The Hooper (shudder....!)

Ok, so today I've made up my mind that (for real,) I can't drink anymore...probably ever again. I'm one of those unfortunate people who has a really tough time judging limits...and last night, I found myself in the horrible detox center known as The Hooper; believe me, you do not want to end up there! I might even go to a few AA meetings to set myself straight, not that I drink everyday or anything, but when I do drink, I binge drink hardcore...

The sad thing is, I even gave myself a limit last night, as I was buying a giant bottle of wine, I told myself I could have "one or two..." I was going to a little party to celebrate moving into "second year class," at my midwifery school. I didn't have any dinner because I was busy brewing homemade dandelion wine (yeah, won't be drinking any of that when its' done,) and I figured since it was a dessert party, I'd have plenty to eat there.

Instead, I got smashed. One or two glasses turned into four or five (I lost count,) while I listened to my classmates comiserate about this class and that teacher and so forth, and then, about about eleven, I decided to leave, since I had to work in the morning. My classmates asked if I was ok, I assured them I was, and went to wait for the bush. I don't remember laying down on the ground, but at some point I puked (a lot,) and then the next thing I knew I was laying on the ground and a group of people had gathered around me, asking me if I was ok. I was thinking "hu...I wonder...am I?" This is a strange thought to have; I guess maybe I blacked out for a minute, because the only other time I can remember not being sure if I was ok or not was when two two-by-fours fell off of a ten-foot roof onto my head, breaking my nose and knocking me out. That time, I woke up in a pool of blood, (let me tell you, that is a scary thing!,) with people around me asking if I was ok. That time too, I thought "am I ok? The blood would make me think "no..."'

Anyway, the people who stopped where well-meaning (especially the girl, who kept rubbing my back and talking to me, although I can't remember anything she said.) Anyway, as nice as they where, they thought the best thing to do would be to call the cops (I guess before ending up in The Hooper, that's what I would have done as well.) In fact, just about a week ago, I ran into a drunk bum laying on the sidewalk and I asked him if I should call the cops or an ambulance and he rejected both ideas, and now I'm glad I didn't...in fact, I'd say karma brought me to The Hooper last night, since I sort of laughed at that guy. Anyway, at least I didn't send that guy there; what a horrible place!

The cops handcuffed me and threw me in the back of the car; at that point, I was too drunk and too tried to even care...but it pissed me off a little that they took such a long time to finally get going. Apparently sometime before the cops handcuffed me I tried to call my sister (this I do not remember either,) which wouldn't have done me any good, since she lives in Ohio at the moment, she informed me that I had tried to call her the next morning.

At The Hooper, the staff (who actually where remarkably nice to me, probably since they are more used to dealing with folks who aren't cooperative,) took my shoes off, took my earrings out, took my ring and cell phone, apparently taking anything I might be able to hurt myself with? I thought that was strange, but again, I was too drunk to protest. I was then lead to a little room where a woman slept snoring on the floor...the cement floor. The room had a toliet behind a little divider, a table and little stools bolted to the floor and dried puke on the table and on the floor. They locked the door behind me. I lay down on the floor as well and slept as well as I could, considering that there was a man in the room next to us apparently banging his head against the cement wall because we could hear a staff person trying to reason with him to get him to stop. Someone in another room screamed on and off throughout the night. The room was stiflingly hot and I wanted something to drink terribly, but everytime I thought of this, none of the staff was around to ask. At some point the lady sleeping on the other side of the table asked for some crackers and ate them very loudly. She also kept using the toliet and flushing it, and that was also extremely loud. At some point, one of the staff came by and yelled, "since the two of you are cooperating and seem to be sobering up, you'll be let out at 5:30..." This was awsome news, because it meant I could still make it to work...a fact that one of the men near us was also apparently happy about, since he had been yelling earlier about how he needed to get out to go to work.

Anyway, the next morning (5:30 am,) when they turned all the lights on and began turning semi-sober people back to the streets, I got a chance to talk to the woman who had so annoyed me with all of her noise. Come to find out, she'd left a domestic violence siduation a few years ago and had spiraled down to where she was now; a homeless alcoholic. She told me that oddly enough, the staff of The Hooper had found $6 in her belongs and had offered to let her out temporarily to walk across the street to the Plaid Pantry to buy a six-pack. She said they knew she was an alcoholic and that she might go into seizures without alcohol; nevertheless, I find it odd that a detox center would encourage a known alcoholic to use her last $6 to go buy booze! She refused, deciding instead to actually detox at least overnight. We both heard the staff questioning the man next to us who had been bashing his head against the wall; they where asking if he knew where he was, if he'd been using psychedelic drugs or meth reciently. The homeless lady turned to me and said "I know I drink too much, but I don't do things like that..." She was clearly concerned for the man in the cell next to us.

Anyway, despite my terrible night, I made it to work on time and actually after a short nap on the employee couch, I feel great. I think part of feeling great is my realization that I never want to be in a siduation like this again, and so, therefore, I need to put this dark part of myself aside for good. I'm going to go to a few AA meetings, ask my classmates to remind me not to drink, and avoid places where alcohol is the primary focus. This is also why I am shaming myself online, in front of my devoted readers: I feel the need to be honest about this problem and show that as cool as I am and despite all the good I try to do for the world and people, I don't always treat myself with as much kindness; in fact, I'm often downright terrible to my own body and psyche. I realize I cannot be a midwife and help other people take good care of themselves if I myself, do not take good care of myself.

Love ya,
Carrot