2019-01-20 Punishment: Drinking & Depression Essay

I have recently learned that drinking and depression do not mix.  I have had problems in the past allowing myself to be carried away by the demons of alcohol.  However this time, I did it actively depressed.  Actually I drank when I felt flat out destroyed over a certain thing.   I didn’t impulsively do it.  I had a panic attack, I drove to the cemetery to ride it out.  Once I calmed down a bit, I went straight for the gas station and I bought my favorite bottle of red moscatto.  I didn’t want the whole bottle.  I just wanted a few glasses.  I knew I’d be awake all night dwelling over this.  I just wanted to sleep.  I just wanted it not to hurt anymore for a little while.  I just didn’t want to cry for a little bit.  What I didn’t think about in that moment is that I battle depression.  Lately I have been in a major downward spiral of depression, unable to grab ahold of it.  I also have bipolar disorder, and that brings a whole new level to depression.  Alcohol affects you in a physical, social, and emotional ways.  Mixed with depression it makes it a dangerous and possibly deadly combination.


When you drink, Alcohol can lower serotonin and norepinephrine levels in your brain.  This is because alcohol is a depressant and has a sedative effect on your brain.  If you are already on anti-depressants or other psychiatric medications that alter the chemical levels in your brain, it could be extremely dangerous depending on how much you drink and the specific medication you are on.  A glass or two of wine may not be dangerous to a well-controlled depressed person.  When you are in a depressive episode your chemicals are off.  Alcohol will only further make it worse.  It is best to discuss having a drink or two with your doctor first.  Also when it is an okay time to have a drink and when not to.  Also to have a plan of action, to have a person to help keep you accountable and to keep watch over you in case something should happen.

Other physical symptoms that could happen when you drink while depressed that could be more dangerous could perhaps be seizures, faster alcohol poisoning,  mania episodes, impulsiveness, bad decision making, and higher rate of suicidal thoughts and action.  Also, while alcohol may put you to sleep, you sleep is more likely to be disrupted.   This alters your thought process, and makes your depression worse.  When you can’t properly think through your thoughts with a rational and clear head it just makes you more insecure about yourself and your choices.  This does not help depression when you overthink and keep circling around the same thoughts obsessively.

The last of the physical reasons I want to touch on is fatigue.  Alcohol dehydrates you and fatigues you.  When you are exhausted, you don’t have the energy or frankly the desire to fight off the depression.  You lay around on the couch or in bed, full of self-loathing and fear. It makes it so much harder to fight when you are fighting against yourself.  I have been there where I have laid in bed unable to move.  Unable to face myself, disgusted at the mere thought of trying to face life.  Feeling so unworthy for anything.  Drinking only makes what is somewhat possible, impossible.  Depression is hard enough to battle without adding the added problems of alcohol.

When you drink it affects your social life.  When you have depression and your social life is effected that makes your depression even worse.  When you are depressed you are down on yourself, you don’t feel like putting anything into the friendship, people get tired of just being the only one to support the relationship.  Again, drink just exaggerates all of that.  Once you start drinking you start to behave a certain way, and it makes it a drag for people to want to be around you. If they know that every time you drink when you are depressed you are going to bring up certain things, people, or situations, they will avoid being with you in social drinking situations.  Which will make you still want to drink, but drink alone, and then again make the depression so much worse.  You will sit there and dwell on the loneliness and why people don’t want to be around you.  Eventually, friends and family will just stop calling to ask you to spend quality time together.  It just isn’t worth it to them if they have to try to carry the relationship.  Also if they have to stand by and watch you destroy yourself, it becomes a stressor for them.  It’s a place I have been before, and I know I won’t go back.


The last reason as to why drinking and depression don’t mix is the effect it has on you emotionally.  This I know from personal experience.  Granted the last time I drank it was two glasses of wine, It still did have an effect on me.  I thank God I had enough sense not to drink the whole bottle.  I have come way too far in my personal journey.  Daddy and I have grown so much in our relationship.  If I would have destroyed myself or us like I almost have in the past, I’m not sure I would have been able to come back from it this time.  I just forgave myself, and I can’t even think about what would have happened if I would have drank the hard stuff versus two glasses of wine.  I am always the hardest on myself.  I always punish myself harder than Daddy can ever punish me.

Guilt is a crazy thing, and it is a side effect of drinking and depression.  I am always honest with Daddy, because I just naturally feel guilty.  I have been conditioned to take the guilt and blame since I was a little girl.  I can’t handle guilt anymore.  It has eaten me alive for years, and for things that I didn’t even do. For things that I wasn’t even responsible for.  Daddy has worked extremely hard and has broken me down and built me back up without those intense feelings of guilt, well so much.  I finally forgave myself of feeling so guilty for what I did last time I hit a bottle of tequila.  I was absolutely out of control.  However, that was all true, I did those things, I had reason to feel that guilt and shame. This time I kept control, it was enough to make me woozy and sleepy and I simply went to sleep.  I keep thinking what if I hadn’t. What I was destroyed over, my wedding date.  The loss of that particular date.  Had I have done what I did when I hit the bottle of tequila, well the date wouldn’t have mattered, because the wedding most likely wouldn’t have happened.  Either he wouldn’t have forgiven me, or the guilt would have consumed me and I wouldn’t have forgiven myself and it would have been between us forever.  I can’t handle guilt.


Out of every emotion that there is, guilt.  Well, jealousy is another that I have found I can’t handle either, but saving that for journal.  I can’t handle knowing that someone I love more than myself is miserable, hurting, sad, and destroyed over my actions.  I just can’t see Daddy hurt anymore by my actions, by my choices.  Yes, this time it was only two glasses of wine.  Two.  However I had made him a promise not to drink alone.  He looked me in the eyes, with tears, trembling, holding me, begging me with a quivering voice to never do that to us again.  To never do that to myself again.  To never do that to him again.  I promised.  I gave him my word that I would never ever drink alone again, and not out of anger, loneliness, or depression.  I failed him again.  I blatantly defied him, and I knew exactly what I was doing.  I did it for no other reason that I was devastated, hurt, angry, and destroyed.  I was pushing him away in that moment.  I was testing him in that moment, not intentionally at the time, but I look back and see that I was.  I see it, it’s a pattern.  I get hurt, I do something stupid to push him and see how devoted he is and see if he will stay with me.  I test his patience, his love, his limits, his boundaries, his devotion.  I test to see if everyone was right when I was growing up, I am unworthy of love, devotion, true and honest protection.  For as far as I have come, there is still some insecurities that linger that I smash a bit more every day that Daddy does stay.  For every time he calls, comes over, keeps a promise, kisses me, tells me he loves me, calls me his princess, protects me, puts me in my place…. It knocks down more of that insecurity, and it makes me feel more and more like I am worthy and deserving.  It helps tame the depressive beast that I have a hard time keeping caged inside of me sometimes.  Daddy has been my salvation.  This is not just a relationship, this is not just a D/s relationship, this is not just love.  This is everything, my whole tangled up messed up life that is finally starting to make sense and become organized chaos.  This is why I won’t drink while depressed anymore, because I won’t put this at risk. If I lose this, I lose me.  If we weren’t we, I wouldn’t be me.  Simply put.


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