Part Four: A Bottle of Soco and a Pick Up Truck

“So, I’m gonna live my life like it’s my last damn night. When the clock strikes twelve, we’re all gonna go to hell”

Last Damn Night – Elle King

The first time I black out is definitely a night to remember, or rather a night to forget. It’s 2nd semester freshman year and I am with my two of my best friends at the time. Eddy is an RA in my building and old enough to have alcohol in his room. He has a massive crush on me and therefore, let’s me get away with more than I should. As the night begins, I’m three shots deep in Sothern Comfort, picking songs from the Across the Universe Soundtrack on the iPod. The next thing I know, I’m sitting in truck parked with my friend Christy, in a bowling alley parking lot an hour away, uncontrollably sobbing about my past. What just happened? Why am I here? What am I even saying?

Up until this point, I thought I was drinking alcohol to help me be more fun, funnier, and happier. I didn’t realize I was also using alcohol to cope with life’s trials and tribulations. It is something that I will continue to do as my drinking progresses.

It took me a long time to correlate the worsening of my depression and anxiety to the amount of alcohol I drank. “Sad Brooke” is definitely a character of her own. She is helpless and has extremely low self esteem. She is needy and clingy and views life as painful, cruel, and unfair. She wants to just sleep through life.

As far as I was told, my blackout was one of epic proportions. I did not have just three shots. I had 10 shots and only weighing 108 lbs at the time, I’m lucky I didn’t die from alcohol poisoning. My friends told me they didn’t realize how drunk I was until I knocked back my final shot. I walked over to the bed, turned around and yelled “I’m fucked up!” I then proceeded to throw myself onto the bed backwards, hitting my head on the cinder block jail cell wall of the dorm room.

Eddy had a meeting he needed to be at and Christy had to go to a viewing for her friend’s grandmother. They didn’t want to leave me in the room by myself (smart decision), so I went with Christy to the viewing. Getting me down the elevator, through the main lobby of my dorm, and out to her truck proved to be more difficult than she was hoping. In my drunken state, I thought everyone I saw was my long lost friend; I was happily waving, yelling “heyyyyyyyy I know you!! You live in my buidling!!” to almost everyone we passed, walking like my legs were made of jell-o.

Off we go to the viewing, Christy is running in and out to continously check on me every few minutes. I apparently want to go in and offer my condolences but considering the state I am in, she is probably worried I will mistake the casket for a bed and try to crawl in causing a bit up of upset amongst the family. Right as we are about to leave, I tell her I am going to get sick and I stumbled out of the truck. I make it two steps outside, throw up all over her shoes and start crying.

After coming to and calming down around 2am she drives me back to her house, and sneaks me inside as her parents sleep. The next thing I remember is hearing banging on her bedroom door at 6am and her mother telling her to get up for school.

Waking up still drunk and hungover is not an unusual thing for me but waking up to the world’s loudest and most obnoxious mother after being blacked out drunk is a feeling that can only be described as worse than hell. Christy gets herself together and attempts to clean me up so I don’t look like I’ve just got dragged by a bus down town, through the gutter in the pouring rain. I sneek outside the back of her house, the blinding light of the morning sun feels like someone has taken a needle and shoved it straight through my eye. I am so dehydrated that my limbs felt like human paper weights.

This hangover is unlike any I had ever experienced. Christy skips school with me and takes me to a beautiful state park. We walk over to the end of a small stream and sit down. “I am so sorry about last night, thank you for taking care of me” I whisper. “It’s ok. I’ve blacked out before too. It’s scary. I just wanted to make sure you were ok”. Ok? I’m not ok. I can’t remember 5 hours of my life. How did I let this happen?? No more Soco for me, never again. And no more blacking out. I vow to myself to never get that drunk again.

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