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So, what was formerly a solid contempt became a peculiar curiosity, a faint lust. My first party with alcohol saw me vomit five times, which, at the time, I viewed as a successfully good night. I was with people whom I had never met and was eager to get to know, a key ingredient for the alchemy in creating the allure of alcohol. Consequently, I drank anything that was offered to me, mixing lager with spirits and wines. I fumbled down the stairs, fumbled into the toilet, fumbled into people. I was a mess, really. But I was a mess that attracted attention, attracted laughs, attracted good conversation with strangers. You realise pretty soon that getting yourself in such a state is not seen as embarrassing - especially in the infant stages of drinking alcohol – but something revered, celebrated; the pinnacle of achievement being blackout.

From then on, with each subsequent party, and there were many, I would succumb to this allure of getting as drunk as possible. I was able to use my brother’s old passport to buy it for myself. This freedom also allowed me to determine what state I was going to be in that night, which, invariably, would be ‘fucked’. It got to the perverse stage where if I hadn’t drunk two bottles of wine I would feel that my night was going to be drab and unfulfilling. I must point out, however, that I was not exclusively an anomaly in these parties, but not everyone was up for getting out of their face. There were those, often a majority, who intended to have just enough to enjoy themselves. I felt no external pressure, no one set a benchmark of drunkenness for me to achieve – it was all internal.

At this point, absolute drunkenness, in my mind (which was in no way a true reflection of the reality of the situation), was a necessity for a party. It helped me become more sociable, talkative, flirtatious and endearing. Any negatives that it produced – being rude, unthoughtful, spiteful and obnoxious – I could merely dismiss as strange drunken absurdities: that isn’t what I am actually like, I would think. Yet all those good things, I determined, were ‘actually me’. In so doing, I had hidden my vices under the veil of drunkenness and saw only the positive side to drinking. This is something I believe you must be aware of when - or, more accurately, if - you start drinking heavily. You must view your drunken self holistically, because this is what everyone else sees. Your drunken charm can be overshadowed by momentary stupidity or viciousness. The advantage, however, is that ‘I was drunk’ can easily become such a void to store these little misdemeanours. Do not be fooled into thinking that it absolves you of blame, however. Its absolution is illusory. ‘I was drunk’ is not repentance, it is merely an exhibition of cowardice. It shows that you are unable to accept responsibility for what you have done. 

Image credits: pinterest.com