I'm not one for revealing anything about myself to people, let alone the internet, but my life right now dictates this as possibly the most important decision I could make. Just thinking about the events of this past year make me want to stop right now, but if I don't tell about it, I may never get the chance. So, this written account and the followers of this blog will act as my witnesses.
Before I get too deep into that cryptic rhetoric that I abhor on other blogs, let me tell you something about myself. I grew up in the typical loving well-to-do of upper middle class family; a terrific Mom who did the normal amount of interfering, and a great Dad who was protector and occasional co-conspirator against Mom's interfering (Thanks Dad), and 2.4 kids (me, my little sister, my little brother). I count myself as the .4 in the group because I cannot remember the better part childhood or rather the worst part of my childhood.
For reasons unclear to me still, I began drinking alcohol at the age of 11. There are ten really fuzzy years in there filed with hallucinations, screaming, fighting, violence, doctors (regular and crazy ones) and sheer terror. Somehow, I managed my education, graduated, albeit late and got into a good school, finished pre-med in three years and am now studying forensic pathology.
The chapter of my life that was me as an adolescent alcoholic seemed to be over, yet I find myself back seeing my shrink (he hates that) and trying to stay sane. It seems if you were a "heavy" drinker, especially someone as young as I was, with a developing brain, you can suffer from ongoing visions, night terrors, all the fun stuff and that can mimic alcoholic hallucinosis. Lucky me.
The visions got stronger and more realistic as the days went by. My shrink tried to straighten me out, "try this drug, try that drug, try no drugs...etc." Eventually, I discovered the visions weren't hallucinations. I wished they weren't and that it was just some psycho-babble diagnosis or medical phenomenon but it wasn't -- it's not.
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