Origin of Species

I'm a bit of a lightweight. It only takes me one drink to get drunk. Problem is, I don't know if it's the 12th or 13th one.

Running a pantry check of my fridge, it's been cleared of the 12 beers. 2 empty wine bottles stand tall on the kitchen counter beside it. The acidic burp tells me it was red.

Another weekend, another hangover. This one would spread out toward the beginning of the work week though. That's how hangovers worked now. At 28, they were harder to shift, and I knew this one would be a fucker. One last parting shot before I try a life of sobriety (again), coinciding with the beginning of a New Year. 2011.

"If we are going to rebuild him, we must break him down first."

I go into this period of sobriety, horrible hung over but with an unflinching resoluteness that I no longer need the booze to enjoy myself. That's normally how these things work out though isn't it? All fire and brimstone in the beginning, but after a few days, you revert back into the comfortable mould created for yourself over a lifetime of passivity..

Which brings me to this blog. An unashamed, blow by blow, warts and all account of a 20 somethings battle to beat the booze. I'm no different to most other drinkers out there. The odd drink or two during the week, and bit of a binge drinker at weekends.

I've used it as a crutch ever since my first drop of San Miguel in Malaga at 16. What a revelation! Interactions flowed easier, and the discomfort of meeting strangers lessened drink after drink. This pattern continued throughout my life, so that at any given social function, in the vicinity of people I didn't know, I made a beeline for the bar, to lubricate the social wheels.

Intellectually I know that a reliance on alcohol is seriously limiting my ability to meet others (especially those of the opposite sex), but I've never been fully aware of my habits with drink until now. So ingrained in our Irish culture, refusing a drink is almost considered sacrilegious. Rare sober nights out in the past have been eye-opening. Although I've lacked the courage to approach new people, seeking refuge ‘inside my head’ for the most part, I have had some encouraging experiences. However, those have been isolated incidents; my work undone, swallowed up by consequent heavy binges.

So as I venture out into the pubs and clubs of Dublin in 2011, notebook in hand, I do so with some trepidation but excited that this could be my healthiest and happiest year yet. I'll drink to that!...oh right! The sober thing!