FROM ADDICTIONS TO LIFE PART 11 ALCOHOL (3)

First Attempts To Quit Booze

“You got rid of school, now it’s time to do the same with alcohol. It shouldn’t be a problem since you already quit Speed, Weed and Cigarettes”

Those were the words I kept repeating to myself, when I started fighting my addiction to alcohol for the 1st time.

The problem was that booze wasn’t like anything else I’ve  previously dealt with and fighting my addiction to it, had nothing to do with the feelings I had for it.

Making the simple decision of quitting, was just not enough, therefore my addiction wasn’t going anywhere.

I clearly remember the very well pronounced feel in my throat and strong need to have it after certain time of the day. Both of them were
making me feel like a “puppet” to the bottle of poison.

Despite all the crazy stuff I did during my puberty, I felt so unprepared to deal with this one.

Even thought I surrendered quitting it for a while, I managed to do some adjustments to the horrible habit.

Instead of starting at 5 or 6pm, I was no longer drinking before 9pm.  That way I was able to scratch for a couple of extra hours.

Mostly sticking to beer, I also drastically reduce the heavy stuff.

Getting drunk, still was the way of how my days were ending. But getting wasted wasn’t.

Apologies were no longer required, and I was remembering everything on the next day.

To me that was a giant step.

My 6th sense was strongly suggesting me that doing good in the upcoming competition would make some major difference to me.

Even though I wasn’t sure what exactly, thinking about it and about the art of scratch by itself, was giving me an awesome and warm feel.

I also had to make sure, Mom haven’t spend those money for nothing.

After all she did that regardless of the fact that the person who appears to be my other biological parent told her: He’d divorce her if she buy me decks.

On top of everything she did that And she did it 3 times.

With my first Numark (belt drive) turntables. With the Vestax PDX. And finally with the Technics 1210’s…

I entered the competition and I got 2nd. Probably it doesn’t sound as much, but to me it changed more than I expected.

For the first time in my life, I started carrying about myself and my body. Because I was actually making things happen without the help of drugs.

Plus that I won “The Mixer” I always wanted to have, but back then I couldn’t afford.

Instead harming it, I wanted to protect my body, at least because I needed it to work properly for upcoming battle on the next year.

The Breaking Point (The Last Real Life Story)

It was the summer of 2008…

I purchased my first MacBook and a person brought it from U.S.,but I had to pick it up from another city.

Me and that very dear to me back then person went there. He had some business to take care of and I had to get my laptop.

I got the laptop and everything was fine, until I got drunk. Then I stumbled while holding a bottle of beer in my hand.

Obviously the bottle broke and the pieces of glass cut my hand. There was a lot of blood and I didn’t know where I was. Yet, the worst was that there were some pieces of glass in my hand.

While my friend was doing his thing, I was hanging with 2 girls. Both of them were bad as hell.

While I was talking to the 1st, the 2nd was holding her gaze on me.  With a smile and enthusiasm, she ( the 2nd) was responding to everything I was saying.

She was even like: “No worries, blood is not a problem. I actually even like blood. It’s awesome”

In that moment, I had absolutely no idea why the f*ck, that girl was telling me all of the stuff.

With a bandaged arm and blood on my oversized white tee, I was like:
“Yeah, whatever.”

Noting after her words, while I really didn’t care.

On the next day…

Back home with multiple pieces of glass in my hand, my parents took me to the hospital, where the doctors removed most of them.

Yes, most of them. Few others actually stayed there for good an year and a half…

It was very painful, because, in order to do it, they had to open the wound.

Before I left the place doctors told me, I was such a lucky bastard, because no important arteries were altered and that otherwise they had to do some surgery.

Later on that day…

While thinking what happened, I realized I was very close of saying goodbye to scratching.

I also came to the conclusion that the blood liking girl was actually hotter than one I was talking to.

And probably she was f*cking with me, since she was responded so eagerly to all of the bullsh*t I said.

At that point understood 2 things:

·How far things have actually gone;

·How stupid and blind, I was to underestimate the dangers, of the most life threatening (to me) drug, I’ve ever used -Alcohol;

Memories

Then my mind started projecting episodes from my past…

·My 2 visitations to the hospital in 5th grade;

·All of the times when it made me, if not completely unconscious, at least not knowing where I was (in those particular moments);

·All of the others which I’ll probably never remember;

·The accident with the bicycle and the woman at the park;

·The numerous cases when it made me puking, while having cold sweat, all over my body;

·Those scars on my forehead I got in a street fight with a fat MF, who’s no longer alive. (I told you we were about to cover that one too.)

·And finally, what just happened on the day before;

All of them because what?

Because of my stupidity:

To dare to believe that since something is not only legal and largely available, but also heavily promoted, than it couldn’t be that bad, after all.

Until that moment I thought that the more I loved a specific substance, the more difficult it would be for me to quit it. Yet, my mentality was wrong.

That moment of truth, made me have my first entirely sober days. I mean whole 24hrs and not just abstaining from it, until night time.

Abstaining from it fro 24hrs was way more difficult than I thought it could possibly be. And it took me months to be able to maintain just few consecutive sober days.

No, I’ve never been into any kind of rehab or program for addicts or heavy abusers.

What was helping me the most was my passion for scratching.  And of course my goal of not disappointing Mom and winning the upcoming DMC.

I felt like I was on a mission and until now think I that certainly was.

Getting better with scratching was not only  making me feel more confident, but for the first time I actually started liking myself.

I mean to to really enjoy being the person who was able to do all of those techniques.

Side note:  Even though those techniques very basic, I enjoyed the process of learning every single one of them to fullest.

They gave me the reason to really start f*cking with myself for the first time.

The more techniques I was learning, the better I felt about myself and the more I wanted to stay on the right path.

The longer I was staying sober, the more techniques I was learning.

My Perception About Me Changed

I couldn’t be that bad after all, since I was able to do all of those scratches.

For close to 1 year I had some devilish thirst, to maybe let it loose and have just few drinks.

It was chasing me all the time and on all sorts of places. There were many things which were making it stronger:

·The alcohol commercials;
·The bottles in the grocery stores;
·Other people who were drinking in front of my eyes;

Keeping my mind pre-occupied with scratching was my way of bypassing the negative influences of all of them.

No, it wasn’t like I never got drunk again, but now I was able to control it and it was getting less and less frequent.

Not more than few times a month,  it was only beer and I was remembering everything on the next day.

Yet, there was a voice in the back of my head, which kept telling me that quitting booze entirely, wasn’t really a good idea, because otherwise dating life and intimate contacts wouldn’t be possible.

As a hardcore sex addict, I was really concerned about it.

Then I reminded to myself the 2 things, which all of the hottest females with whom back then I slept, were never skipping to tell me after having sex with me.

·They hated my male boobs and excessive flesh;
·All of them preferred muscular guys with visible abs and v-tapers;

Deep inside me I knew that I wouldn’t need drugs nor alcohol if I build let’s say not awesome, but decent physique.

No, I’m not talking about fitness model or competitive bodybuilder kind of physique, but mostly referring to  “Making people turn heads when you’re in public type of a look”.

At that point I already wanted start messing with Bodybuilding.

Firstly because I’ve always admired the look of legends like Arnold and Serge Nubret. And secondly, because I really wanted to exchange the male boobs and the excessive flash for some muscle mass and flat stomach.

The problem was I did not have the confidence to step at the gym, because I thought the more advanced lifters (the big guy), would make fun of Me…

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