Spring Broke: Why I Can’t Drink

It has been awhile hasn’t it, dear reader? Today I am going to discuss something that I have only intimated at with other posts and discussion in my regular life.

Why I can’t get drunk is something that I am not particularly ashamed of, but never openly share because part of me sees it as a social weakness. I have been around the inebriated, the intoxicated, the buzzed, and the sloshed countless times. I did not have my first drink until well after my 21st birthday. My intake is slow and metered. I drink water with every alcoholic drink I have. I over prepare to prevent anything from altering my state of being.

I am part of a family where alcohol is a major issue. I have relatives who have drank themselves to death, become abusive alcoholics, borderline abusive alcoholics, and dry alcoholics. The genetic lottery points in every direction that once I throw myself into the watery depths of drunkenness, I could very well be there for the rest of my life.

My mental state now is one of dangerous clarity so I can make this statement without hesitation even though, when I read back on it in a moment of crisis, I will disagree with it: I am worth more than any drink on this damn planet. I am too important and unique to allow any kind of alcohol to put me at risk.

I have avoided certain parties and Spring Break trips because I knew that, at one point or another, I would be the only sober one in a group of friends. I do not say this out of animosity towards them, they were never told the two reasons I refuse to get drunk.

Number one being the slippery slope of the genetic lottery that is addiction. Number two being a simpler reason, but still more concrete than the first.

It is known to many that I suffer from Bipolar Disorder, Severe Anxiety, and Major Depression. I have to take medicine daily to make sure the chemicals in my brain are in a semi-controlled state. If I drink too much, all of that goes out the window. I have a very high likelihood of being a dangerous drunk to others or too myself. In my experience there are four types of drunk. There are the people who get violent, there are the people who get sad, there are the people who get funny, and there are the people who get stupid. They are not mutually exclusive to one another.

I have been bullied, chided, and made fun of for not choosing to drink. I have been pressured to drink by people who just want to see Jeffrey shit faced. I have even been pressured to drink by people who just want to see me falter, as if I live such a perfect life anyway.

These are the choices I make, not only for your safety, but for mine.

This is not meant to be a derision on those who choose to drink. This is meant as a general explanation why I choose not to.

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