The Beginning of Recovery

My sobriety date is May 5th, 2014. Looking back, I had hit my “bottom” more times then I could count, each time being worse than the last. In early 2014, I was a sailor on a U.S. Navy vessel and we had been moored in Thailand for almost a week. Every chance I got I was out in town getting drunk. I was having a great time—moments of “controlling” my drinking leading me to believe I couldn't possibly have a drinking problem. As it turned out, my last “bottom” happened to be on the night before Thailand's country-wide elections, at which time they stop selling alcohol throughout the country. But me being me, I happened to find the two bars that were still serving. I had duty the next morning—the first armed watch—so I knew I shouldn't be drinking. But having those moments of control had convinced me I wouldn't go overboard this time. I don't remember much from that night, but when I woke up the next morning to go to duty section I was still obliterated, and knew there was no getting away with this one. Needless to say, it didn't end well. I was given a breathalyzer test, which is the standard for the first watch standers on my ship. I don't remember what I blew, but it wasn't anywhere near the .04 that was allowed in order for a sailor to hold a gun.