Mitchell’s Story

I was diagnosed with Hepatic Liver and spent some time in Intensive care with

low potassium.  I’m here to tell the tale and live a happy and full life. 

Untitled design (1)

Mitchell's story

I want to post this to help people have an end goal to help them strive to stay abstinent.

My first drink was vodka and a carton of juice from the corner shop at age 13 behind the football field.  It’s kind of a ritual where I am from, you are exposed to heavy drinking from birth really it’s everywhere but when you start “Courting” you begin to taste it for the first time, I was indifferent to drink as I didn’t really enjoy it but I just used it socially because “that’s what people do”.   I drank on weekends and student nights up until age 20-21 without any problems.

Then from 20-21, my mental health rapidly deteriorated.  I went to attending college 5 days a week to train to become a personal trainer, working out regularly and having a purpose to sitting in my room playing games, eating junk food and  just neglecting myself, I continued to drink on Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays but there was no reward system now I was just drinking to socialise when it should have been the reverse.

I remember the exact moment when my drinking started to spiral, It was a Thursday I walked to my friend “James” house to do our weekly pilgrimage to a student pub in town, I suffered one of my first panic attacks.  I didn’t freak out with the fear of my friend suspecting I was broken and weird, what seemed like an eternity finally came to a close when  we arrived at the pub .

James: “what you having mate?

Me: “Get me a pint”( I’ve never downed a drink so quick, my anxiety started to subside. Wow! I thought this is great I’ve been suffering silently at home.)

Me: “what are you having mate?”

James: “I’ve still got a full pint.”

I hastily rushed to the bar, I remember the queue being large so I bumped through everyone which is completely out of character I didn’t care if it escalated physically, Pints flowed that night and I felt a relief from my anxiety for the first time in months, I was on Cloud 9.

Ever since that night, my mind made a direct correlation between illness>alcohol>relief.  I had no idea that I was self-medicating, I knew I wasn’t right but I didn’t know I was ill.

Up until the age of 24, I practised this method, not conversing with anyone about what I was doing.  My tolerance for alcohol was high and It was noticeable.   I was necking down 10 pints in the pub and driven by anxiety, I was desperate for the 11th, Every trip home from the pub was accompanied by a stop to the 24 hour off license.  I was now at the point that I couldn’t imagine going anywhere without alcohol.  Even if I was walking to the corner shop, I needed to have a stash of ale somewhere on me, Just in case of a panic attack mid walking.

I was in and out of hospital with seizures from trying to come off the ale altogether, That cemented my idea that I couldn’t be anywhere without alcohol on my person.

Things progressively got worse and I wasn’t working so I began to steal. I stole my girlfriend’s purse, my mother’s handbag and I cashed in my cousin’s laptop.  I was in and out of hospital with seizures from trying to come off the ale altogether, That cemented my Idea that I couldn’t be anywhere without alcohol on my person.

Needless to say, my mother had been through every emotion you could possibly fathom, I was her baby, she wanted so much more for me and she never wanted harm to befall me.  My last binge lasted 12 months.  I wouldn’t move out of bed.  I was drinking 20 cans of lager for 6 months then graduated to a litre of vodka every day for another 6 months.  I know what your thinking, ‘where was the money’ and ‘who was buying you it.’  Well the truth is It was my mum she was trying to get me sober because I would promise every time that I would get sober but in order to do that,  I told her that she couldn’t let me go cold turkey again (basically playing to her motherly instincts)….It makes me sick to think of the person that I was back then.

My family doctor, Dr Hussey, was called out when I hadn’t eaten for two weeks.  I also couldn’t stop spewing when he walked in to find what looked like Homer Simpson.  I was yellow to the bone swollen and unable to move so an ambulance was called shortly after.  My last drink was a vodka inside of a Lucozade bottle inside the Royal Liverpool Hospital on Christmas Eve in 2017.

I was diagnosed with Hepatic Liver and spent some time in Intensive care with low potassium.  I’m here to tell the tale and live a happy and full life.   My mother has passed now so she never got to see the person I became but I live now for her memory.  She gave her life so I could have a good one and that’s what I intend to do.  Love you Mum x

If your on the path of sobriety Keep on Truckin!  Two years sober and I’m fully healed.  All blood work and scans are perfect with no underlying remnants of disease.

I have now set up the Mitchellin Star Foundation.  Its the beginning of my life’s work to help young adults by spreading my story for awareness.

Thanks for listening to my story.

USEFUL LINKS

Back to stories