30-Day Drawing Challenge: Day 12

I feel like it would be a little silly for me to draw this, my drawing/blog project, even though it feels like a much bigger accomplishment (despite how far behind I am) than what I'm about to discuss. I have to save that for the end, unfortunately, so instead I'm going to talk about a small accomplishment that still feels really, really good: staying in the no-hangover zone.

I'm not an alcoholic (though it does run in my family on my dad's side); on the other hand, I've realized recently that it's rare that, once I start drinking, I stop when it's appropriate. I like to think I knew where that line was at some point, but maybe I'm romanticizing the past. I don't know -- I just know that there have been way too many times where I've told myself I could have just one more, only to deeply regret it the next day.

It was different five or six years ago, in my early 20s -- which is funny considering that that's the time when everyone expects you to drink the most heavily. My self-destructive phase was more in my mid-20s, after college, when I was single. I went out all the time, especially when I lived in Allston. I think mostly I was bored, and getting drunk and being foolish was an easy way to distract myself without feeling truly responsible for the consequences of my actions.

These days, I don't go out with self-destruction in mind the way I used to, but alcohol has become a part of my daily existence in a different way. I don't drink every day, but it has somehow become an integral part of every weekend and every social engagement. It's extremely rare that I spend time with friends in any context without alcohol. It's not the worst thing -- we're all fully functional adults with jobs and creative lives and relationships and blah blah blah. Maybe it really isn't that big of a deal. But... maybe it is?

As someone who struggles with anxiety, it's disturbingly easy for me to rely on alcohol as a social lubricant. After a drink or two, I stop clenching my teeth and fists; my tongue loosens and I laugh more frequently. On paper, that sounds like a good thing... until you read the next chapter and discover what happens after drink four or five or six. My habit of mentally reliving embarrassing drunken moments for days after they happen should be enough to stop me or at least slow me down, but it doesn't. Hangovers don't seem to bother me much, either.

But how difficult would it really be if I went out one night and hardly drank, or drank nothing at all?

I tested myself twice last week. As it turned out, the fear I had built up over confronting the world sober, anxiety and all, was much worse than the reality. And waking up the following days, maybe a little tired but without a hint of a hangover, able to remember the conversations I had, was heavenly. I'm a creature of habit, so it may take a lot of reminders that I am just as awesome sober as I am tipsy to make social sobriety a regular thing, but I think it's worth a try. That doesn't mean I'll never drink again, of course, but I don't have to drink every time alcohol is available to me, and I don't have to drink to the point of intoxication. I have a lot of nasty habits I want to change, and it seems like this is a good place to start. Wish me luck.