I'm yet again mortified over being caught overdrugged. Well, this time drunk. I've gotten in trouble several times with ambien and/or benzos. So the last couple months I've been coping with my anxiety and insomnia with whiskey and rum. Rather than having to lay there all night practically twitching, listening to my heart race, I drink 5 or 6 shots. Then I can actually relax, listen to music, just feel a little more normal. I'm not allowed to have sleeping pills or benzos any more because of using them too much on a few occasions. So all I have to turn to is alcohol. It doesn't really make me feel good, but it just makes all the other stuff less painful. You know, numbs it. Yesterday morning I woke up or came to, I don't know, with my dad trying to get in the door. I'm wrapped in a sheet or something. I can barely talk and I'm crying. My mom and the neighbor from across the street get clothes for me and force me to take a bath. They're going to take me to the hospital but my dad says I don't need to go. The last thing I remember before all of this was drinking, my usual evening taking place. I was actually fairly drunk since I got home from work. I've just gotten very used to hiding this, so no one had any idea. I was thinking, 'god, i'd really really like a cigarette now. i guess if i drink enough I'll forget how bad i want that too.' I must have lost track of how much I was drinking. My dad said when he tried to make me go to school at 7 in the morning, I was moaning and stuff. So anyhow, now I've screwed up again. Every time I do something like this, I hate myself more and more. I'm actually pretty sure I'm going to drink some tonight or at least by tomorrow. I'm not allowed to take the meds that work. And I mean, if I didn't have enough reason for that behavior before, this humiliation has certainly pushed me across that line. Ever since I used more benzos than I was supposed to (like a double dose I think) my parents have treated me like a druggie and a drunk, told the whole family I have drug problems. I know my mom will have a time calling up everyone and telling them about this. Instead of calling the family to gossip about her "mentally ill" daughter, couldn't she call the psychiatrist or counselor for me that I've been telling her I'm too afraid to call? I know it's not their fault. I just don't know what to do really.