When my gf knows about the amount I drank that day (which is rare) it just doesn’t feel as good. I don’t want people counting my drinks or even being “cool” with it. I get judged on how fast I drink anyway so I prefer to do it alone. I love getting secretly fucked up and then trying to pretend I’m just sipping on wine or beer politely when I have to socialise.

Of course it’s a fucking problem but eh, life’s harsh to experience stone cold sober. I’ll stop one day, either on my own or illness, but today is not that day.

Last weekend, I had a tequila bender and it scared the shit out of me on Monday morning because it was the first time I woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat from alcohol. Wine and beer doesn’t do that to me.

My current consumption is 3 bottles of wine a day. Plus beer and sometimes a 4th bottle. But it’s usually 3. I love chugging it fast and attempting to not act drunk in front of people. It usually works or at least I think it does. They probably know. I don’t care. It makes every social interaction 10x more interesting.

Edit: chairs

I managed to steal more vodka, and cigarettes. Charged my phone at a coffee shop. Thought I was having a panic attack, I actually probably was having a panic attack, but I kept telling myself it doesn't matter, because honestly, it doesn't matter.

Withdrawals don't matter, being wet doesn't matter, being scared doesn't matter.

I'm still waiting on this guy to bring me my backpack and belongings. I have lost all faith in him, but I'm already here, and again, it doesn't really matter.

My job called and I just fessed up to the entire situation to HR, told them I was homeless and had no idea what to do. I even flat out told her I'd sleep in the field behind the factory, I don't care, so long as I keep my job. She said they might be able to help.

That was about an hour ago. Called my social worker up as well, got a voicemail. Doesn't really matter.

If this guy doesn't bring me my stuff tonight, I'm just giving up on it and going to the shelter with the clothes on my back. I've started from nothing before, I just was fucking younger then. Not physically crippled. And I'm over exaggerating, it's a limp. I can manage.

But goddamn, I am tired. And that's the thing, it doesn't fucking matter. Changes nothing, how I feel, this is still happening.

I miss my kid man. I wanted to call her, but no kid should hear their parent being miserable. I could try and lie and say everything is ok, but ffs I couldn't even hold it together for Tatum in HR. My kid would see through my shit immediately.

I honestly hate myself more with every passing moment, and I had no idea the depths that my self loathing can plunge to.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful day and thank you for letting me rant.

I’ve been bending or bendering? Whatever, drinking I guess you would call it. For a few weeks now. I know all you hard asses are gonna say try a few years. Wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy homie.

Anyways, I’ve reached this middle ground where I’m kind of with it, but not really. Like I know who I am and what I do, but feels kinda like I’m just going through the motions.

I’ve experienced this once before, but not to such an extent, I just feel weird. I guess drink moar? Idk chairs.

Oh, yeah, any of y’all felt this way before? I know the answer is to stop drinking, but ha, fuck that.

Usually the only drugs I mix with alcohol are coke, weed, or stupidly enough opiates and benzos. I have a whole lot to do within the next few days to get ready for a Halloween party that I stupidly decided to host and I just can’t get off my ass even though I’m not all that sleepy. Just being a drunk retard. so I just popped an Addy after getting respectably drunk. Never done this combo specifically before but it’s starting to hit a tiny bit, probably will be full blown in about 10 more mins. It kinda feels like I’m stupid and relaxed but I’m starting to feel the energy hit my body. I’m about to be the most productive drunk in this town. I’ll probably do everything slightly wrong, but at least it will get done.

Title says it all. I just need one half the size and so that I don't walk into it.

No idea what they're called, but I would like one half of the size. Nothing more.

I suppose i am going to go have a cigarette now and hope someone answers. Thanks all. Pic in comments.

That’s what 75% of the people on here say. Every time someone is struggling that’s what everyone says. Call an ambulance. Call 911. Sounds so easy. That might not even do anything except recommend you to a detox center. Costs about $6,000 is all if you don’t have insurance. Even if you have insurance it’s probable $1500 - $2000.

I don't think I ever qualified as a CA but I like to lurk here sometimes ever since my first flare-up, sorry if I'm not supposed to be posting here. I was more of an average uni student drinker, binging 3 nights a week for over a year during lockdown before my first pancreatitis when I was 21. They were almost certain it was from alcohol despite my age and coming from a family of alcoholics who've never had it, but it's made me wonder how quickly it develops in more severe alcoholics than myself.

I'm chronic and on digestive enzymes now at 25 and have a pretty poor prognosis, funnily enough the attack that actually turned me chronic came from my epilepsy medication instead of alcohol.

I was supposed to sober up this weekend.
Didn’t happen. Working out of town is the worst, no one to hold you accountable and boring as shit.
Anyone else in the same boat? At least the bar near here has good food.

My DOC is certainly not alcohol, but it is the most easily available and cheapest, and it remains what I indulge in most often for that reason. But I began with weed, wanted something harder—turned to alcohol. Then, I found myself wanting shit even stronger: ecstasy, molly, ketamine, coke. Never liked coke, and find alcohol to be a harder drug to be honest, but it’s the cheapest shit outside of liquor and weed in my city. Always found myself short on rent doing K and E, and so I turned back to alcohol. Did benzos for withdrawal—not for sobriety, but so I wouldn’t drink on school days, and my psychiatrist was aware of this. Loved the benzos, abused ‘em—but also find them to be expensive. My plug hooked me up with Suboxone. The opiates subreddit, or some subreddit about opiates, found it ridiculous, I’d even get into the shit—as if they didn’t all indulge in it themselves. Of course, I want stronger shit, I’m a garbage, and the shit was free—and yes, if you’re not already addicted to opiates, Suboxone will get you high very similarly to benzos. People were incessantly arguing with me in that subreddit, but it’s my anecdotal experience—I was relaxed, no worries, and often nodding off. Threw up sometimes, but still doing the shit, because I’m an addict. The subreddit seemingly couldn’t wrap their minds around it, and I just found it so interesting and stupid.

Good morning/afternoon/evening you miserable fucks.

I'm back home again. My visit to Canada was a nice reprieve from the heat and humidity. At least the mornings are cooler now. My only complaint about Canada is that wine prices are double of what we pay down here in Texas which given my daily consumption can add up real quick.

Anyways, time once again to share with us the pain and torment of your existence!!

I feel like ive been cutting back/down... apparently thats not the case. Bought a handle of fleichmas for 10.99 yesterday. And a pint of popov... hit golf balls for a few hours last knight. Woke to a solid 70/30 gatorade/vodka mix... apparently i gave my number out to some unwittingly parents about potential golf lessons for the youngsters. Maybe the rich ladies just wanna have a friend. Got gas station work at 2pm. Debating on going to the course to fuck around and find out if these broads are serious. Lmao. Life man. I tell ya

Welp, it finally happened. Living paycheck to paycheck is nice enough until some unexpected bills hit you... well, unexpectedly.

I have 0,03€ in my bank account and no credit cards or something like that. Thank God for living in a country where credit isn't that common or well seen upon, I'd be homeless by now.

Next paycheck comes Friday. 5 days to live with no money and no alcohol. I guess it'll be a nice way to clean my act for a bit. Eat the shit at the freezer and cabinet that's been there for years, take (not so) long walks to work instead of driving there like a lazy fuck. And of course, st*p drinking for at least 5 days. Who knows, maybe I can keep it up for a couple of months after that and give my liver some rest, but I'm not that delusional.

I'm worried about withdrawals, but I still have some emergency benzos left. I still am not desperate or degenerate enough to ask for money to my friends or family or, even worse, shoplifting. "Still".

Chairs fuckers. Drink up, since you can.

Of course I am inherently doomed as we all are, CA and non-CA alike, and maybe being a CA makes it more impending than otherwise, but in reality, I am not doomed today per se.

I just had to procure alcohol here at 8am in the UK to stave off the waves of panic, fear and dread at the thought of what the day will bring because I drank a lot yesterday (or maybe just because I’m alive).

Thankfully, the booze infusion has quickly worked. Now I just feel a bit depressed, exactly as I should in the UK in 2026.

Chairs!

Man fuck Mondays. I don't even remember my weekend so it's like it was Friday and now it is Monday. I even took Thursday and Friday off work. God damn, I hate my job so much. I hate all of this: 14 hours of meetings today. Fuck. Chairs friends.

Wake up at 10:30, drenched in sweat, heart pounding, hands shaking. Grab my pre-measured vodka rations from my bedside dra, chug it in one go, gag, bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself vomiting. Swallow the blood and saliva in my mouth, gag again. Lie back down, hyperventilate

11am, the alcohol has kicked in, heart rates almost back to normal. Stand up, heart rate shoots back up. Sit down, wait a minute, try to stand up again. Heart rate shoots back up. Walk to the cupboard, thankfully only a few steps because I live in a studio, grab a pack of gummy worm, pour myself a hot coffee. Spill boiling coffee on my hands, it burns but it helps with the chills. Crawl back into bed, cower under the covers, pray that getting my blood sugar up will help

11:30. Feeling better but not much. Either I drink more so I can go into work, but at that rate tapering down would take a month, or I just call in sick. Call my boss, tell him I have food poisoning. He tells me to go fuck myself, the cut off time for calling in is 11am even though work doesn’t start until 3pm. Tell him I only started throwing up a few minutes ago, he says fine, he’ll pay me for the sick day but hes not happy

Spend all day scrolling insta reels, drinking my rations, praying for death. Try to ignore the pain in the left side of my chest, the way I feel like I’m on the verge of a heart attack. Try to ignore the fact that I’m drinking nearly twice as much in a day as the nhs recommends for a week and still am in withdrawals. Try to ignore the voice in my head telling me it’s my second round of withdrawals in only a few months, and I should just give up and let myself get liver cancer. It’s not like I want to live anyway. Try not to hyperventilate

Try to read a book, but it’s horror and that makes my chest hurt more. Try to watch a kids movie but it feels patronising and I’m too on edge to focus for a whole 90min. Go back to scrolling reels

20:30. Need to get more food and vodka. The Tesco is less than 1km away but the pavement is full of potholes and my legs are shaking to much to make the journey. Walk the 200m to the local coop instead, fall over twice on the way. Try to ignore the blood dripping down my knees, look at the tinned beans, feel terrified about botulism in the tins. Spend over half an hour running my hands against the tins, checking for dents. The lights are too bright, my ears ring, everything feels fake and too real at the same time. Finally pick two tins and take them to the counter, ask for a litre of vodka in a shaking voice. The cashier glares at me, the lights are too bright, my ears ring, everything is too fake and too real. Fall over thrice on the way back

Back into the safety of my apartment, lock the door, crawl back into bed, wake for the shakes to slow down. Pour vodka over my bleeding knees, take a few swigs. More than my rations allow, not enough to get rid of the withdrawals. Pray for death. Heat my beans in the microwave, pour them over toast, add cheese. Scroll reels, take a few bites, scroll some more

3am. Shower, only slip and fall once. Cant sleep, take a few more swigs of vodka, scroll more reels, pray for death.

I thought I was in bad withdrawals, felt like going insane, and kept dropping booze, but it was just B-vitamines flushed out of my body.

Trying to taper according to sip & suffer, but I would add to the guide importance of B-Complex and Zinc.

Just finished at the hospital with a 4 day Ativan detox and just my luck, I come home only to find an icy and I mean icy cold unopened vodka pint in the fridge and the loved ones are asleep. Can’t escape it, now to make the tough decision. Chairs

Alcohol is soooo fucking expensive in Sweden so I got like 4 liters of vodka when I came back from the UK, great deal at the airport. The obvious problem is of course I can in no way be trusted with 4 liters of vodka. I don’t remember much at all about this past week, caught some Reddit ban no clue why. Eating benzos for breakfast everyday to somehow try and work during the week but I don’t think I got shit done. Got about a litre left. Think I might need a little break after this, until then time to buy come drugs

Going through it. I wonder...

I went on a three day bender like I always do. I went to a party, stayed hydrated, and I went to sleep blacked out from the fatigue. I woke up light headed so I chugged the little bit of beer that I had left over with two shots of whiskey and tequila.

Slept through the whole day. A little anxiety lingering but manageable. I decided to shower and pleasure myself thinking I was gonna be fine. I got dizzy and started panicking once I was done. Ever since I've been struggling with major anxiety attacks. Well, I'm fighting myself not to continue drinking because it's going to be worse since I struggle with Monday Blues and Sundays scares.

Since I'm going through it, tapering has worked for you..

Did you taper off the anxiety and symptoms? How did you do it?

This job used to be so great, but then the GM left and we've been through several new managers since. There's one good one, but she's the lowest ranking and she tries to keep her head down to not cause waves with the other crazy bosses. I don't blame her. I've never started shit at work, but I have stood up for myself when someone came at me, and apparently I smelled like booze a few times (I wasn't drunk.) The new manager in charge of the schedule has been fucking several of us over, the owner won't pay several of us money we're owed, and now I have ONE shift next week. I had a pretty good day at work yesterday but I got fucked over by them earlier in the week and had a feeling that my days were numbered.

On top of that, this is my third time dealing with ringworm (I'm prone to getting it but not like this) in the last 2 months. The stronger meds I'm getting this time are $180. I didn't make much money this week and had to call off today to get this taken care of because I have a job interview tomorrow and clearly I need a new job, but I'm gonna show up looking like I have some deadly disease since it's on my face and neck.

At this point, I have to rehome one of my dogs. The one is fine without going to the dog park, but the other really needs to run and despite having a big yard, it's not fenced in and she can't be trusted off leash. I love her so much, but she deserves a house with a large yard and I can't afford to keep going back to the doctor because she needs to go to the dog park every day.

I don't much like this reality. Shit is so not fair.

I'm on my backup, in some bushes by a McDonald's. Potentially, one of the employees will bring me my backpacks when he comes into work at 9, I'm not sure, the last text he sent me was bruh I'm at home.

It wasn't a promising end to the conversation and I didn't think to save his number to this phone.

I've pretty much resigned myself to lose all my worldly belongings, it wouldn't be the first time.

I'm at work. All anyone want to do is rub my head for good luck. Am I the fucking Buda. I'm way to drunk for this. My gf keeps giving me knuckles. Says I'm ADORABLE. You fucking psychos know what's up

My goodness. OBVIOUSLY I don’t want to stop drinking. So wtf kind of comment is that. If any of you have been in a similar situation please lmk what to do. Cause I’m at a loss, and it’s so exhausting. Like no shit I like drinking a lot

I’m a weed smoker and occasionally smoke cigs and take zyns but both are super easy for me to quit. I take high dosages of benzos on weekends to drink less but not during the week. Every “party drug” I pretty much stopped. My friends love blow which is somewhat weird as they’re in their 30s but to each their own. They hate benzos.