Starting over.

This post is to make clear events that have happened recently, and so that people hear it from me first, and hear the whole story.


Saturday night, I was sent to the hospital emergency room due to alcohol intoxication.

My apartment was having a dinner party, and someone brought Fireball whiskey. Which was my favorite. Until I had way too much and started throwing up. Not just a little bit, for hours. It was the worst time of my life, it was excruciatingly painful and I imagine that's what death might feel like. I had so much, that even when I had emptied my stomach, I kept dry-heaving, my body trying to rid myself of the alcohol. My mommy was trying to give me liquid through an eye-dropper, but it caused me to retch even more. I couldn't stop.

On top of all of this- and this is killing me to admit- I was on a really bad edible high as well. A few hours earlier, I had taken a chocolate with marijuana someone had gave me. It wasn't right, though. I have gotten high before, but this was wrong. It was terrifying. Being sick to the point were I can't even breathe and my mind is spinning is the scariest thing.

I hardly remember anything. I remember throwing up, my wonderful neighbor holding me and comforting me, and my mom and dad being there. I don't remember going to the hospital, them giving me medicine or checking me in. I don't even know what the doctors and nurses look like. All I remember is the IV in my arm and them calling my friend, because I really wanted to talk to him. As a glimpse how bad this really was, I told the nurse I wanted to hurt myself, and my friend said I was shrieking in the phone background.

I'm still so scared. If it wasn't for having a couple people present and the medicine that make the dry-heaves stop, I doubt I would of make the night. They gave me two bags of fluid in night I was there. It's surreal thinking how bad this situation was.

It was a reality-check. I'm still in pain, my ribs feel ripped apart. My stomach muscles hurt insanely bad, and I'm incredibly sensitive to foods and senses. The drugs are still in my system, I'm still weak from being so dehydrated. My head is fuzzy and it's hard to focus without wanting to zone-out.

So, I'm saying this because I'm in a very, open, vulnerable time in life. This is the hardest part to admit-

I need help.

Prayers, positive thoughts, whatever you find suitable. I need hugs, kisses, love, something. Depending on other people is not my thing, and all of this is very humbling. Asking you, my friends, lovers, family, for this kills me. But I need to learn I can't do this alone.

Thank you for reading.