Alcohol is nothing without someone to drink it and the substance changes lives for many who partake; a glimpse into the impact of alcohol on humanity.
Getting Drunk For The First Time
This is a true story of my experience at one of the companies I worked a few years ago. The company had a very free and happy culture, thanks to my highly social and extroverted boss.
A Pink Jeffrey for Your Wild Side
It all started in high school. A group of my closest gal pals and I, snickering, circled around a lavish piece of glassware we stole from D's parent's fine China.
Go Hard at Home
I always knew I’d be an alcoholic. It was a bit of a delayed vice due to the insufferable tendency some bald bitch had of playing God.
Alcoholic Beverages Taste Horrible
I remember being 8 years old and sneaking a sip of my uncle's can of Budweiser beer he usually kept in our refrigerator when he came to visit.
A Near Death Experience
While living my best life I attended Eden’s 30th birthday. The event was at Mosman Hotel in a small outside room upstairs. It was a hot Stormy day, the kind of weather that sets the mood, that promises drama and excitement. It’s the kind of weather that lacklustre cinematographers use to tell the story when they lack the artistic ability to convey a nuanced mood. But yeah, it was promising weather for a promising night. I was ready to get wrecked and the weather had my back. I generally have a pretty solid tolerance for alcohol. I would back myself in a drinking competition against anyone but the most hardened of alcoholic miners. Tonight, I was going to test the tensile strength of my liver and I was going to have a blast doing it. I was enjoying myself catching up with my old Uni crew. It had been three months since we were all together, the last time was Charles 30th. It was the year of 30th birthdays, the year of everyone saying goodbye to their twenties and most of them stepping up to the ‘I’m an adult for real and proper now’. Obviously, I didn’t do any stepping up, but the people around me were starting to make those life choices. I had polished off my 3 bottles of white wine and decided to switch to vodka, as you do in the second hour of drinking. I decided to be a reformed former smoker for the night as well because it seemed like a good idea at the time. By this stage I was visibly drunk, but there is never any stopping Dionysus. Dionysus doesn’t want your speed zones, Dionysus doesn’t see your stop signs, Dionysus wants to have fun, and fun happens at pedal to the metal. The thing that stopped me, my metaphorical wall if you will, was a cigarette. After smoke bombing myself for hours, it was a cigarette that tipped me over the edge. The room started to spin uncontrollably. It had been a while since I had drunk that much and smoke bombed myself that hard, and the consequences of my day hit me all at once. Like Sally Pearson, my system just gave up on me, lay down and cried, but unlike an Olympic rowing team there was no-one left to row row row my boat to shore. Like introverts everywhere I decided to do the dodgy bail, to sneak away and order an uber and hope no-one noticed. To my surprise as I exited the pub there was 4 taxis already lined up. I tried to order an uber through my phone app because it’s cheaper than a taxi but I was by this stage incapable of using my phone. It’s entirely possible I was trying to order my Uber on the back screen of my phone or maybe even on a shoe like a funky modern version of get smart. The point being it wasn’t working. I decided to take a taxi because, while expensive, it was within my current capabilities and I wanted to get home. We got about 2 kms in the taxi before I started to feel violently sick. As politely as possibly when incoherently intoxicated, I asked the driver to pull over so I could throw up. He pulled over, and I opened the door just in time to throw up. I threw up so violently that I briefly lost consciousness and came to, face down in a pile of vomit in the gutter. Half in and half out of the taxi, I languished there like an uncoordinated flamingo. I had hit my head on the gutter, torn my ear at some point, and was covered in a foul-smelling wash of blood, vomit and shame.
I Hope They Serve Tequila in Prison.
Before we begin, I think it is important to mention that these stories are only true to the best of my knowledge. I was drunk, a lot, and I solemnly swear that these are depicted as I remember them. But memory is cousin to truth, not twin, and in this case mutated, undesired lusus naturae.
Wine is a drink best served happy. You can chill it too, if that’s what you prefer. Have it red, white, or blue, I don’t particularly care. But when it’s nine o’clock on a Tuesday night and you sit over a half-full glass watching tear drops on the counter top praying for comfort, when you don’t even believe in a god - then maybe you should reconsider. Speaking from experience, when you’ve exhausted all resources and sleep continues to escape you, reaching for a bottle, though it seems practical, isn’t the only option.
My Unusual Relationship With Alcoholic Beverages
The first time I was given a can of beer, I was 16 years old. I was at a party at the home of younger friend where everyone was drinking. I was seated on the stair steps as I took a few sips. I had only consumed half the can when I stood up.There was ringing in my ears and sounds were muffled. There was also a sensation of things around me seeming to fade as if I were going to black out. I had experience these same situation once before, at age 14. I was being injected with substances to find out what I was allergic to, when the ringing in the ears and sensation of blacking out came upon me.
60 Days of Sobriety as Told Through My Journal
“So, why aren’t you drinking again?” As if we’ve discussed it before. We have not. I meet them with an, “Oh, just taking a break right now. Trying to be healthy. Whatever. It’s dumb. I’ll probably drink tomorrow.”
In Defence of Drinking Alone
Before we begin, a disclaimer: I am not a health blogger. I regularly eat chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, and I think Tortilla Chips with cheese on them is a completely acceptable meal to eat in bed. I will not ever be the person you come to for tips on the 5:2 diet, and I roll my eyes whenever I hear the phrase ‘gluten-free.’ I sometimes eat salad, I often eat cheese, and when my friends text me incessantly enough I go to spin classes and complain the entire time. I do not understand quinoa, and I will throw things at you if you call any food ‘super.’ Also, wine is joy.
Getting Sober at 28
I never thought I would be an advocate for AA, for recovery, for sobriety. Let’s be honest—I never thought sobriety, recovery, or AA would be in my life—especially not at 28—but here we are.
I never believed I would fall in love, or desire the presence of another, but I stand corrected. I wasn’t one to dance but that night we danced the night away, laughing and smiling. I didn’t like crowds, or socializing. But then you appeared. I was shy at first, reserved and anxious, but then suddenly you took my hand and pulled me close, a warm embrace that sent a wave of warmth through me. Almost like I had melted against you. I relaxed as I put one foot in front of the other, following you deeper and deeper into the night. Moving slowly then faster and faster to the rhythm of the music, as I slipped deeper and deeper into your arms. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach, my heart fluttered along with it. When your lips touched mine, I couldn’t help but shudder at the sweet bitterness. I felt like I couldn’t taste anything better than you. I began to crave more. My feet couldn’t keep up with yours, as we danced more and more. Our lips embracing each other at every moment. I could hear the voices around me, the laughter and shouts, blurring into one loud resounding buzz. Time seemed to move slowly with you, as minutes had passed when they felt like hours. The beat of the music pulsed through my body as my laughter grew louder. My smile so big it hurt my cheeks and my sides ached. The lights swirling and creating a kaleidoscope of beauty. You had swept me off my feet into what felt like Neverland, to a world I never wanted to leave, to a dimension my mind could not fathom. I wanted this every night, every day through and through. That warm embrace did it all. It was intoxicating to my senses. As my mind faded into the night and I lost myself. Even when the party had to end, you stayed, holding me close as the music faded into nothing. Invading my head with your alluring voice. Warm, soothing, assuring me it’ll be okay.