At around 7am four years ago almost to this day, I came to a stark realisation of just how ill I had become. I had just consumed a good two litres of what is supposed to be strong cider, but more like battery acid. This had calmed my morning withdrawals and allowed me to dress myself.
At that time, I tended not to look at myself in the mirror as I was disgusted at what would look back at me. But almost by accident, as I walked out of the bathroom, I noticed something very different. Something that sent a shiver down my spine. The whites of my eyes were no longer white at all. They were now a dark and murky yellow.
By this point, my skin was completely yellow too, but I was literally oblivious to that. For some reason I had not noticed the change; perhaps because of the haze I was in from constant drinking and the length of time it had gradually changed colour.
Anyway, once I had noticed the change in my eyes, I knew that something was seriously wrong. I spent the next 6 hours or so trying to decide what to do. I eventually threw my last few mouthfuls of drink in a bin and with my last shred of hope, called an ambulance.
They took me to my local hospital at first and done some blood tests and scans and began to detox me, but as soon as the results were in, I was rushed to Kings hospital in London.
This was by no means my first rodeo in hospital, but my initial feelings when I noticed the colour of my eyes were unfortunately correct. I had never been moved to another hospital before. I was in big trouble. I had liver disease.
It was touch and go whether I would make it out of that hospital. My dad even offered to the doctors to give me half of his liver!
Through all this I showed little emotion. I had lost almost all hope. But my body, my family and the doctors and nurses hadn’t. And I will never be able to thank them enough for that. Collectively, they saved my life. Without them I might have given up.
So, speaking as someone who almost lost all hope, don’t let that be you. I was unbelievably lucky to have others around who didn’t lose hope for me. They pulled me through. Not everyone’s that lucky.
No addict is a lost cause. There is hope for everyone. That one time that you give up on someone could be the time that they were going to finally beat their demons.
Obviously its down to the individual to do it. It’s down to the individual to find the strength to maintain sobriety. But the hope of loved ones can go a hell of a long way. It did for me back in 2015 and it still does to this day.
Keep fighting, it is a battle that can be won. And keeping hope can have a big say in that.
Thank you so much for reading,
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