This list of impediments just keeps on giving
I thought a lot about what the summer would bring. I was nervous about the warm weather, that beautiful summer vibe, the feels everybody gets these months. Laughter and life from every crack and corner of the city, people dispersing further and further across the grass and stones, breaching established boundaries in the name of a sunny spot, a nice little corner by the water to dip their toes, or maybe in the shade of a tree for a well-earned cooling. All of this with beverages of their choice, brightening the mood and encouraging everyone to let loose. It’s been uplifting to witness, but also not without a sense of sadness.
Most people agree that alcohol is not necessary to have a good time, that relationships worth their salt aren’t dependent on alcohol. And they are right. I agree on every count. I’ve experienced first-hand how most of my own relationships are way more sturdy than I gave them credit for.
But I can’t escape the suspicion that this sturdiness stems mostly from them.
I’ve come to see that I’m not built to engage in every kind of social setting without alcohol. I am not always strong enough. And I shouldn’t test or put myself in situations on the assumption that if other people can do it, I should be able to as well. I should steer clear of these situations, instead of engaging in them, trying to muscle my way through. It’s too hard.
With this also comes the no. An answer I’ve used a lot more the last six months than I normally would. I say no to more invitations, and I instigate fewer hangouts as well. There is nothing I’d like more than to go to my friend’s summer house and spend the night with all the boys, barbecuing, having a good time, drinking beers and shooting the shit. But I can’t. To me, it just isn’t the same, even though theoretically, there shouldn’t be a difference. There shouldn’t, right? I mean, it’s just alcohol. I can have fun without it, right?
Sadly, no. Not always. And not in all situations. I find myself veering away from certain crowds or situations, no matter how much I love the vibe and the people, because it just wouldn’t be the same for me if I couldn’t drink with them. In this sense, alcohol has cut me permanently. I feel the incredible depth of this gash, a mark of how culture has shaped me for decades, and it’s something I can’t rid myself of easily by just stopping. I fear I might never rid myself of this weakness, this missing skill of living a life fully and completely without the affliction and influence alcohol has.