as I did. Thank you for reading.

1.     Yesterday

 

My new birthday is the 16th March 2020, this was the day I stopped drinking, it was my first day of sobriety and it felt like shit, I was on 50mg of Librium to detox me and this I was administered 4 times a day. I was sat in bed trying to focus with no luck on some comedy on Netflix. I was trying to make myself feel better or feel something that wasn’t this god awful need for booze as I knew that that was the only thing that would sort me out at this point at any point, the same thing I had been doing for the past 4 weeks solid, with a tiny bit of attempted self-detoxes in-between, although I was still drinking wine or strong lager in order to bring me down.

           

This was it, I couldn’t function unless I had had at least a quarter bottle of vodka to stabilise me, I called it my sober level, my level so that I could manage simple things, like make some food or get myself in the shower or even tidy the house so that from the outset it looked like I was a decent human being, I wasn’t. I also wasn’t washing, feeding or taking care of myself generally, all I wanted or needed was vodka or some kind of booze to settle me. It would start with a quarter bottle, convincing myself that this was the last, I just needed it to stop the shakes or loathing feeling in my head. It was never enough, already after a drinking half of it, the panic would start to build, have a sip, try and make it last, why didn’t I buy a half bottle, sip again and it’s gone. I need to go back out to the 24hr garage, which was great as they would serve me at any point in a 24hr period, but only another quarter bottle of Glens of Chekov, the cheap ones, £4.50 for a quarter, a quarter would do it. It never did. At that price I was convincing myself that I would only have that, but it would have been cheaper to go straight to the half bottle or full bottle, but I guess I was trying my hardest to get out of this funk. I couldn’t do it, not on my own anyway.

           

Emma was amazing, she really did try and help me and many other people would have put me out a long time ago, that is the power of pure love. I know she always will, but whether or not we will get back together is something that I have no clue about at this point. She would try and help me detox, keep it from the kids and even get me some wine in the evening, if I had made it through a horrendous day or no booze and then we would share a bottle of red, had to be red, or some strong lager, just to take that edge off, maybe do this for three days and then I would be ok, feeling good, get back into the swing of things, of life. And then…

           

The cycle begins. I kid myself. I can have a beer with Emma, or we can have some wine. My last bout started on the 17th February 2020, we were on our way to the Isle of Man to see my parents, my brother, his partner and see my niece Hollie and my nephew Aidan who I have not met yet, he born in September and the Isle is not the easiest place to get to, especially in the winter. So, we set out, have had some nightmares with the car but all was seeming good. Car drove fine all the way from Willerby to Lancaster services, 30 minutes from Heysham port and disaster struck!

 

            The engine had dropped, we missed the ferry and had to wait for about 6 hours until we could get a tow back to Willerby, we were all, despite the circumstances in high spirits, our rescue man was fun, he played dance tunes for the kids and we were all having a sing along in the truck all the way home. When we were arriving home, Emma announced “I think we deserve a glass of wine after this ordeal!” My eyes lit up, don’t think I’d had a drink since my 40th the week before and so this was music to my ears, although at this point I was still trying to behave myself, I loved my little family and I’d even asked Emma if I had pulled through and got us back safely when faced with such a horrible event.

 

            I unpacked the car in rapid time and got myself to the garage to get a bottle of red, we drank that and laughed about our day. I suggested we get another, a little apprehensive Emma agreed, and then another. I remember this night as the last great night Emma and I had, we laughed we joked, we were happy, maybe it was the alcohol but we were happy.

 

            The next day Emma spent in bed as she was hanging, I decided as it was the school holidays, I would cut the grass and mess about in the garden with Molly, it was sunny. I also had been to the garage and gotten some vodka, hidden in my wee drawer in the shed. I would go and check on Emma, be attentive and look after her and have a giggle at how rough she was feeling saying things like “see it’s not easy this drinking game is it?” The fact was I had been feeling rough too but now I was on form, vodka was flowing through my veins but I was at my sober level and I had a good day. Molly and I had fun; Finn was happy on his Xbox.

 

            Now I am not too sure about the events of the next week, I think we went and took the kids out to a few different things, Mike probably came around and took them out but my drinking was starting to escalate again. Right up until the following week when Emma could see it and we fell out, I started sleeping downstairs and then Rob offered me an olive branch and I left on the 24th February.

 

            I had decided to pack my car up while Emma was at work and I had been drinking and it was horrible I wanted to get it done before she came home but she came home early and asked if I was really doing this and I was in my ‘mind is made up, drunken pig headedness’ Rob had offered me a place to crash, some work and I thought I could get myself back on track. I still loved Emma and the kids but I realise now that when I was drinking everything was everyone else’s fault but mine! The kids were to blame, Emma was horrible to me. All wrong. I remember Emma being in bits and so was I, I went to kiss her as she lay on the sofa sobbing and she pulled away and said “if you walk out that door there is no coming back”

 

            I walked out the door and put Poppy in the car and drove off.