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I’m an alcoholic. A few months ago at dinner I was fretting over whether or not I
should be worried about this, and my renowned psychologist mother reassured
me by saying that physical and mental addiction are different. “Don’t worry,
sweetheart, you’re just a little physically addicted,” she said with a reassuring
smile. Straight from the Ph.D.’s mouth; I proceeded to get happily drunk off of my
stepfather’s credit card. That was the last time I worried about my habit.
I am an alcoholic and I love it. I love watching American Beauty by myself with
half a bottle of red wine. I love waking up hung over next to whatever guy I’m
seeing at the time, eating burritos together, and then grabbing a PBR from the
fridge after dinner so we can start the whole thing over again (hopefully this time
with sex we’re able to remember). I love inviting random neighbors up to my
apartment and having them become completely enthralled with me as I
drunkenly lie about outrageous exploits. I love laughing with them the next day
when I reveal that all of my tales were completely fictional. I love drinking beers
at nice breweries then taking Jell-O shots at dive bars. I like the surprise of getting
my film developed from nights when I don’t even remember who was taking the
pictures. I love being drunk.
Like any respectable writer, though, I have rules. No drinking while working is
number one, of course, which means I don’t touch alcohol until after the sun has
gone down. Another rule is that if I puke I have to take a day off drinking. It
makes sleeping hard, but hey, everyone’s got to draw the line somewhere.
I’m here not to defend my alcoholism, but to celebrate it. Despite its great tolls on
my bank account, I love alcohol and I love its effects on me. “Don’t you wake up
feeling guilt and regret from a night of carousing from one house party full of
jungle juice to another?” one might ask, but the answer is no. This happened
frequently when I first started to drink and would only binge on weekends, but
now that I’m a full-fledged alcoholic, I rarely have embarrassing or regretful
nights. If anything, I wake up proud of the things that the alcohol gave me the
courage to do. “Why couldn’t you try to do those things without the alcohol?” this
same snarky asshole might wonder, and the answer is: Why?
12.9k
A few days ago (a Tuesday) I was at one of the five liquor stores within a one-
!
block radius of my apartment, and the guy working there said, “Wow, more wine?
" You don’t work tomorrow?” I thought the question was funny more than anything
# else, but it did make me realize that my unique lifestyle (writing from home every
day) has afforded me the wonderful opportunity to be a happy, fulfilled,
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functioning alcoholic. Booze, far from ruining my life, has been the impetus for
% many a friendship or relationship. It serves as a motivator for finishing my work,
& helps me communicate more confidently with friends, makes everyone more
interesting (and therefore makes me a nicer person), and often enables some form
of late-night revelation or confession. I’m like a happy version of every character
in Transparent.
But is this just the peak before the fall? Will I write another piece in a month
detailing my “rock bottom” story and my subsequent harrowing trip through jail
and then rehab? Will my friends and family abandon me to my one true love: red
wine?
No, maybe I have beer goggles on, but I actually don’t foresee it turning out like
that. I don’t drink to numb pain, I don’t drink to hide, I don’t drink to be less of
myself, and I don’t drink to get laid. I drink because it’s fun and I like how it
tastes. Or maybe I drink because fun, interesting things happen to you when
you’re drunk. Maybe I’m just that stereotypical writer that craves new experiences
and uses alcohol to get it. Or maybe alcohol is just awesome, and we live in a
society in which everything is black and white: You’re either a depressed alcoholic
or a happy sober person. Even the word “alcoholic” divides the world of drinkers
in two: those who do it and are healthy and those who are not.
The real problem with the word “alcoholism” is that it denotes addiction, and
addiction is bad, or so our doctors tell us. Well, I’m telling you that if there’s one
thing I’ve learned from my quarter-life crisis, it’s that doctors don’t know shit
about booze, drugs, sex, or addiction. Sure, there are people who do these things
poorly, but the truth is all of them can be awesome and can be sustained for long
periods of time with zero negative consequences.
20 SOMETHINGS ALCOHOLISM AMERICAN BEAUTY BEER GOGGLES GOING OUT HEALTH & WELLNESS HUMOR JELL-O SHOTS LOVE & SEX
PARENTING PBR RIHANNA TEETOTALERS TRANSPARENT WOMENS STYLE WRITING & EXPRESSION
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1) As I write this in 2016, I would bet good money that since this article was written in 2014, your
alcoholism has only increased the severity with which it is fucking up your entire life. You are so
naive.
2) Every alcoholic who ends up dying in a gutter, ruins their life, or even the ones who end up
recovering, they all start out exactly like you. Cocky. In denial. Feeling invincible. Your dependency
will only get worse. Your withdrawals will only get worse. Your appearance will only get worse. Your
skin will only get worse. Your relationships will only get worse.
3) Get a fucking grip.
△ ▽ • Reply • Share ›
2. You sound like every alcoholic I've ever met when they describe the formative years of their
disease. This can go on for quite a while--like 20 years, but will almost certainly end tragically for
you and/or an unsuspecting person.
3. Just because you're not embarrassed by how you act when you're drunk doesn't mean it's not
embarrassing. My best friend is similar to you in her addiction and in her denial, and while she's not
usually embarrassed by her behavior during a drunken night out, I'm generally mortified and having
to explain and apologize on her behalf while she's off thinking she's the life of the party.
I hope I'm not being too harsh, here, but you do sound exactly like my best friend and her layer of
denial about her drinking and her behavior while drunk is impenetrable. it's gotten to the point
where only people that are more fucked up than her (coke heads and other addicts want to hang
out with her). I hope you do summon the bravery it takes to be honest with yourself and then go
from there.
Cheers!
14 △ ▽ • Reply • Share ›
tp • 7 years ago
I'll drink to that
3△ ▽ • Reply • Share ›
I'm sure the need to constantly be in a mood altered state is sign of a well adjusted person.
"Hey I'm just a happy alcoholic!" is surely a great rationalization to just keep on drinking eh? "I'm a
alky! It's how we do! Woooo!" You'll be able to use this justification for years!
Oh you might want to read the latest research over at the Dailymail from a day or two ago. Doesn't
matter if you only drink a bit everyday, you will still get cirrhosis or hepatitis. Liver failure is rapidly
climbing as a cause of death due to our "two or three glasses of red wine a night is good for you"
culture.
You need a minimum of two or three days off IN A ROW from drinking a week for your liver to
function properly. You are heading for a horribly unpleasant death. Liver failure ain't fun. Check out
the hospital some time for yourself to see what alcoholic deaths look like.
Anyways, me thinks thou doth protest too much but maybe it really is enhancing your life.
A lot of people use booze and drugs to get through the drudgery and ennui of being a nameless
drone in our western cubicle dwelling wage slave society There are no great existential challenges
to life anymore. No daily necessities to survival. Constant satiation and artificial stimulation.
Technology makes everything easy and comfortable.
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