Monday, April 23, 2012

On Getting Drunk

Happened again last night (or 2 nights ago because it took me at least one entire day to recover and be at a point where I could write) - got wasted, I'm not talking buzzed - completely obliterated. I don't why. I hate when it happens and each time it does I make a secret vow never to touch alcohol again, realizing for the millionth time that I actually purposely put large quantities of poison into my body, not to mention the physical state I'm left in the next morning. I am convinced at some point even before the first drop hits my mouth I do make a sub-, semi-, fully-conscientious decision to let myself get to that point. A form of self destruction.

The last time I got this wasted was probably 2 years ago - back at a reunion where I went to college. It's always with the same crew, the guys who I came to age with, with whom I conditioned my body to actively grab a container holding some form of alcohol and bringing to my open mouth and then pour it down my mouth. These guys still live this lifestyle of self torture, the cycle of extreme inebriation one night with the full day of hurt the next, not to mention the lack of productivity - which kills me and my "be productive" mentality. I guess it's worth it for most at some level or else it wouldn't be repeated. It certainly was for me in college, in fact I'd say I was drunk 40% of the time I called Davis home. Triggered by what, I don't know, a physical addiction which I doubt because I could go long periods without if needed, I always thought it was some form of mental or a social need, an identity I needed to live or live up to or even a fundamental desire to fit in.

I remember the first time I pissed myself. My first year in college I just found out my high school girl friend cheated on me so I went to the "house" called up some guys, got a handle of vodka and orange juice (more vodka than orange juice and proceeded to drown my sorrows). Woke up wet, the only time this ever happened. Or my 21st birthday where I was put in the "drunk tank" for threatening to kick an officers ass. The second time I had a run in with the law due to alcohol was when I broke into and destroyed the inside of a rival fraternity house, that cost me thousands in restitution, my friend 2,000 in bail and a taint on my permanent record. Being drunk comes at at a literal price. And often times the beast within finds it's freedom when the drink forces your guard to look the other way i.e. after another break up - and lots of drinking I jumped out of a moving cab, threw trash bags and kicked down anything I could, ran off into the dark getting lost for hours - I didn't even know what I was responding to until an entire day later - that's why I'm convinced the decision comes at the semi-conscientious level but somehow directly connected to the conscientious - like dreams. In a lot of ways what plays out when drunk often times is a live action version of what could be a dream.

After all this, it happens again. All the near puking, dehydration, mental and physical fatigue, diarrhea and not the mention the hurt I cause others because for a night I became Mr. Hyde. How to make it stop - forever.

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