I have a hard time remembering when I had my first a drink. If there was choice even involved in that decision.
Working through the fog is a memory of an apartment my brother was living in or visiting. He was sitting poolside in a white cracked rubber chair drinking a tall Budweiser, and said, Here…try this.
In my teens, having the ability to discern the drug inside this can that I would eventually become addicted to wasn’t ever going to happen. I’m sure I made a face of digust and wondered how he could keep drinking it.
Given how deeply engrained alcohol is in society, as a kid, I’m sure I was getting signals all the time. Neighbors. Grocery stores. Ads on TV. The curiosity was building even if I didn’t fully understand what the point of it was.
When I graduated from high school, I went with a group of friends on spring break to Daytona Beach. One of the essentials was a beer bong. I never wanted to be the one who was good at it, the purpose was to get you fucked up quicker. And that’s what really mattered right?
Beyond all the liquor, beer and beer bongs, a friend had rufees and (little did I know) they were like drinking 8 beers, why not take one of those as well?
It’s all flashes at this point. Bar after bar. Shows. Lights. Pounding music. Eyebrow pierced. Hit the beer bong. Throw up. Hungry. No ride. Friend is passed out on the bed. “Convince” to borrow his car. Drive. Traffic. Crash. Back of a police car. Orange suit. Different kind of bars.
In all of the situations around drinking, there’s an element of belonging. Being a part of a group or experience. Alcohol is embedded in everything. It’s what everyone does. It’s what the cool kids do…(did).
You want to go to parties to be around people, to socialize and connect, so you drink. You go to a sporting event, you tailgate before the game. You go to a wedding and anxiously shake your leg during the vows, waiting to dart over to the open bar. You drink so you can have more confidence on the dance floor, or you drink and watch from the sidelines. What else are you supposed to do with your hands?
The thread is be longing for connection. Being yourself. Being seen.
We aren’t meant to be alone. We’re bound the minute we are born. We thrive through social experiences, so remove the drug that ties so many of those experiences together, what do we have? Fear of isolation. And then the shame spiral starts with the voice in your head that doesn’t stop. Do I chose to drink and be a part of the crowd? Or do I chose not to and take that risk?
How does a person who doesn’t want to drink feel they ever have the choice to say no and still feel accepted? To still feel a part of the group?
The struggle is real and it makes sense as to why a person would hesitate to let it go. We are slowly waking up though. There are more choices than ever for NA drinks. The trend of drinking less is going downward, even more so for Gen-Z.1
Back in February, I launced The Sober Creative Collective with the intention to build a community for people who wanted a safe space to create beyond drinking. A room where belonging starts to take shape the moment a person steps in. The same space you can share some type of creative art, while the next day share the grief of losing a close friend.
Poetry. Selling out at a bakery market. Holding silence for a setback. WonderWalks.
A choice that each person made their own. A choice to belong in a room not defined by the drink in their hand.
https://www.samhsa.gov/data/sites/default/files/reports/rpt56287/2024-nsduh-annual-national/2024-nsduh-annual-national-html-071425-edited/2024-nsduh-annual-national.htm?utm_source=chatgpt.com#alcohol