TW: Alcohol
I come from a long line of heavy drinkers. I was my dad’s beer runner. I would put wine in the fridge for Mom when she had a long day. When my sisters were old enough to drink, I’d put a glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen on their nightstand.
It was all really normal growing up. Trying to play a game, but Dad was too drunk to read the card. Knowing that I would be the designated driver as soon as I got my permit. (Joke’s on them, I’ve barely DD’d for them.) Every holiday focused more on the alcohol than the company after a certain age.
My sisters would push their glasses into my underage hands, telling me to just take a sip to know if I liked it. I never did.
Mom still complains that Dad acts like he can’t have a conversation unless he has either alcohol or marijuana in his system. Every night, between seven and eight, he has to get out of his mind somehow.
It all sounds worse than it really was. Mom hardly drinks to the point of getting drunk, but she uses it to unwind. My sisters have slowed down a lot. Dad, though. Well, mom’s making him do a dry November.
We all thought he would stop after he got a DUI around New Year’s a couple of years ago. Now he is at least more careful when he knows he’ll be driving, but it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
My dad, more than anyone, has made me dislike alcohol. I have no judgment towards people who drink, but I put limits on myself to keep myself from turning into him. I don’t want to be tipsy to be able to talk to people around me. I give myself one day every month or two that I’ll drink.
Even with that, I can’t help thinking about a drink to take the edge off, like my mom would always say. Or how much easier it would be to make friends if I were to bar hop with them. But I won’t.
This past weekend, I drank. I do it infrequently enough that I really don’t understand how to pace. It’s the drunkest I’ve ever been, and I loved the feeling for most of it. I felt lighter. I didn’t have to think about my finance homework. Every breath had laughter. Why don’t I let myself give in to that feeling of floating more?
Then I think about stumbling back to the car, my boyfriend helping me get ready for bed because I could barely control my arms, and constantly needing to use the bathroom. I think about how the darkness spun around me while I tried to sleep and how quickly I went from laughing to crying.
That’s not even including the hangover the next day.
I definitely learned my limit. And it was fun to learn, and I stayed safe.
After, though, I don’t know if I want to do that again. I can feel myself craving that feeling again, just from one night. If I did this more, how quickly would I slip into drinking too much? Dad, my sister, and brother, along with the rest of his side of the family, have had issues with alcohol.
I don’t want to become dependent on something to make me feel light. It doesn’t even taste good, and it hurts my stomach. Not drinking makes me feel left out of social situations, but overall, it’s better for me.
I think for now I’ll stick to the one night of drinking per month, maybe less. Just a special occasion kind of thing. It’s important for me to have a good time, no booze, as well, though. It’s just hard when almost everyone around me is drinking. That’s when a mocktail comes in handy.
There’s been an uptick in sober spaces, which is good. It’s still stuck in my mind that you need to drink to have a good time. I know it’s not true, but the thought still lingers. Trying to reconcile my family’s habits with what I want my future to look like is hard.
Choosing to be sober most of the time in a family that likes to drink can make me feel like the black sheep. As a bonus for them, though, they don’t need to worry about a DD! My sisters don’t make me try their drinks anymore; Dad grabs his own booze. Mom still has me chill her wine, but not as much. I may come from heavy drinkers, but I don’t need to be one myself.