Confessions of a Teenage Alcoholic

Chapter 24

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"Max, can you go and change his bed as I talk to them please?" I say, wanting to be alone and also lowkey thinking he needs to be put to work. He looked so guilty and I didn't have the energy to comfort him.

"Yeah, I don't know where-"

"Spare sheets are in the left draw under his bed. Or well they used to be- I don't know why it would have changed."

"Ok, I'll go up."

Max leaves and I let out a deep breathe.

If Jackson had been drinking every day, if his dependency was really bad, cold turkey was such a stupid ass idea.

His blood pressure could have sky rocketed, he could have developed a fever, he could have had a seizure, he could have fucking died. This was rare, I knew this, but he tried to do this on his own, and he said he couldn't stop drinking, as if it was a compulsion.

Which usually meant it was every day, and if it was ever day, detoxing would be so much more dangerous.

God. When people drank, it increased the effects of the GABA, a neutrotrasmitter responsible for creating feelings of calm and euphoria. It also decreases glutamate, another neurotransmitter that creates excitability.

Heavy drinking makes it harder and harder to increase GABA and decrease glutamate, so more and more alcohol is required for the same outcome. Your body becomes accustomed to these changes and responds by producing more glutamate and less GABA.

When you suddenly stop drinking, you are no longer impacting these two neurotransmitters, but your body is still over producing glutamate and underproducing GABA. So Jackson's going to be extra anxious, restless, and shaky. If he was a heavy drinker, his symptoms may be much more severe, progressing to tremors, seizures, and serious high blood pressure.

They need to come back, admit him.

Placing the ringing phone to my ear, I can't help but fall to the floor and lean myself against the kitchen counter.

This was all so fucked.

Why had he drank again? When was it? I refuse to accept it was because of me, he was stronger than that, he-

Fuck if it was me, I shouldn't be here.

"Hello?" An old voice came through the phone and I start speaking forgetting about any anxiety I had about phone calls to strangers.

"Hi, is Charlotte Granger there?" I ask, who most likely is her mother.

"Oh. Yes. I'll go grab her dear. May I ask who is calling?"

"Ivy James."

There's a little bit of silence and I can't imagine how she's going to feel when I tell her.

You know how you said 'who knows' when I asked if he was ok. Well I know. I know that he's not.

"Ivy? Are you ok?"

"Charlotte." I breathe.

"Ivy? What's wrong."

"You need to come home. I don't know If you can do that, but you need to come home as soon as you can."

"What's happened? Ivy, you're freaking me out." She says, her mothering tone towards me falls and becomes worried, anxious. Her signals telling her that something badly wrong.

"Jackson's been drinking, I only found out for sure Saturday I promise. But now he's trying to detox and I don't know what to do Charlotte. He can't do this on his own right?"