Day 175 - Drink Alone

Date: June 30th, 2010

I've spent my whole life knowing that certain members of my family were alcoholics.  Some in recovery, some functional but still drinking, some who dodged a bullet by realizing their disease early in life (before true problems arose).  Because of that, when I reached an age that I might start wanting to drink, my parents had the alcohol version of the birds and the bees talk with me.

From the first time I ever took a drink, I did so with the knowledge that alcoholism runs in my family.  So I was always strict with myself about drinking.  I never did it in the morning (with one notable St. Patty's Day exception).  I avoided doing it when I was sad or upset.  I stopped drinking anytime I started feeling sick (and the vast majority of the time, I stopped long before feeling sick).  And most importantly - I never drank alone.

See, of all the things I kept on the lookout for once I got old enough to drink, the whole "drinking alone" thing always seemed the most serious.  I couldn't entirely put my finger on why that would be though.  I mean, in theory, nothing about the light buzz brought on by alcohol would feel different if I were sitting by myself.  And yet, among all the caveats and warnings I was given before I joined in the debauchery of youth, "never drink alone" stood out above all.

After deep thought, contemplation and long day at work, I decided I needed a little bit of a night off from my project.  So, instead of going out on the town and looking for something new and exciting, I decided to do something new and calm.  I popped into the grocery store on the way home and snagged myself a small bottle of rum, intending to mix it with pop and settle down in front of the TV.

Granting that the action of drinking and the physical sensation of drinking are basically exactly the same, I found that drinking alone was actually significantly different than doing it with people.  Mainly in the fact that I was bored out of my mind.  Seriously.  The same light, floaty feeling that makes things seem just a touch funnier around friends, well, that made it harder to follow the plot on the crappy TV show I was watching.  The slightly reduced inhibition that leads to hilarious and goofy exchanges with hilarious and goofy people was utterly and completely wasted.  Not to mention that the slightly bitter taste of alcohol was much more noticeable when I was just sitting there and drinking.

The next morning it hit me why drinking alone is so commonly seen as an indicator of a problem with alcohol.  It wasn't fun.  There was nothing great about it.  Truth be told, it was kind of annoying.  I got bored and decided I'd rather be sober, but once the drinks have been drank its nothing doing.  I didn't enjoy the last hour or so at all, but that's how long it took for things to wear back off.

It hit me that enjoying drinking alone means enjoying drinking for drinking sake.  It means so enjoying the sensation caused by alcohol that it becomes the main reason to drink.  For me, the reason I like having a few drinks with friends isn't the drinks.  Its the friends.  Its an excuse to be a little more silly than usual and watch my friends do the same.

As someone with the family history that I have, though, it was nice to know firsthand why drinking alone is an indicator of alcoholism.  Even moreso, it was nice to known that I don't enjoy it.  Before I made the decision to try it, I felt some level of concern that I would enjoy it and be faced with having to contemplate problems with alcohol that I hadn't identified before.  Instead, I've grown more comfortable in the knowledge that while drinking can be fun, for me, its not a necessity.