I Had To Touch Death’s Door To Realize I Didn’t Want To Die

For the longest time, I wanted to die.

The depression and anxiety, combined with over a decade of alcoholism and addiction had led me to a point I considered as the point of no return.

I had no relationships besides with other people on drugs, no money, no job, and my overall health (mental and physical) was exponentially getting worse.

My only friend was pain and they never left my side.

One thing I’ve always had in my life was hope. No matter how bad things were going I had hope that one day, things would change.

However, going through years of rehabs, detox centers, psych wards, and hospitals and still not being able to quit drinking had removed all hope, the only thing that had kept me going for so long.

I had always believed I would be able to get sober but that changed.

I was starting to give in to the idea that I would never be able to get sober. Getting sober was too scary and painful for me to go through. It’s like dealing with ten years of trauma, shame, fear, guilt, and regret, all in one sitting.

Since I couldn’t get sober, but active addiction was too painful to continue, suicide seemed like the only logical alternative.

Fantasizing about dying became a coping mechanism for the pain. I would say to myself “At least if this gets any worse I can kill myself.”

It was like I new I had an off button I could press if the pain became too much.

Now, with over two months sober, I am so grateful that I didn’t push that button.

My father always says I have learn my lessons the hardest way possible and he’s right.

The only way for me to ever quit drinking was to get to a point where drinking alcohol was so destructive to my life that the pain from continuing drinking was less painful than getting sober.

This change began when a mixture of benzos and alcohol drove me insane and I woke up in the psych ward, what I refer to as my rock bottom.

When I woke up in the psychiatric ward, the only person in my life who hadn’t given up on me, my dad, wouldn’t answer my calls or pick me up from the hospital.

I was crushed. My dad and my dog were the only reasons I had fought to stay alive for so long. Since my dog would stay with my dad, I lost the two closest things to me in the world.

I was also massively in debt and had no money, food, or a place to live, things couldn’t have gotten much worse. I wished I had just died in my sleep from the benzos and alcohol. That seemed way less painful than continuing with my life.

As I lay on my tiny hospital bed, trying to decide if I was going to kill myself or continue with my life, I realized I didn’t want to die, I just didn’t want to continue living the way I had been.

I had an epiphany of sorts. I wanted a life, I just didn’t want my life.

From that moment on I decided I’d do anything to change and not have to live this way anymore.

I had to accept that things weren’t just going to suddenly change and it would take a massive amount of effort, pain, and time for me to change my life, but I was finally ready.

I’ve had just as many failures as I’ve had successes in my sobriety journey, it’s not easy.

I’ve had several relapses, I self-isolated for months, and I went through several depressive episodes from hell, but it was all worth it to get to where I am now.

There have been two chapters in my life.

Life before I hit rock bottom.

My life now.

I had to finish the first chapter before I could finally get to the second, more uplifting chapter, where the protagonist conquers their demons and becomes the hero they were always meant to be.

So here's to chapter two, I can’t wait to see what’s in store.