Oh hi it’s me, writing about alcohol again. It’s just that recently drinking has got me thinking and I was thinking about how alcohol is a depressant.
After spending many delightful day-long weekend drinking sessions and weeknight twilight drinks with pals while sitting on the literal ground on Jersey City’s Bourbon Street (formerly known as “Newark Ave”), I realized I wasn’t feeling so great. Not just physically not great, although I felt that too, but not great…in my mind.
Last Saturday we watched a movie called “Wendy.” Watch the trailer.
As you can see, THIS MOVIE ISN’T ABOUT ANYTHING. That didn’t stop me from sobbing uncontrollably by the end. My boyfriend comforted me for like 10 minutes but I couldn’t stop. I had to go hide in the bathroom and finish out this roller coaster ride on my own.
I was so incredibly sad because I had had at least one alcoholic a day for 4 days in a row. I had reached my LIMIT. Once I drink too many days in a row, the sadness starts to creep in and there’s no way to bounce back. I have to sit at the bottom of the pit and cry about nonsensical movies with no point and no story AND NO MEANING. The meaning is inside my head. And it’s sad as hell.
When I started drinking in college it was all, “The more you can drink the better! The more days in a row you drink that’s great! The more different kinds of drinks the cooler you are! Oh it doesn’t matter if you want to be cool it’s just a way of life! If you do all this stuff you win drinking!” And then anyone that ever questioned why you were drinking or was like, “Is this nuts? Maybe it’s too much?” was cast off as a full-on FUN RUINER and banished to another land where people did boring shit like drink water and meditate and actually study for their exams.
It was in insult, in a way, to tell someone they were probably drinking too much. And if YOU YOURSELF admitted you were drinking too much, it meant you “had a problem.” People that didn’t drink were assumed to have recovered from some kind of “problem.” Basically drinking your face off daily was accepted and even celebrated, and those that questioned that were wrong.
If you think about it, we ALL have some kind of “problem,” or have had a “problem,” or will have a “problem” at some point. In this scenario “problem” is a euphemism for “probably should not drink that much and even not drink at all and they’re definitely being embarrassing and they’re going to feel shitty about this tomorrow even if it’s not even a big deal and we the people around them don’t even care because we do it too. But they’re still going to feel VERY SHITTY about this and that in itself IS a problem.”
There’s some kind of social contract among people in our age group, young gen-x and old and young millennials, that says it’s okay to get drunk and be stupid as long as no one gets physically hurt or dies. And even the physically hurt part “like isn’t a big deal.” Wounds heal, ya know? And in the same sense, bad choices, misbehavior, and personal slights are always forgotten in time, mostly because more bad choices, misbehavior, and personal slights erase the former ones. There are perpetually new things to be mad or sad about or offended by but one thing remains the same – we are all always drinking.
One time for a while I had a super mean, emotionally manipulative boyfriend (then for a longer time after that a mean, emotionally manipulative not-boyfriend that hung like a dark, ominous, MALIGNANT cloud over my life. For like a decade). Although he was very mean and very manipulative, and also ominous and MALIGNANT, he was right ONE SINGLE TIME and that was when he said, “Why do you THINK you’re so sad, Shan? Alcohol is a depressant.”
Okay first of all don’t call me “Shan,” only my family and NICE PEOPLE call me that. Second of all…I’LL DRINK WHAT I WANT, BITCH.
It took me a couple more years after that for me to realize that he was right…ABOUT THIS ONE SINGLE THING. And I should have listened to him BUT ONLY ABOUT THIS, and then I should have been like, “Bye, leave my life.” Luckily it’s like that now. Whew.
I did sober January last year for the first time, and did it again this past January. Sober January really made me realize how drastically alcohol affects my moods. Maybe it’s just me but I really think it isn’t just me. When I consistently have drinks for a few days in a row, by the end of those days I am ready to live in a dark room and just sob constantly. It’s not a good feeling.
But I still like drinking! I still like having fun! I AM STILL COOL I SWEAR. I just have to do it less now. Like way less. BUT STILL FUN WHEN I DO IT. I just have to drink a lot of water.
The biggest bummer about this whole thing is that I spent literal years feeling pretty depressed all the time. And I am formally diagnosed (BY SCIENCE) with depression and take medication for it and that stuff helps and it’s great. But I’ll tell you what DIDN’T HELP was the drinking most days of the week. Back then I wish I would have realized that I was making myself depressed and I should have just not been out drinking as much. It seems so simple! But I was CONVINCED that drinking COULD NOT POSSIBLY MAKE ME SAD and anyone that suggested it was insane.
Who is the insane one NOW?
Oh, it’s me. But if anyone would like to “hang out” in the world with me and drink Diet Coke or juice or mocktails, or even better, EAT DESSERTS INSTEAD please let me know. Thx.