Alcohol and Me

Inspired by a recent post from Chrissy Teigen who has recently completed one year of sobriety.

I didn’t grow up in a household where alcohol was a big thing.

Sure, my mum and Dad enjoyed the odd glass of wine with a meal, but never enough to get drunk or lose control. They had their reasons for this, particularly my dad who had witnessed first hand when growing up the affects that alcoholism can have on families.

I never liked the taste of alcohol until I found alcopops at the age of 16, when my mum sent me off to a party with some school friends with 2 Bacardi Breezers and an instruction not to drink them all. Bless her, they're mostly sugar, but now I'm older and have my own kids I understand her fears.

Once I entered 6th form I was flung into a world of parties every weekend and drinking, along with smoking (allow it, it was 2000) was big in social situations. Our school had a big drinking culture which included a 6th form bar (!!), and among other things a teacher who once invited us up to his flat and gave us booze on our last day of the autumn term, resulting in one of the girls in my class tripping over a chair in front of the whole school at the end of term chapel.

I even remember doing a play in lower 6th and having far too much vodka before I went on stage and I then ran headfirst into another cast member in front of the audience. Mortifying. Alcohol was so ingrained into the culture of the school that it didn't even occur to me to question it. It was a world away from what I had grown up with, and I was curious to try something new. I do look back on plenty of these moments (drunken headbutt moment included) and cringe though. Another such moment was my first experience of alcohol related blackouts. I was at a party and I tried several wines for the first time. It was then that I found myself somehow kissing the boy my friend liked. Something that sober I would never have contemplated. Many people don't believe that theory of being drunk and not knowing what you are doing, but all I remember is it was like I suddenly came to after having been passed out to find a drink had been thrown at me by my friend and I had no idea why. I had no recollection of what had happened in the few minutes before that. Unfortunately it didn't stop me from continuing with said boy in my drunken state - a very regrettable action on my part, but one I am sure wouldn't have happened had I not been wasted. One of several drunken encounters with boys that sober Hannah simply would not have had. A similar incident happened to me at the age of about 24 in Poland. A group of us had gone away on holiday for 4 nights to Krakow and one night had decided it would be a good idea to do not just jaeger bombs, but absinthe bombs, but not just absinthe bombs, FLAMING absinthe bombs?! I remember sitting in a restaurant that night and again it was like I suddenly came to after passing out - I couldn't remember anything about what had happened for about half an hour before that moment - it was just black. Not really surprising then that I ended up drunkenly screaming at my then partner in the street that same night. These blackouts were a terrifying insight into what alcohol can do to your brain and what is more scary is how vulnerable that can leave you. If you are conscious, but yet somehow completely unconscious, how can you ever be truly sure of exactly what you have done, and in fact whether you are safe?

It probably didn't help 16-18 year old me having an on and off boyfriend whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to get himself as obliterated as possible as often as possible. Aside from his roving eye it was one of his very favourite things to do. To this day I will never forget seeing a photo of him passed out in a friend's garden with vomit coming out of his mouth - a photo that his friends found hilarious at the time, and I found rather more disgusting, but the thought of it fills me with fear now I have children of my own. I remember being invited to a black tie party with said boyfriend (there were a lot of those at my school for 18th birthdays etc) and being the girl who fell flat on her face in front of everyone after too many tequila sunrises. I think the excessive drinking was one way that the kids at our school felt that somehow they were being adult, and many of us were probably mimicking the behaviour of parents. After all, it is well known that my parents' generation are on the whole, bigger drinkers than my generation. I will never forget my ex mother in law's face whenever I said I wasn't drinking on a given night. Her face would fall and she would look annoyed and ask "Why not?" so sometimes I would be cajoled into it for the easy life, or other times I would stand my ground, but it wasn't easy to do when surrounded by big drinkers.

Throughout my time at uni and in my 20's I carried on socially drinking and mostly having a great time, but there was the odd occasion where the excitement of the moment would take over and I would just take it too far and get hammered. I would come to the next day full of paranoia, having put my foot in it somehow, or being convinced that I had, or getting flashbacks of stupid things I had done. Like the time in my second year of uni I got so wasted that an ambulance had to be called and they had to break into my house because I was the only one inside and I had the only keys. I still feel terrible about the worry I caused one of my very best friends that night simply because I did not know when to stop. If you're reading this Kat, I'm still so very sorry. I remember stepping out of a house party that night on my way home, and it is literally like I blacked out the minute I was outside, as I remember nothing until a paramedic was yelling in my ear. Utterly frightening.

As I entered my 30's, alcohol became more of a crutch. A coping mechanism to deal with long hours at work, and eventually the end of my first marriage. I found it increasingly easy to have a glass or two of wine every night, and came to look forward to it as a nice treat to myself. I always had a limit though. I am lucky that I am the kind of person that most of the time recognises the bad habits, and puts a stop to them before they become too ingrained. However, I don't think I truly learned my lesson until October 2017. It was Halloween and I got far too drunk at a party Lee and I were hosting. I remember even whilst being drunk feeling totally mortified, and as soon as I realised how bad I was, I just removed myself from the party and hid away because I could not bear for anyone to witness it. It worked because it meant that no one saw me at my worst, but as I lay on the bathroom floor the next morning (an infamous moment in my life that Lee kindly documented), the guilt and low feeling I felt was just too much. I couldn't deal with feeling shame and sadness for 2 or 3 days after drinking any longer. It simply was not worth it. I was so desperate not to feel that way anymore. I wanted to be free of it.

Those who know me well know that by nature I am an over-thinker, and actually quite a paranoid person. (Something I am constantly working on). Alcohol magnifies that paranoia tenfold. It makes me depressed, it exacerbates my anxiety, it gives me the aforementioned blackouts (which I have sometimes had even after only 1 or 2 drinks) and it makes me forget things instantly (I have found myself asking the same question of people again and again on nights out - soo embarrassing when you are meeting people for the first time, especially in a work situation). I wouldn't consider myself an alcoholic, but I am definitely someone who alcohol affects on quite a serious mental level if I am not careful. I haven't given up booze altogether, but I don't drink a great deal anymore, and I am all the happier for it. I drink more now because I enjoy the drink rather than the fact that it is booze. A cold glass of rose or a nice G&T on a hot day can be wonderful, and I won't lie, I still get a bit of a buzz about the treat of having a drink, but I have no desire to be anything but in control now. Getting giggly and tipsy is one thing, getting hammered for me is extremely unlikely to happen. When the bad outweighs the good and your mental health is at stake, it just isn't worth it anymore.

This life change is probably why you will find me avoiding certain social situations. Often in order for me to feel happy to drink, I have to feel that I am in a safe place surrounded by people I can trust. In the past I have found myself in scenarios where the people I am with simply do not respect the reasons why I won't have a drink, and accuse me of being boring. However, what I have come to realise is that this says far more about them than it does about me. Why does their having a good time depend on me drinking alcohol, especially in an every day setting? I like to think I am still more than capable of having fun without being hammered - I am an outgoing and sociable person who loves to laugh - I do that plenty sober, so why does alcohol always have to be a factor? I'm bored of it, and I am simply not prepared to put my happiness and mental health second to someone else's fun. So I'm sorry, but if you're that person and don't respect my mental health, then fuck your good time. If you wanna get smashed, you do you babe. It's just not for me anymore and I resent feeling like I have to justify myself when those applying the pressure are never made to do.

Younger generations seem to be rejecting the heavy drinking culture of my parents' generation and older, and indeed, my brother was doing that at a time when drinking culture was still very big, something which I have always had such a huge level of respect for. It cannot have been easy to stand his ground at times, especially at uni, and when part of various football teams, where the pressure to be a certain way can be overwhelming. He will have a drink occasionally, but his ability to go out and have a good time has never been dependent on alcohol, and there is such a huge level of freedom in that if you can cast off the burden of other people's opinions. Hell, the man went to see David Guetta live in NYC one Thanksgiving stone cold sober! Good for him!

There are times I am tempted to go completely teetotal. Just give it all up. There must be some real liberation in doing so amongst the struggles. But I am not sure I feel I need or want to do that at this point. I feel as long as my reasons for drinking are the right ones, and that does not change, then I can be sure that my mental health will be safe. But if you see me, or indeed anyone else you know, nursing a soft drink instead of booze, maybe think before you write us off as boring. Maybe think about the reasons why we might not have a pint or a glass of wine in our hand. Maybe think about why it matters to you so much. You might just find with some of us that it is for our own emotional safety, and not because we have forgotten how to have fun.