Worst act of Self-Destruction.

In My Humble Opinion
41

Hmm, where to begin.

Witnessed:

My mother staying in an abusive relationship with my step father just so us kids would have a father figure. This went on for 9 years until he molested my younger sister.

Or possibly the case of my now deceased uncle. He had been a heavy drinker from the time he was 10 or so. Not just beer, but wine, liquor, and anything else with alcohol in it. By the time he was 35, he had an advanced case of cirrhosis of the liver. The doctors told him if he laid off the booze and got a liver replacement, he’d have 10 years to live. He refused the operation, and continued drinking.

He would up over doing it one night, and ended up with a blood alcohol level of 3.5. Not .35 as most people think I mean, but 3.5. The doctors were amazed that he wasn’t dead from it. It did put him into a coma for a couple of days, and he died of massive bleeding from every orifice 2 weeks later.

Committed:

Being a work-o-holic. If I were scheduled to work 830 to 230, I would go in at 7, and not leave until anywhere between 5 and 930 that night. I would only be clocked in the hours I was scheduled though. I’d go in and work a few hours on my days off without pay. It got to where my fellow employees saw me more than my real family.

I even ignored my own health to work. I started running a fever one November, that wouldn’t go away regardless of what I took for it. The fever persisted through April, when I started having minor stomach aches. Those aches grew progressively worse until I couldn’t sleep or hold down food and liquids. I still persisted to work until the pain got unbearable.

When I finally found a doctor that knew what he was doing, my appendix had ruptured, and had 24 hours to flood my body with toxins, which led to a major infection. This infection lead to major secondary infections, that kept my fever hovering between 103.5 and 106 for a month. It cost me a lot of my physical endurance, took a major toll on my immune system, and left my memory with more holes than swiss cheese.

The doc said that if I had come in back when the fever started, they could’ve caught it then and saved me a lot of trouble.

42

So am I.

According to this chart of Blood Alcohol Levels and the effects thereof, a blood alcohol level of less than .50 can kill. I am looking for a cite regarding the highest measured BAL, but I imagine it will still start with a decimal point.

.20 is 2 grams of alcohol per 1000 grams of blood. Your claimed 3.5 would be… oh shit, math… 30.5 grams of alcohol per 1000 grams of blood. I don’t think that’s possible.

43

Metric vs. Imperial?

44

I did well enough in high school and on my SATs that I had my college more than paid for. I was actually making a small profit by choosing the school I went to, between scholarships and an extra couple thousand given to me by the university.

Once I got there I almost never went to class the first semester, deciding to get drunk instead. I’m not an alcoholic, and wasn’t then either, I just drank entirely too much. Never craved it, never felt bad if I didn’t drink for a stretch because I was broke. I did it because I was bored and just couldn’t think of anything better to do. I would be entirely too hungover for my morning class most of the time. The night before that final I drank a six-pack and almost an entire fifth of Jack Daniel’s, needless to say I missed that one. I knew the material, and if I would’ve gone I might have been able to pass. Even if I hadn’t drank the night before I still wouldn’t go to class many times. A few times (sober, not hungover) I even went as far as the building a class was in to make my friend believe I was going, then took the shuttle back to my apartment, sat there for 10 minutes, then came back to meet my friend after the class was over. And I actually liked that class. I only failed my morning class though, because I went to all of the tests for my other classes.

Second semester I was still drinking, but was taking classes with my friend whom I was madly in love with, so went to all of them and passed them all with flying colors. However, I only took three classes, even though I knew doing so would make me lose my scholarship.

By the third semester I had stopped drinking, but resumed never going to class. Many times I would completely forget I had a class to go to. Failed or withdrew from all of them. The strange part was that I never missed work unless I was genuinely sick.

I no longer go to college, but will be starting a tech school within a year or so. I plan on thinking of it as work instead of school.