It was nearly 5 years ago that I woke up, yet again, on my bathroom floor. I was completely unable to remember how I got there and to my dismay my car was in the driveway - which meant I drove home again! Some of my drunk friends and I used to call experiences like this time traveling. It was our way of making light of a really serious predicament. But this morning was different. This time, I didn't think it was funny. This time it seemed serious. I felt like I'd been run over by a dump trunk. My stomach was in major revolt and I was expected at work in less than an hour.
Crawling to my bed I wondered how I'd let this happen again. I tried to search my memory for any hints about the night before. As usual, much of the evening was a blur. Disgusted with myself, I recognized how out of control I had become. I had reached the end of my rope. For the first time, smoking a joint to settle my stomach and making myself presentable for work wasn't an appealing option. I wanted help. I needed a change. I longed for freedom.
Blackouts, empty relationships, persistent vomiting, and life lived in a fog just weren't cutting it anymore. My priorities changed with the flush of a toilet.
It was nearly 5 years ago that I woke up. And I had no idea how crazy things were about to get.
