Alcohol, Growing Up, and Trying To Do Better

Alcohol is, amongst many other things, an escape. It’s an escape I have sought in the past and one that hasn’t served me very well.

To be clear, it is not difficult for me to go weeks without a drink.

I do not need alcohol to get through the day.

I do not crave it on Wednesday mornings or even on Saturday nights.

And for a long time, these facts hid the reality that my relationship with alcohol was problematic. That I sometimes drank to excess on the weekends. That I sometimes turned to alcohol when I didn’t want to face reality or when I didn’t want to feel something. That I drank to release the pressure that builds up when you have trouble tolerating your own existence.

But during the past few months, amidst some deep self-introspection, I have identified drinking as a problematic pattern of behavior in my life. I have identified it as a form of acting out that combines with other factors to put me in a difficult place.

Perhaps most importantly, I’ve realized that the things I’m running away from when I drink are always waiting for me when I wake up the next morning.

Becoming more aware of these things has helped me understand that depression, anxiety, and my general well-being are all negatively effected when I drink. That alcohol might serve as a band-aid for these issues in the short term, but it always makes things worse in the long term.

I went to the 12th annual Brooklyn Hip Hop Festival this past weekend. It’s ironic that the concert was situated under the Brooklyn Bridge because, as a teenager many years ago, that’s the first place I ever had a drink.

In addition to many others, I saw Talib Kweli, Fabolous, and Nas perform. It was everything the 15-year old hip-hop fan inside of me (the same kid who had his first sips of alcohol under the Brooklyn Bridge) wanted. Watching these artists perform was the perfect Saturday afternoon, but there was still something missing.

I wanted a drink.

And what made these urges even more difficult to ignore was the fact that everywhere I turned there were people tipping back their plastic cups who looked like they were having the time of their lives.

Of course, I could’ve joined in and drank alongside these people, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Because I know that I need to be more careful when it comes to alcohol. I know I need to take better care of myself.

And on Saturday, I knew that drinking wasn’t a smart choice.

So I decided to drink water instead of beer as I cheered along with everyone else in the crowd.

I made the responsible decision, but I’m not going to tell you that I had a better time because I wasn’t drinking. And honestly, being responsible and taking care of myself was even less fun than it sounds.

But I still enjoyed the concert.

When Lil’ Fame of M.O.P. (one of the many surprise guests they had at the concert) appeared on stage to perform “Ante Up” I still lost my mind. When Talib Kweli did “Get By” I still sang along with conviction. When Nas was on stage with the Soul Rebel Brass Band performing some of the most iconic songs in the history of hip-hop I still found myself in awe.

But I wasn’t riding that familiar wave of carefree feelings that manifest after a few drinks.

Looking back on the concert, I’m happy I didn’t drink. But in the moment, I didn’t feel very good about my decision. In the moment, it felt like I was being an adult in the most boring, most cliched “this is what growing up is all about,” way possible.

And I think that’s the problem for those of us who struggle with things of this nature. The moment is incredibly difficult to remove ourselves from so we can see the bigger picture. So we can see what our actions mean and what we’re actually risking when we want to engage in behaviors that are easy or feel good right now but are usually problematic and painful later on.

Was it less fun drinking water instead of alcohol? You’re goddamn right it was less fun.

But it was also necessary. It was also something that kept me in a much better place, both physically and mentally.

I’m not quitting drinking for good, but my goal to take better care of myself means that things are different now.

It means getting to the bar and having a few waters before I have my first drink (if I’ve decided to drink at all). It means declining drink offers from well-meaning friends who are going to the bar and trying to save me a trip. It means being vigilant about how many drinks I’ve had and making sure I don’t cross that line. It means being that guy who turns down free shots from a friendly bartender.

But this isn’t about depriving myself of something for no reason.

This is about self-care. This is about not putting myself in a potentially bad or dangerous situation in exchange for a few hours of fun.

And at the Brooklyn Hip Hop Festival this past weekend, I didn’t have as much fun as I could’ve had. But my perspective has shifted. I’m just trying to do a little better every day. And if doing a little better every day means that I didn’t have as much fun as I could’ve this past weekend, I’m okay with that.