Now that I’m of drinking age (and let’s be honest, a couple years before my 21st bday) holidays just kind of include alcohol. For God’s sake, we call the day before Thanksgiving “Blackout Wednesday” in my hometown….for obvious reasons. Every year, I am a literal dumbass. This year, I even convinced myself that my own family was so disappointed in my drunk decisions that they didn’t love me as much.
I know that seems ridiculous, but your girl has social anxiety for the decade so like empathize for a sec.
So, we know what like the Sunday scaries are, right? It’s like when you wake up after a night of drinking and have a pit in your stomach trying to remember all the things you said and did the night before. Usually, in the college years, this also is accompanied by waking up in like a Twin XL bed in a dorm you’ve never been to sober. Cross my fingers, hope to die, this has NEVER happened to me… but the “scaries” and I are old friends. Literally, every single time I have more than two drinks I have the scaries.
Dude, I’ve seen that FB post that went viral were that girl looks like she got hit by a train and then like a literal health goddess when she goes sober. It’s crossed my mind. I have had many (failed) attempts to be the sober one at all the parties.
I gave up underage drinking for a WHILE when I started taking anti-depressants. Not because I was scared of the warnings that the doctors were giving me, but because I was already a total fucking bitch… tequila was not a good ingredient to add this hot mess. This year, when I was having some issues with migraines, I gave up alcohol too. Being the constant DD was okay for a bit, but it gets old, fast. Alcohol, was my buffer, and when I didn’t have it… there really wasn’t an incentive for me to get ready and go out. My social anxiety was never going to be eased by a shot, so what was the point?
This has been the worst year when it comes to the scaries. I proudly can say that my hangovers have never been so bad that I want to die. I don’t need someone to hold my hair very often. Literally, one glass of water and 3 motrin & I’m good… physically.
Mentally, though, is a different story. Anxiety is through the roof. I feel like I’m about to dive headfirst into a panic attack at any minute. I hate not being in control of my body – hence, why I struggle with panic attacks and anxiety attacks so much. So, when I put myself in a position where that control is not in my own hands but in the hands of the alcohol I drank…. that’s an issue. All I want to do is sleep to avoid negative inner dialogue. Seriously, guys, I’ve slept like 30 of the last 48 hours because I don’t want to be awake to relive the stupid comments I made when I was drunk.
So, let’s just fucking talk about it, rather than freak out about it till next Blackout Wednesday. If I introduced you to my boyfriend, we are not, in fact, dating. My ass would be lucky to be dating him, however, I have some commitment issues to conquer before I can get all serious with a nice boy. SO, yeah, I’m kind of a douche for that, but I just want to announce the fact that drunk Emily is VERY loving, VERY into attention, and VERY unaware of the skeletons that do exist when she sobers up. The fact that I feel ready for a new boy and can completely forget about the scars left on me by the infamous, Tommy* when I’m drinking, just make the comedown even harder. Like, why can’t I just be okay and not push away a nice, cute boy that likes me when the alcohol is all dried up? But THAT is another blog. So, shoutout to him. He knows who he is. I don’t have to use some bullshit name for him.
Okay, my heart’s pounding, but it’s out there. On Thursday, I got in the car with Sullivan and I said that phrase that all the hungover bitches say, “Oh my god. I’m never drinking again.” You know you’ve said it. Even Sullivan called me out for that.
But honestly, I feel like I have felt the urge of drinking because I want the buffer of awkwardness to go away. The option of not drinking has always seemed like something that a 45 would do if they had just finished a stint at rehab. A 22 year old saying that they weren’t really drinking lately would signal to me that someone was either A) pregnant or B) lame.
I’m a grown ass adult. I can choose when to drink and how much to have as long as I’m not driving. But, I’ve felt like I couldn’t say no because I am young and “you’re only young once!” After a couple days ago, though, I realized how much I just don’t really like it. I don’t mind being that friends that has two drinks and can drive home at the end of the night. I don’t mind being the one that knew what she said all night.
Instead of being pregnant and lame, maybe I’ve gotta be the one that’s like “I just don’t fucking like being drunk!” It makes my anxiety and depression worse and I don’t fucking deal with that well.
This blog is opening my mind and heart too. Alcohol might not effect others with mental illness in the same way. That if you don’t want to go out and get drunk when everyone else is, you don’t have to. When people are going to the bar, you can go for the social aspect without feeling crazy. I do it too! You can say no with love. You can say yes on your own terms. So, even if this is not my announcement of being sober. This is my announcement that I don’t really like Drunk Emily very much. I don’t really love the decisions that I make when I’m drunk. The scaries can put me in a dark place and they can hurt the people around me.
My relationship with alcohol is complicated. It’s something that I’m learning about every single day. I’m learning through the mistakes especially. So, if you’re also struggling with these holiday scaries…. you are not alone, my friend! Crack a water – we got this!