Tuesday Morning

I woke up still drunk from the night before. I was wearing my coworker’s name tag on the shirt I’d worn the day before and wasn’t wearing much else. “Oh, great, not again.” I didn’t remember much past nine p.m. the night before, but I know I’d eaten fish tacos. I was supposed to be at work within the hour and I knew the day was going to be hell.
It was eight a.m. and I was still drunk. The bad kind of drunk that didn’t feel good. But no kind of drunk was really feeling very good anymore these days… I needed a legitimate way to get out of going to work. My job was new and I’d already called is sick numerous times. One time I had been in the hospital for feeling suicidal, but they didn’t know that of course.
So kneeling on my bed I got an idea. I’d recently been to see my psychiatrist and had a fresh and shiny new bottle of Trileptal. I picked up the bottle and poured all the pills into my hand. What was so surprising was how easy it was to get them all down. Two swallows was all it took for 30 pills. This is when thing went bad.
Little, my blue tortoiseshell cat jumped up on my bed and wanted to play. I broke down and didn’t know what to do with myself. This remains one of the most heartbreaking moments of my entire life – and I’ve been through a LOT. She was so innocent and had no idea. She came up to me looking for love and attention and I was doing my best to be “on my way out.”
What a fucking asshole I was; to betray an innocent heart that relied so completely on me. Why did I not expect it? She jumped up to play with me every single morning without fail. Ah, my beautiful girl…
I alerted my cousin and she called 911. the EMTs were dicks and I ended up with a major infection in my arm from where they put in my I.V. and proceeded to no longer pay attention to me for the rest of the ride. Even though during that ride they gave me charcoal before they started shooting the shit with each other. So I puked on my I.V. site and got a huge infection. What great guys.
By the time I was in the ER I had photo phobia and was otherwise delirious. They gave me more charcoal through my nose and i ended up with charcoal vomit everywhere. they kept leaving me with nothing to use and so i had to use the floor and get chastised for it. I really didn’t give a shit, I could barely open my eyes and when i did everything was spinning harder that any acid trip or too much drink ever.
An elderly man died next to me. All I know is that they couldn’t revive him and he died peacefully. I never saw him or his family for I couldn’t open my eyes.
During the rest of my 72 hr hold I mostly kept to myself and my parents brow beat me into going into rehab for six weeks and my life changed dramatically. For the good.
For five years I didn’t drink and I never wanted to die. Even when my boyfriend committed suicide; I was a lunatic, but still ok.
Things aren’t so good now. my bad thought are back because I’m drinking again. I really need to stop.