On my high school graduation cap I wrote “No Limits.”

Parents patted me on the back and said what a great message it was. They had no clue. What it meant was there was no limit to how drunk I could get.

In college, I took my drinking to the next level.

At 22, however, I quit drinking alcohol. After only a year and half of me being able to drink legally, I hung up my spurs.

I know no one likes a quitter, but take my word for it, me not drinking is good for us all.

I was “that guy.” I was the first one to grab the beer bong funnel. I played drinking games like beer pong, flip cup, and kings until I puked.

After that, I’d slur “puke and rally” and just keep going.

I was the loud, obnoxious drunk, who on occasion would urinate in the living room during the party. I was that guy who would be having fun one second and wanted to fight the next.

I drank ’til I blacked out. By the end of my drinking career, I would blackout before I would puke.

I used drinking as a way to avoid facing reality. I felt lost because I had no direction or purpose in life. I never just had a couple beers, never just got a buzz and rode it out.

If I was drinking, I was going all the way.

I drank when I was depressed, and became depressed because I drank so much. In the words of Fat Bastard from Austin Powers, it was a vicious cycle.

I lost friends, failed out of school and got a DUI that ended in me driving 14 miles on two rims. My car only stopped because the transmission fell out of it.

Despite being miserable, I continued to use alcohol as my coping mechanism. Yet the more I drank, the thinner my soul felt.

When I closed my eyes, my world was constantly in motion. It was just like having the spins, but it was all the time.

I hit rock bottom on New Year’s Eve exactly one year after my DUI.

It started with a girl. I had a crush on her since the seventh grade-I was the friend who loved in secret.

A side note to those guys out there who have a crush on their friend, just tell them. Take my word for it. Either it will happen or not, but you best get it over with because life is too short. But I digress.

So on New Year’s Eve I’m wasted, and the girl I cared for more than anything is at the same party with a buddy of mine. I called her a name that has no place for print, and if my mother knew I uttered it I would have the taste smacked out of my mouth.

That was it. I knew I had absolutely no control. If I could say something that hurtful to someone who meant that much to me, I could not drink again.

That day I changed.

I fully believe if I didn’t change then, I’d probably be dead or in jail. I know that I would not be here at City College.

I changed because I could not live one more the day the way I was, and have been sober for the last six years.