What if No One's Watching?

Fish swim/Birds fly
Daddies yell/Mamas cry
Old men/Sit and think
I drink
Mary Gauthier

Most people who are out of their immediate post-teen years, I find, have thought some about the relationship they have or want to have with alcohol. In the U.S., booze is so culturally pervasive that people sort of have to think about it. You can decide you don't want it in your life at all, you can drink non-stop, and you can make all manner of intermediary decisions, but generally, some sort of decision is made.

I'm no exception. Actually, I've probably given more thought to alcohol and the place I want it to occupy in my life than most people have, just because I am unfailingly narcissistic.

Like a lot of people, I come from a long line of alcoholics. My father is a drinking alcoholic. Whether or not his alcoholism is "functional" depends completely on who you ask. My mother's father was also an alcoholic, though he was sober for a couple of decades before his death. And so it goes, back and back. A sad story maybe, but hardly an unusual one.

My own relationship with alcohol began with a bang when I was 14. My first drink was followed immediately by my second, third, fourth, and so on. This was followed by the only blackout I have ever had and a violent bout of alcohol poisoning. I was just melodramatic enough at that age to find the whole situation romantic. Now I just think it's stupid, of course. After that, I didn't drink a whole lot in high school. There were definitely a few times, and there was one notable time where I was stupid enough to get into a car with someone who had been drinking (luckily nothing happened), but I wasn't a big drinker. When I drank, I always drank to excess, but at that age that isn't really much of a surprise.

In college, my drinking increased (also not a big surprise). I still drank to excess if I was going to drink, but I didn't do it that often. I was around a lot of people who drank a lot, and it just wasn't for me. My tendency was not to drink on week nights, for example. It was also during this time period that my dad, who had been sober for about eight years, picked up his bottle again. That was pretty frightening. Still, I never gave a lot of thought to my own drinking. It wasn't a concern, it was just something one did.

The first day of my last year in college, I turned 21. I hadn't thought it would be, but legal drinking was different than illegal drinking. Being able to buy my own booze opened up a possibility that I hadn't previously considered--I could now drink without anyone else knowing about it. My last year of college was difficult for all sorts of emotional reasons that seem really silly now but very much were not at the time. I drank. More than I should have, probably. And I learned to drink alone. The summer after I graduated things were even worse (unemployed, broke, adrift, unrequited, all that jazz). I entered a very very stupid relationship. I drank more. I drove drunk. I was a mess.

And then I stopped. My life straightened out, and I quit drinking. For a couple of years, I quit more or less completely. My thought was that I was clearly unable to drink in a social, adult manner, so I'd be better off not to drink at all. My life didn't suffer from not drinking--I simply politely declined alcohol when it was offered to me, and that was that.

After a while, though, I started thinking that never drinking, being a teetotaler, was just as bad as drinking in excess. Never drinking was becoming more socially uncomfortable, and it was making drinking an issue, which is the exact opposite of what I wanted it to be. I didn't want to never drink, I wanted to drink like a grown-up.

So, very slowly, I started drinking again, on occasion and never excessively. Slowly, I learned to drink socially. I learned to appreciate wine, and even some beer. I went weeks or months between drinks, and still usually had only one and never more than two at a sitting. I didn't particularly enjoy drinking--I never drank enough for it to make any difference to my state of mind, and I hadn't developed a taste for most drinks yet--but I did it in a way that made it a non-issue. For several years.

In the past few years, and particularly in the past year or so, my drinking has shifted again. Several things have changed. One is that I like to drink now--I have had enough occasions to drink that I now know my preferences when it comes to alcohol, what I like (white wine, dark beer, rum-based cocktails, margaritas) and what I don't (light beer, vodka, whiskey). Another is that I have more and more successfully learned to navigate the area between totally sober and roaring drunk, and enjoy being in that area. It's a moving target--used to happen after 2-3 drinks, now happens after 5-6--but it's one I have a better and better handle on. I've also learned that there is no shame in drinking when no one else is drinking, and that there is no shame in not drinking when everyone else is. Drinking at home is fine, and doesn't have to have the ominous shades of a bottle under your bed. It is a personal decision, and that's fine.

One thing hasn't changed, though. Just like I did in college, I still really like to get drunk. If there weren't the consequences there are, I'd get drunk, past that pleasantly buzzed point to actual drunk, a lot more often than I do. Now, I get actually drunk maybe once or twice a year. I think that for an adult woman this is totally reasonable, given that my responsibilities are taken care of (which they are) and that I don't drive (which I don't). However, it comes with a warning light, always. I have to be honest with myself about the desire to drink to excess, and what that says about my personality and capacities. I know how very occasional drunkenness can slip into less occasional drunkenness. I know it can happen to me. I know I have to be careful, and that being careful requires a constant renegotiation of boundaries. Drinking and not thinking about it, about the broader consequences and what it means, is a luxury I am never going to have, and honestly, it is one that most people aren't ever going to have. So I think about it. I renegotiate. If I feel like my control is slipping, I make sure I can still stop.

What about you? Do you drink?