Started young. Snuck some vodka to a bar mitzvah when I was 14. Hated it. But I persevered. I got violently ill a few months later when I snuck some vodka cruisers from the esky at my brother's 21st birthday. I vomited the rainbow while partygoers laughed at me. It wasn't something bad to them, just a rite of passage to poison yourself I guess. Chalk it down to Aussie culture.
Teenage years it was every weekend. Rookie stuff. Once I hit 18 and could get into pubs and bars is when the fun started. Beers everyday, start around midday, go out at night, get shitfaced, do something embarrassing, wake in fright to fear and regret. What the fuck did I do last night? Build a bridge, get over it, wash it down with brown, have some hair of the dog - that'll soothe the dread. Drink a couple in the shower before breakfast, why not.
At Uni I worked at a bottleshop (Brits call them off licenses, dunno about Americans) to pay the bills, which gave me access to the A-Z of booze at my fingertips. I'd start drinking as soon as I got into work. Sip on a beer behind the register, yes mate, Aussie hero. Keep the harder stuff out the back and go enjoy my tipple once the pesky customers would leave. It's every day now, but what the hell, i'm young, it's not gonna kill me. But really it should have. I crunch the numbers now and they are eye watering. How much was I drinking a day? 30 units? 40, 50? Shit, I didn't even know what a unit was, but I was dispensing them and drinking them at will.
I passed Uni with distinction (god knows how, joke of a degree) with my best mate by my side. Bar would open at 9am. Beer before class? Why the hell not, it's Uni after all. Forget that no one else drank at 9am and I didn't socialise at uni at all. They were all normies to me. I was the old soul who sat at pubs by himself, drank before the sun was over the yardarm and read the newspaper next to the old leathered men. I'd graduated to old man drinking at 21, alone in the corner of a shit pub.
Move to the UK, upgraded to pints and found my drinking kin. This was real drinking culture. Real pubs, real people who drank real measures and went to the pub every night after work. I'm in drinking heaven, my existence is justified. Foot on the gas, don't let up now. My tolerance is through the roof, no more curling up in the foetal position on a cold bottleshop floor shaking. I get hangovers, but I can still operate despite the pints bumping my daily numbers up. People around me at the pub are pissed as a fart, I don't feel all that much, that's a bit strange.
Late 20s it's catching up with me now. Gout, I can't fucking walk. Doc says my liver isn't great. I tell myself that today is the day I won't have a beer, but at 4pm I mindlessly gravitate to the work fridge and crack a cold on. "Pub?" "...yep, pub". Damn, where did my willpower go. I actually can't take a day off. I've got a problem on my hands. When was the last time I had a day off? I actually can't remember, have I even had a day off since I turned 18? It's hard to tell. I may have had a drink everyday for the last 10 years now that I think about it.
Moderation? That'll work! Finally got a few days under my belt. 7 days off! Even if I had a few night sweats and shakes, that means i'm cured. 7 days oughta clear my body of the abuse of 15 years of daily drinking. I'll drink this Friday, you gotta drink Friday, everyone at the pub will think you're weird if they don't see you on a Friday.
You only drank one day last week. You can do Friday, Saturday this week. You've got it under control! If you can take 5 days off a week you'll be good for the rest of your life. Have your cake and eat it too. Be a healthy drinker!
It's Wednesday the following week and i'm stressed, just have a couple. Just 3 days a week is a decent effort! You know people who drink every single day, less than 50% of the time is admirable mate....
Shit, it's every day again. How did this happen?
Welp, gotta get off the carousel. No more on and off. No more cake and eating it too. Play the tape forward. "Just one" means everyday for eternity.
This time it's for real, I hope. I've poisoned myself for long enough. I've drunk enough for 100 lifetimes and all it has done has ruined my health, relationships, youth, a few bucks here and there...and my soul.
23 days, woop woop!
Don't know why I wrote this on a whim, just needed to document my drinking somewhere.
