Drinking to Exist
Our relationship with alcohol is a complicated, illogical one. We’re in a society where it is still unusual to go out and not get absolutely battered. And a lot of our social life feels as if it relies heavily on it to survive.
I love booze and I hate it. I think I love the feeling of 2 pints in after a busy day or stressful time…that fuzzy, relaxed yet slightly euphoric feeling that everything is good. Anxiety drops a bit, suddenly awkward situations feel more natural.
As much as I enjoy beer, I realise that a big part of that taste appeal is the fact every 100ml slurp makes me feel a little less annoyed to be alive. I can look into a glass and observe the size of the bubbles, the subtle variations in colour from rusty orange to hazy lemon and feel as if I’m some kind of conoisseur, taking in all this drink has to offer, an explosion of flavours. Really I’m just getting sozzled and shoving a glass in my face frequently to provide something to do.
After those 2 pints, the warm fuzzy feeling is overwhelmed by a slightly negative feeling of tiredness and the realisation that either you carry on, in the hope of recreating the delicious buzz…or you stop. But then what’s the point? You’ve fucked up your calorie intake by wasting your requirements on the empty alcohol and shitty gluten already so you may as well keep going and try and enjoy yourself. Right?
I understand how the rancid alcoholics that sit on street corners at 9am Monday with cheap cider can do it. I never used to. But in reality it would be lovely to be pissed all day…And most of them live to 60, 70 even 80 years old…at least they can look these ages. Given the trials and tribulations of modern life this seems like a pretty attractive proposition to me. In my head there’s a battle between living a healthy, wholesome life and getting to 60 years old, feeling as if a lot of the work I’ve put in has just fizzled away; And getting on it, having loads more fun and lots of hilarious stories, and being a mess at that age…but that gives me over a couple of decades more degredation which again appears quite attractive. These guys have just taken the constant intake of alcohol in any social setting to the next level, never stopping. They need to drink to exist.
Fear not, I have decided to stay on the wholesome path. I feel much better when drinking nothing at all, internally, and mentally. I’ve resigned to just having alcohol on special occasions and holidays. And this is just so I don’t go stir crazy feeling like I’m totally restricting myself. The difficult take away from this approach is enjoying the journey for what it is. Learning to go out socially, to love, and to just be in the moment without pouring alcohol on top of it to force enjoyment. When I’m not drinking I’m not constantly thinking about when I can start drinking or when I can get my next drink in….analysing each social scenario and feeling like I’m not relaxed enough or wrecked enough.
Without booze I feel like I’m learning to live again. It is quite difficult at times, little habits of people start to get right on my nerves, I feel a sense of unrest and anxiety as if I need to be more productive constantly. I kind of dread weekends as if I have nothing to look forward to. And I do miss a good beer or wine. But I feel hydrated. I feel present. My guts aren’t all over the place. I don’t wake up in a bush. I remember what I did. That CAN be good I’ve found. Mornings are generally quite an updeat affair, with the lack of dread about what I need to do and how I can’t be bothered. Most importantly I register these feelings in myself, compare how this feels to how hangovers used to feel. Give myself a tap on the back and reiterate to myself that this is the right thing to do, to get more out of life, to save money, to have meaningful relationships and not be reliant on a substance to give me substance.
I don’t feel the urge to start drinking again just to exist.