For a good part of my life, alcohol has been a large influence. I started drinking as most do in college. Binging was, of course, the big problem. On weekends in particular, it was the way to fit in.

Once I graduated, I moved on from binge drinking to daily, after-work drinks. I would have about two to three drinks a night as a way to wind down from my workday. I always considered this the norm as my parents always had that after-work drink when I was growing up.

I moved back to Colorado in 2000 from Arizona, and that is when the heavier drinking began. I worked in consumer electronics, and there is a big push to drink in that industry. Schmoozing was a big thing when factory reps would take us out to dinner in Denver but especially at a trade show in Las Vegas. Once I was on the rep side, it became much more of an accepted practice to drink. At this point, all I looked forward to at the end of the day was that “wind down” drink.

My wife and I moved to Summit County in 2014 to get away from the corporate life and try to have some fun. Our first year, we both worked at Breckenridge Ski Resort and tried to act like we were still in our 20s. My wife decided to get a “real job,” and I kept working on the mountain. Partying was almost expected, and the majority of the people working on the mountain were quite a bit younger. This, of course, led to more happy hours and partying.

COVID was what really put me over the top. I am a very active person and love interacting with people. Isolation just led to more drinking at home. What else was there to do?

In December 2022, I decided to slow down on the drinking. I was basically drinking all day and starting to feel the effects. As I weaned down, my body reacted badly. By the second week of January 2023, I finally went to urgent care in Dillon, thinking I had a hernia. I had a yellow hue to my skin, and the nurse sent me to the emergency room for treatment. My wife drove us to Denver, and it turns out I had end-stage liver disease caused by alcohol. As soon as people in the ER told me that if I continued to drink I would die, I stopped drinking cold turkey. My last drink was Jan. 12, 2023. I continue to fight liver disease and am on the transplant list for a new liver.

Stop if you can before you end up worried every day about your last day.

— Kristian Fuller

I never met the woman who saved my life in November 2013 as my body was freezing to death after passing out next to a river following a night of drinking in my hometown. I wouldn’t be here if that woman hadn’t called 911 around 6 a.m. after hearing my cries from the bushes down by the river.

When I woke up in the hospital bed, a nurse told me I likely would have died if another half-hour had passed before I was rushed to the hospital with hypothermia and rhabdomyolysis, a rare condition that was caused by my body consuming itself in an effort to stay alive in sub-freezing temperatures.

I don’t remember much about that night, but I remember arriving at my friend’s 21st birthday party late and drinking quickly to try to catch up before heading to the bar. The alcohol overwhelmed me as we were dancing. Embarrassed, I vaguely remember slipping outside while no one was watching. Delusional from the alcohol, my plan was to walk 8 miles home through the polar-vortex temperatures without a coat or working phone. It didn’t end well.

As I sat in the hospital with black toes and black fingers, my kidneys and liver on the verge of failure, I reflected on how I ended up in this situation.

I was extremely shy growing up. I was bullied for my speech impediment and goofiness, so I felt uncomfortable letting loose in social situations. When I turned 21, alcohol helped me forget about the hypercritical thoughts swirling in my head, but it obviously came with its own baggage.

While I never drank alcohol on a day-to-day basis, it was the center of many social gatherings in college.
Binge drinking on weekends became a habit. In hindsight, it was my way to shut off the voice in my head so I could relax and make friends. I was self-medicating the anxiety and mental health issues that my friends and family never talked about — or asked me about.

I went to counseling for my anxiety, which was lifesaving. I recognized that we are conditioned to hide our perceived flaws and often avoid tough conversations, even with those we love dearly. To change that, I promised myself that I would answer people honestly when they asked how I was doing so that my vulnerability could become a springboard for them to open up about the thoughts swirling around in their heads, too.

To stay away from self-medicating, I focused on the things that brought me joy as a child: hiking, playing disc golf, camping, taking part in sports, exploring. That was my recipe for success, so I shared my struggles with the people around me and asked them if they would join me on my adventures. Many people shared their struggles with me, so we worked together to create safe spaces where we focused on our mental health and substance use.

— Andrew Maciejewski