Crushed by the Weight of Rock Bottom

Sitting by a bonfire next to friends Pete and Joe... was where my night ended, or at least that's the last thing I remember. From all the stories I heard my night was far from over. What took place after was probably me at my lowest point. I'm kinda glad that I don't remember any of it, because from what I heard it was bad.

Like I said the last thing I remember was sitting in front of the fire. I was drinking.I drank to much. I was extremely drunk. Actually drunk is an understatement. I was fucked up. I turned into a monster. I got extremely pissed off. For some reason, I sometimes get this paranoid feeling and think I don't matter and that everyone hates me. Last night was one of those times. I took that feeling to the extreme, but not in the whinny way. More like in the "fuck the world and everyone in it, I don't need you" way. All the frustration, hate, and anger I had towards myself and anyone and everything that I kept inside for the longest time came out. I feel sorry, and apologize to my best friend Joe and Kacy, they got the worst of it. I remember talking to Joe, before shit went downhill, about my new motto I'm gonna try to live by "don't think, just do"and that's what I did. That was one of the times where I wish I would have thought, because if I had known what it was going to lead to I would have never done it.

I feel bad for what I did. That alcohol fueled hatred caused me to swing at and even punch him in the head. If I was him I would have knocked me out, but he didn't even fight back. That's not the bad part either, I guess he took me back to his house where I threw up and pissed all over his house and myself. They should have kicked me out, but they didn't and that's a good thing because I still had my car keys and car outside, where I could have easily gotten in my car and drove off where odds are I would have crashed and killed someone or myself. But instead they took me to the hospital (where I pretty much spent most the night). So do they get a thanks for doing the right thing and taking me there and calling my parents? No, instead they get spat at and cursed out by me for them trying to help. I feel like a asshole. And to them I apologize.

I continued my reign of terror at the hospital, when the nurse ask to take my temperature I replied "No Bitch!" and probably called her other names. The rest of the stay was hazy, I remember waking up wondering where I am and how I got there, I would get and explanation and then pass back out. I was informed at just how bad I got. When I arrived my blood alcohol level was about 4.5 times what I could handle. Had it been 5 times what I could handle I would have been in a coma. If it was 6 times then I would have died. I was that close to killing myself with alcohol over a false belief. I'm not completely sure why I did it, I know I wanted to drink but I didn't want to get like that. Maybe I was just trying to let off some steam, and I did but it was more than I wanted to let off. The response to that "why" that startled me the most was the one I gave my brother, I told him I did it because I worried about his cancer coming back and him not making it. Needless to say I had everyone scared. I even had my poor sister in tears with the txt she sent my brother while he was at the hospital: "tell markus to stay strong so he can come back home and crack jokes and talk about the UFC it wouldn't be the same without him"

Amongst all that chaos and with the help of family, friends, and the doctors I managed to pull through. I'm at home now watching the ufc while I recover and try to forget about how bad I fucked last night. Like I said, if I would have know that was gonna happen I would have never done it. I guess I'll just take it as another lesson learned. Again, to all those that I have hurt or caused worry to because of last night.... I'm truly sorry, it won't happen again.