11:26 am
Last night, I went to our annual (well, two years and counting) Christmas party thrown by our “rich” friend–needless to say, there were lots of corks popping.
Firstly, I brought chilled sorrel tea, and it was my lifesaver! (I also had my boyfriend, who doesn’t drink; he smokes weed, but that’s not a big deal to me unless it becomes the focus of the event, which it wasn’t last night.) If anyone has ever tried sorrel tea, it looks just like wine or a mixed drink AND, it’s quite thirst-quenching–I didn’t miss a belly-full of wine, in other words. And, it gave me the opportunity to observe, pretending I was “one of them” without actually being one of them.
Everyone was drinking, of course. “Being festive,” but really, this is a drinking crowd, so the “festive” was more like “pretty damn drunk” for some. No one did or said anything wrong; in fact, everyone was a good drunk. However, I did get to watch it unfold as it usually does: first, you’re chatting, being polite and civil and a little tipsy; then comes what I like to call the shit-talk and secret drinking games. Like, well, talking shit and doing what appears to the sober folks in the room be strange things: having long, whispered conversations about nothing, or topics you’ll regret the next day; two people suddenly racing up the stairs, only to disappear for a half hour and then, tumble back into the room, flushed, giddy. Hilarious, right? So much fun, right?
Right. The biggest thing I noticed–and, it’s not the first time, which is why I’m blogging about it–is just how out of control drinking makes you. How vulnerable. I mean, obviously, I KNOW THIS, from my years of putting myself in ridiculous situations–jail and car crashes and blackout sex are an alcoholic’s version of vulnerable, but there is a gradient, and you become part of it even if you’re a “social drinker.”
Vulnerable in that, you have conversations where you talk too much or say things too loud, for the most part; I don’t have to mention sitting on laps and flirting with people in front of friends. Now, I come from years upon years of overexposing myself emotionally and physically while getting shitfaced; I’ve had enough, and so I LIKE being tight-lipped, controlled, only allowing you to see exactly what I want. Doesn’t mean I’m not aware of this or a dry drunk; it means I like being the one in control, the observer, able to go home knowing exactly what I said and did.
My main question right now is, why on earth would someone make themselves so vulnerable by drinking too much? All you do is make yourself vulnerable–to talking shit, to having conversations that you might regret the next day, wondering what you said because you don’t remember it and then feeling scared and frenetic because you’re not sure what you said and you’re not sure how drunk the other person was and if they’re going to think you’re a complete dumb-ass for rambling and over-sharing. Not to mention, all the other terribly-exposing shit that comes with drinking–flirting uncontrollably, showing too much interest or maybe interest that you’re not ready to share with your friends; telling people about your abusive childhood; revealing just how bitchy you are, or how insecure you are, or how generous and happy of a wobbly drunk you are.
Why would you do this to yourself? At the end of the day, no matter how alone I feel sometimes in sobriety, last night taught me that I SO prefer to feel a little bit on the “outside” than be exposing myself and making myself vulnerable in exchange for being part of the “secret club”–which is what happens between drinks, not because of them.
I’m feeling a bit grumpy lately, mainly because of this freelance life I live, but I’ll move past it and keep working. I have 275 days today–goal is 300, so I’m almost there! My “alcohol-free” beer experience the other day made me go, Hmmmmm: not only did I see that drinking might simply not do it for me anymore, but, it also sparked a curiosity about wine. Maybe just one glass?
I’ll put it on the back burner–no, back in the package in the freezer–for now, where it belongs. I’ve got work and holidays and shit to do, no time for thinking about stupid drinking!
Drunky Drunk Girl 
I’m quite the voyeur when it comes to drinking. “But for the grace of God there go I”,
goes the old saying. Watching makes me grateful. Makes me see myself in that silly ass woman doing EVERYTHING you mentioned. What a learning experience parties are!
It’s wonderful to gain insight from the “other side” .
“My main question right now is, why on earth would someone make themselves so vulnerable by drinking too much?” Because we can’t help it. It’s what we do until we learn not to. One drink will lead to many…maybe not THIS particular party, but at some “party in the near future.
Merry Christmas DDG…it appears you’ve already received one of the best gifts you’ll every get!
Thank you! Yes, I like to watch and feel grateful it’s not me–and, that the people I’m watching don’t go overboard, you know? I’m not wishing harm on anyone, I’ve been there and no one else needs it!
Hiya clever lady….it is the loss of control that I hate most of all….the vulnerability, letting myself down. I get so much from your posts. You truly have incredible insight. I am going to print this post out and keep it with me. Arohanui 🙂
Oh, thank you so much. I really just hope to connect with people who drink like me, and who wonder and question and are open-minded to this whole thing! Hugs!
Sorrel tea? I am going to google that.
I find it really interesting observing the stuff you mention here. Even the social drinkers, the normies, expose too much. Sure, they might not sleep with someone in blackout, or fall down the stairs drunk, but they will say stuff they didn’t mean to say. I used to think I was a hilarious drunk – honest, witty, outrageous. Looking back I think I was just drunk and obnoxious…and I seriously offended some people. Me and my big mouth.
Me, too. Which is why I really CAN sit there and watch everyone else drink and not feel too whine-y anymore. Like, I don’t want that, or that, or that. I can see now that what happens *while* drinking–even for “social drinkers” is sometimes as lame as what happens after (blackout, horrible things, hangover). I’ve just been there done that.
Yes, there is something about sorrel that makes me feel…sated. I dunno, like, I feel *almost* as satisfied drinking that as I would wine. Good holiday drink, too, and good to come to a party “armed” with something so delicious-looking!
I know exactly what you mean. I scratch my head and wonder “What the fuck was I thinking???????” and “How did I not get more hurt??????”
Drunk people are so…..drunk.
Proud of you. That’s a boatload of sober days. Hugs. 🙂
Thank you, Amy! Means so much.
Yeah, my God! I wonder now, not wtf was I thinking (I’ve given up on trying to figure that one out), but, WHY? I mean, why was I so willing to self-destruct, assuming that making yourself vulnerable is a form of self-harm. Why? Did I just not see it that way, or did I know what I was doing? And, why are so many others oblivious to this huge drawback to drinking? Why did I never consider it bad, I always considered it a good thing, a release, whatever?
Hugs right back!
I guess I always thought that everyone else was doing it, too, but they really were not at all. Ugh. I remember hoping on many occasions, after the fact, that the people I was talking to were as drunk as me. You are right…so stupidly vulnerable. I had to be taken care of so many times and I always thought someone would be there if I needed help. Stupid, egotistical, and careless. Not to beat myself up. 🙂
Do you make your own sorrel tea? It sounds like a nice drink to bring to a party.
xx
Yes, I was like that, too. And, while it was all the bad things you say, it was also a cry for help maybe? For me, it was a way to let people get to know me, the “real” me, or so I thought. Like, if you can see THIS part of me, then I can trust you–I am showing you that I trust you by letting you take care of my drunken ass. So mental!
No, no beating of self up! That is how you WERE, but this is how you are now. And, you know, you were just doing the best you could, at the time. All of us were.
Yeah, I just get dried sorrel (hibiscus) leaves, and follow the recipe on the back of the package, minus the sugar: sorrel, ginger, cloves, cinnamon…plus, some optional spices. So good! It’s a drink that makes me NOT want more, if you can believe that! And, it’s very holiday-y.
What a great piece and wonderful observing …we have to pass the time 😉
Why oh why did I never question why I was just going along without question?
Why did I just accept that it had to be that way and why was there never a good example of another way?
This is why though I don’t shout I’m an alcoholic from the rooftops, I want to be a super cool, sober rocks, kind of example so that they might see there is another path!
Happy Christmas!
C xx
Interesting thoughts: I know that I put myself there because the horror of drinking Lisa, was less than the horror of a sober Lisa. I was absolutely paralyzed with who might be living within me if there wasn’t a cocktail inside me first. good stuff DDG (as usual) Wishing you happy holidays and thank you for your friendship. You are a nice part of my sober journey. with love, L