Charlie text me asking if I was coming to watch him shoot darts again tonight. I was busy at work, didn’t text him back right away. I had felt exhaustion early this morning, so I had taken a nap for about 2 hours. I was behind on my chores. I needed to make supper. My guilt won’t allow me to leave the house unless my chores are done & as long as I have made food to eat, warm up.
I changed my clothes and headed out the door. I knew Charlie, really just wanted me there to keep him company in a strange place. The same as I use him in his place. I know Charlie & I use each other for emotional support, selfishness needs and to understand each others childhood issues. He is an alcoholic, drug addict, gambler and sex addict. He has completely fallen off the wagon and is being dragged by it.
I walked inside our place. He’s playing the jukebox. I walk up to him and he slurs his words. He’s in slow motion. He whispers to me that he has taken two Xanax. One Xanax will knock me out for about 10 hours. I hate them things. I was given a bottle when I was first diagnosed with PTSD resulting from my motorcycle accident. I couldn’t sleep, I was afraid to leave the house, panic attacks. When I would take them I felt slow and numb. Having BPD I was not used to feeling. It freaks me out, I feel like I’m a zombie. Not to mention the lack of a sex drive. I wanted sex, but the desire, the urge was gone. No thank you. I tossed them in the trash. Never took Xanax again.
Charlie took two. TWO. Whole ones. In addition to the booze he was drinking. He had text me around 3pm. It was 5:30 and he was already slurring and could hardly walk.
He dragged me around the floor dancing to Mexican music, which he loves when he’s reliving or remembering his childhood trauma. Since he’s been staying with his mother, I could see his triggers in neon lights in his head. He was bouncing from his different friends. I sat at the table in the corner. After I got totally irritated with the bartender who didn’t take my order. I had my money in my hand when he made eye contact with me, but walked to the other side of the bar. I looked other there and watched him serve the others, but not me. I briefly thought that Charlie might have told him not to serve me, but I don’t think Charlie would do that to me. I watched Charlie stumble to the bathroom and I thought to myself “Leave! Leave now. You don’t need this. You are not his babysitter.”
When he came out of the bathroom, he walked over to the end of the bar. I heard a loud thud. I couldn’t see at first. I stood up and looked in Charlie’s direction. I looked at the rest of the drunks who were sitting at the bar stand up to look where the noise came from. A few of them turned at looked at me, I decided at that moment I was leaving. I felt like I was having a heart attack. My chest hurt to breath and I wanted to cry. I seen pieces of my childhood when Charlie on the floor. I won’t cry in public, Charlie and the bartender turned to look at me as I walked past them. I smiled at Charlie. He probably thought I was headed to the bathroom, but I walked out the back door of the bar.
I sat in my car, thinking. How will you feel if this is the time he dies? Can you live with yourself knowing you left him like that? I know what happens to addicts if they do not get sober. They die, go insane, end up in prison. Death has tried to take him a few times, he always manages to come back from the brink. Prison, well he will find out at the end of the month if he goes to prison (for two years). My fear is that he will end up dead, falling and busting open his skull once again.
Seeing Charlie tonight breaks my heart to see him in such pain, to see him vulnerable to his actions.
About an hour after I was home & writing the above, my phone rang. It was him. Crying & whining on the phone about how I left him, how he loved me, how sorry he was and how the bar he was at wanted to kick him out for being obnoxious. He pleaded with me to come and bring him my darts because he had to use bar darts. My heart ached, only because I didn’t want anything more to happen to him. I drove there only to see him, stumbling around, itching for a fight, being annoyed with other people. He didn’t want to be touched by the other guys in the bar. I could hug him, caress his face but when ever a man got to close he became on edge. His friends were telling me about the fight he had the night before, how he is starting to spiral once again. It’s the alcohol. His mother is an alcoholic, suffers from mental illness and drug addiction. He father died from alcoholism. He father had been estranged from everyone in his family. I told Charlie, that’s his future. He needs help. I can’t force him, I know that. I haven’t been there when he has been beaten & broken. I have been there to help balance out his demons with mine. My fear is that if he dies as a result of the alcohol, a part of me will die with him. Because I often thought if I could understand some of his demons then I can understand mine.
Over time, excessive alcohol use, both in the form of heavy drinking or binge drinking, can lead to numerous health problems, chronic diseases, neurological impairments and social problems, including but not limited to:
- Dementia, stroke and neuropathy
- Cardiovascular problems, including myocardial infarction, cardiomyopathy, atrial fibrillation and hypertension
- Psychiatric problems, including depression, anxiety, and suicide
- Social problems, including unemployment, lost productivity, family problems, violence including child maltreatment, fights and homicide
- Unintentional injuries, such as motor-vehicle traffic crashes, falls, drowning, burns and firearm injuries.
- Increased risk for many kinds of cancers, including liver, mouth, throat, larynx (voice box) and esophagus
- Liver diseases, including fatty liver, alcoholic hepatitis, cirrhosis
- Gastrointestinal problems, including pancreatitis and gastritis
- Alcohol abuse or dependence – alcoholism. Facts about Alcohol