Getting Drunk for 16 Years Stunted My Emotional Growth
21 years later, I think I’ve finally caught up
I worked at my first job at McDonald’s when I was 15, a quarter of a mile away from my house. My friend Frank was a few years older and my manager.
One day, I was home alone after school on my day off. On a whim, I rifled through my parents’ liquor stash and chose to try cooking sherry, of all things.
Sherry isn’t meant to be gulped and it tasted awful, but I liked how it felt going down. Its sweet yet burning sensation called me back for a few more gulps after the alcohol warmed my insides and gave me a little buzz.
It was my first time experiencing what alcohol offered. I felt like I’d found my missing puzzle pieces in that bottle. It didn’t matter how it tasted. The effect it produced took precedence over flavor. Most alcoholics will tell you their preference is “more.” That was my story from the beginning.
I may have also tried the apricot schnapps reserved for special occasion margaritas or a bit of the vodka my dad used for his periodic vodka tonics. My parents can take a drink or leave it, which is why I was able to get away with stealing some back then. I don’t think they hear it talking to them like I do.
