Shame + Alcohol

Just a few months into my freshman year of college, I drank so much alcohol that I passed out, threw up on myself, and was taken by ambulance to the hospital. My dorm friends had found me and called 911. This is something I’ve never wanted anyone to know. Just a few of my friends know, and my family because they got the insurance bill. I was mortified. I thought it made me look like such an idiot. A dumb girl, a damaged person, someone with no self-respect or dignity. 

Now all I feel when I think of 18 year old me is compassion. She made a mistake. And she was so hard on herself about it that she hid it. Not to mention she was subsequently given a hospital and ambulance bill, a Minor in Possession citation and put on probation at the school. She hid all of that, buried along with all the other shameful feelings and stories she carried about herself from childhood. This heavy pit of shame already lived in her chest, festering and frequently transmitting messages through the voice in her mind. Messages rooted in “I’m not good enough, I’m not lovable, I’m bad.” Thoughts she identified with and believed. Hence, the heavy drinking. Numbing all that shame was such a relief every time. Until the alcohol wore off of course. 

I can’t even tell you how many times I blacked out in college. While managing to keep almost straight As and smile for photos. I was fucking miserable. I had lost any sense of belonging and community from high school. I’d played on sports teams every season of every year of my life from T-ball at 5 years old until my senior year, and then bam, no sports and no teammates. No second family. I didn’t know how to love myself or take good care of myself. I was beyond lonely and so sad. I didn’t have any of the self care/mental health tools I have now. And I just look back and want to give that girl a hug. Tell her that she’s not bad and it’s not her fault. She was lost and needed help. I’m grateful that I can give her that love now.