After 4 years of sobreity, I never thought one of the hardest things would be other people. I genuinely assumed it was just going to be a case of being around or finding myself in situations in which alcohol would be presented to me, and proceeding to say “Oh, no thank you” rinsing and repeating for the rest of my life. For the most part, that is mostly what it’s like. It’s saying no when offered, not going for it when I’m sad but it’s also most unexpectedly, fielding the most intrusive and thoughtless questioning of my life.
I get it – it’s weird. I got sober at 23 years old which feels like far too young to have even developed and nurtured a problem with any substance, let alone one that’s so prevalent and normalised within our society. But I did, I peaked early – a child prodigy of getting loose and having a sick one, if you will.
I first got drunk at the age of 14 which, unfortunately, is pretty average among most of my generation. Naturally, I binge drank anything I could get my hands on which, in a herculean effort, resulted in me mixing 7 different types of alcohol in one night. I drank occasionally at parties from there on out, but only really started drinking regularly around 18/19 when I started working in hospitality.
It’s tempting to say that it was “the thing that I had always been looking for” but it wasn’t exactly that. It certainly helped dull the anxiety and intrusive thoughts associated with my mental health that I’d been experiencing for the last decade, and finally made me feel like I could relax, have an ounce of fun and in some ways – a moment’s peace.
As you can imagine, I eventually ended up relying on it far too much. I went through periods where I would either binge every time I drank, pushing myself to my absolute limits in an attempt to stop feeling anything at all. Or other periods where I drank everyday because I was unemployed and “I could”, with a flow on effect of me (wrongly) assuming it would help me sleep.
I never called myself an alcoholic until my ex-boyfriend did. He’s not incorrect – it is the definition of what I am, I had just never considered it. It was very sobering to realise that’s how other people viewed me. I told people “I had a problem with drinking” which is true, and genuinely how I viewed the situation. I find it comes across softer and more palatable than ‘alcoholic’ does in casual conversation. ‘Alcoholic’ immediately conjures up all types of stereotypes and assumptions I didn’t think encapsulated me correctly. Perhaps I never wanted to address the fact that’s the correct term for people like me due to the connotations, however, I know full well the connotations were completely correct. I am an alcoholic. I just wish I was able to realise and come to terms with that label before somebody else assigned it to me.
I don’t know why I assumed that telling people I don’t drink would be easy. Surely, I thought, people would just respect that that’s the way I’ve decided to live my life, and it has nothing to do with the person I’m telling and the way they decide to live theirs. But that’s rarely how it plays out, not even close. The reaction I get far, far too much is that it’s completely unfathomable! The mind can’t wrap it’s head around the fact that somebody has chosen to not pour liquid poison down their gullet in an attempt to have a good time. It’s incomprehensible that I can socialize in any capacity without the use of social lubricants! Absolutely baffling that I could dance without 3 glasses of wine under my belt! Positively mind boggling that I could go home with somebody stone cold sober!
“What IS that all about???” asked a friend with the full gusto and confidence of somebody who definitely doesn’t have a problem with any substance themselves, without a hint of genuine concern or inquiry, they just wanted to know what the hell my deal was.
“Dude… she’s an alcoholic” my then boyfriend piped up, completing the second deadly blow to any kind of confidence I had within myself that evening.
“Ah, right. Well you know me, I got no filter I just ask shit” he concludes, reassuring himself that the way he conducts himself in conversation is fine, as long as he gets what he wants out of it.
On a date last week the guy offered to buy me a drink before I arrived. “Alright, I’ve just arrived and am grabbing a beer. You want one?” I read via our Bumble conversation on the way there. “I’m going to have to break it to him even earlier than I thought” I realised. Because that’s how it feels by the way, that’s how I’ve been made to feel, like I’m breaking news to people. “I’m good for beer, but I’d love a lemon, lime and bitters!” I replied.
Not long after I sat down he asked why I wasn’t drinking, because you can’t simply just be in the mood for a soft drink on a Tuesday night, you see. I broke the news. “Oh, why’s that?” he asked. Which is the worst question you can ask, and I’ll tell you why. It’s either of 3 things, and 2 of them aren’t great first date conversations to have while you’re trying to be your most alluring, put-together self.
- You like to do other substances instead. This is becoming more common where people have realised that drinking alcohol is dog-shit and hangovers are the stuff of nightmares so they’ve opted for other forms of drug use as a means to feel more in control, and less like they want to kill themselves the day after. I generally like that people are moving towards other ways of partying, however it does mean as a sober person that, if I don’t drink alcohol, what do I do because it has to be something!
(Nothing, by the way. I can’t smoke weed, MDMA comedowns make me want to die, and I’ve done so much work balancing my delicate brain chemistry out in the last couple of years I’d hate to accidentally mess it up with improper use of mushrooms, acid, ketamine etc. I have Valium if I’m having a wobbly, but that’s it). - You have a family member who was an alcoholic who was violent, traumatised you or ripped your family apart so you don’t/never drank because you didn’t want to turn into them. OR:
- You’re an alcoholic! You have a big ol’ problem with drinking in a normal capacity and thus had to stop in case you inadvertently/advertently killed yourself. This can also mean you’ve done/experienced a bunch of upsetting and traumatic things that aren’t very conducive to the niceties of casual, polite conversation.
My date then went on to ask a lot of questions about my sobriety. Which I understand if it’s a new concept and they’re genuinely just interested, however, you have to know, it’s so, so incredibly personal.
I’m yet to find a way to say “I don’t owe you a blow-by-blow personal recount of my addiction and recovery” without coming off like a massive cunt. But the truth is, that’s what you’re making me do, and I don’t owe you that. People forget or don’t realise they’re asking me to tell them about one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I’m yet to find a way to express that sentiment in a way that comes off polite while also not ruining the conversation, even though that’s what you’re doing when you continue to bring it up. There are parts of me that want to educate people on how to treat addicts, but also, it shouldn’t be a job that is thrown onto me in the middle of polite conversation.
He went on, “What’s the worst thing you did when you were drinking?”
I had already decided I didn’t think I was attracted to this person, but this was like taking a semi automatic nail gun to a coffin and letting it rip.
Why would you ask this? What do you get out of it? More importantly, what do I get out of it? I’ve been asked this question many times before and it’s the most interesting question. The asker is fully aware that I had a problem with alcohol, because I’ve told them not moments earlier. They’re fully aware that this means I’ve probably done/said/experienced some pretty awful things that I’m probably not proud of, and yet, they think they’re deserving of this incredibly personal, probably embarrassing information… what? Because they asked? Because it’s a good story for them to hear? Because they on a surface level, just want to know?
I’ve yet to do it in my 4 years of sobriety, and maybe after writing this I’ll start, but I’ve always wanted to tell people who asked this that I’ve killed somebody. Not on purpose of course. Maybe vehicular manslaughter? I did some time in the big house, but I’m rehabilitated – plus it was years ago anyways!
There are so many stories and times when I’ve felt belittled because I’m sober. Like when people coddle me at parties, constantly checking in on me all night to see if I’m alright, even though I’ve been doing this for quite some time now and I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Or when I get asked how I do X without drinking, even though the person asking me doesn’t realise that type of questioning is more indicative of their relationship with alcohol than it is with mine.
By the way, you should be able to do all the things you do when you’re drunk when you’re not. I don’t think people realise that. But you should. You should be able to tell people how you feel, dance, sing, have the confidence to piss in the street all while you’re not inebriated. If you can’t then maybe it wouldn’t hurt if you reassessed some of the reasons why you drink. Selfishly, I hope this just takes the inadvertent emotional labour of others off my plate, so I can focus on me and the list of things I’m still working through.
The best conversation I’ve had in over four years of sobriety happened just this weekend. I was at a party and a girl I met that night was drinking from a Pump water bottle. “On the waters tonight?” I said (Which, in retrospect, I didn’t like that I said. It’s not my place to comment on what somebody’s drinking. I’m not perfect and am still learning myself. I did however honestly think for a moment it could have been straight vodka, which would have been pretty funny).
“Yeah, I’m designated driver tonight!” she happily replied. “What about you? Not drinking?” she asked.
“Oh nah, I don’t drink” I replied.
“Oh ok”. AND THAT WAS THAT. Perfect execution, 10/10, no notes! That’s how you respond when somebody tells you how you don’t drink. She understood basic context clues which are: if somebody wants to talk about something, they’ll keep talking about it. It’s truly as simple as that.
All of these interactions, microaggressions and constant justifications have culminated in feelings of being less than for a decision and lifestyle that I’m ultimately happy with. Do I wish I could handle alcohol like a ‘normal’ person? Sure. Have I found a way around it and can exist without it? For the most part! It’s mostly fine, and it’s mostly manageable. It would just be a fraction easier if people took two seconds to think about what they’re asking of people, and whether or not it’s something they desperately need to know, or something they’d like to know for the sake of two seconds of entertaining back and forth.