My Pain in a Dirty Glass

This is a serious post.

I'm writing the first draft of this blog post at a seminar about the incidence of HIV in the over 50 year old population; something I need to attend for my job. Since many of my clients fall into this category, I should be paying attention. But I'm not, because I'm thinking about my friend.

Today, my friend began to take the long and no-doubt difficult road to sobriety. Although it goes without saying that I wish him the best and will endeavor to help in any way I can, his decision has made me consider my own appetite for drink in a new, and somewhat harsh, light.

Way back in April, I did a post over at the WoW that garnered some attention. It was entitled The Downhill Slide, and it was about my initial (and not altogether genuine) concern over my then new-found love of gin martinis. You can read it if you want; it's not long. Despite the fact that I was joking, it received somewhat serious feedback from my friends. I promised a follow-up post, but I never delivered. I guess this is it.

Although The Angry Piper is often portrayed as a pathetic, drunken Irishman, the reality is quite the opposite. I am rarely drunk. Since The Angry Piper is a fictional character, and is, in truth, only an exaggerated composite of some of my best and worst qualities, I don't mind (and often encourage) this characterization. You know...for laughs. Ha ha.

However, I do like to drink, and lately I have been drinking more than ever before; in quantity, quality and frequency. Recent and not-so-recent events have made this a cause of concern for me. Like my friend, alcoholism runs in my family. Neither of my parents drank, and we never had alcohol in our house. But both my grandfathers were raging alcoholics. Well, one was literally "raging", the other was just severely addicted.

Allow me to tell you about my personality when I drink: it is largely the same as my regular personality. I don't get loud or obnoxious. I don't get mean. Although I have drank many times when I felt sad, drinking has never made me feel sad. Most people (except for those who know me extremely well) can't even tell I've been drinking, unless they've been drinking with me. The only thing I've been told is that I get quiet, and apparently very funny when I'm drunk; even funnier than the clever quipper I usually am. I believe this is true because more than one person has related these qualities to me. (Then again, more than one person has told me I resemble Nicolas Cage. Perhaps they are the ones who drink too much.)

This past weekend, I attended the New Hampshire Highland Games at Loon Mountain (expect a blogpost very soon), a yearly event I look forward to. It is more or less a dry event, as they frown on drunken assholes ruining family fun over at Loon. Therefore, I did very little drinking at the games. New Hampshire, however,is renowned for its cheap liquor, especially at the gigantic State-run liquor stores about 20 miles over the Massachusetts border. So many people from Massachusetts travel to these stores that NH got wise and installed toll booths right before their exit; now you pay $1.50 round-trip in addition to whatever you buy. Most people consider it money well spent.

Now, several concerns make me want to draw rein here and halt my gallop towards alcohol dependence. The first, of course, is what's happening with my friend. More on that later.

Concern #2: I didn't spend much money beyond the admission fee at the games. But boy, was I like a kid in a candy store at the NH packie. Among other things, I spent $30 on a bottle of very expensive gin (Hendrick's) that would have probably cost upwards of $40 elsewhere.

Concern #3: I really like gin. A lot. I used to be a strictly (top-shelf) beer guy, with a budding appreciation for wine, especially with good food. Now, it worries me that I can discern the quality of gin solely by taste, when not long ago the taste of something so alcoholic would have had me sputtering and gagging. (Incidentally, Hendrick's is quite good.)

Concern #4: I recently saw someone so inebriated that he could not speak clearly, nor understand or follow a conversation. This friend-of-a-friend was a stellar eye-opener for me; a "there but for the grace of God go I" kind of example. I hope he arrives at the same place my friend is, and soon.

Here's what I have going for me:

#1 I don't drink every day.

#2 I rarely drink to debilitating excess. I know my limits, and I stick to them. When I feel a buzz, I have one more drink and stop. I haven't been physically sick from drinking since I was in high school.

#3 I never drink and drive.

#4 I honestly feel that I drink because I want to, not because I need to.

In the past year, my personal life (not my drinking-not yet, anyway) has spiraled slowly out of control. The other day I had a reunion with someone I still-and will always-care deeply about, a difficult reunion that can only be called "bittersweet." Did I drink afterwards? You bet. But the next time I see this person-and there will be a next time-I don't intend to drink afterwards at all.

Despite these concerns, I am not yet ready to completely give up alcohol, nor do I think I need to, yet. What I do need is to stop drinking as often as I do. Well, that, and these things:

#1 I need to get back on my diet. In early August I went on vacation, and since then I've gained back 10 of the 18 pounds I'd lost. This means no beer.

#2 I need to get physically active again. I'm hoping my friend, and possibly his brother (also a great friend), will join me in this. I want to go back to my aikido training, as it was an enormously positive experience in my life.

#3 I need to not replace my gin bottle when it's empty; at least not right away, and save my drinking for special meals and occasions.

#4 At the end of the week, I need to have more alcohol-free days than days I indulged in alcohol.

#5 I need, in general, to get my shit together.

Now, as for my friend who has taken this very difficult and courageous step towards sobriety:

I did not know, until recently, that you were concerned about your drinking. I did not know that you had tried previously to quit, and were unsuccessful. I did not know about the effect it was having on your personal life.

For a while there, we fell out of touch. And although we never stopped being friends, there's a lot that happened to both of us in those years that we each don't know. I regret that.

We've known each other for 20 years, give or take a few. You knew me at my most ridiculous, and the good times we've had with the other two musketeers are legendary. I think we both know we don't need to drink to hang out together.

So let's not.