That’s it … I am going sober! The past decade has been one big party.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
I have done it all and then some. But it’s just not working out anymore.
The mood swings, the fat gut, anxiety, energy levels, untidy room, the constant stuff-ups at work and the ‘couldn’t be bothered’ attitude, because I am too busy nursing a hangover.
It’s come to my attention that I don’t drink like normal people.
I can’t just have a few, I drink until I pass out and chain smoke through the journey – side note I hate smoking, it’s disgusting and it kills you – but when I’m intoxicated, I don’t have the self-control not to.
Let me paint the picture for you; it’s 5am on Sunday morning, the party is well and truly over, but there I am, alone, pouring another drink telling myself it will be the last one (it’s never the last one).
It’s cold, dark and I am playing music off my iPhone as I pour drink after drink until I can’t tell which way is up. Wake up to yourself, bro! This isn’t good.
RELATED:
I know what you’re thinking, “Seamus just have a few… only have two, or stop after six… drink in moderation”. Pfft, yeah right.
You along with five GPs, my family, friends and three girlfriends have already beaten you to it.
But I can’t seem to master it! I just can’t stop!
Two weeks ago I went to see a psychologist to help with my anxiety.
Turns out I have obsessive-compulsive tendencies and an addictive personality that I’ve subconsciously been self-medicating for years – surprise, surprise.
Out of curiosity, I began to climb the family tree to see if it’s hereditary.
Low and behold, my grandfather was an abusive alcoholic. He’d spend his whole pay cheque at the pub shouting friends while my dad, uncle and nana were going hungry at home.
This guy was so bad that my father doesn’t even call him dad; he only refers to him by his first name.
Thank God the apple fell far from the tree.
If you’re Australian, you know that drinking is a part of our “culture”. Every weekend there’s an excuse to drink, and if there isn’t … we make one.
- Seamus Evans
All my old boy does is fall asleep in front of some boring, black and white SBS documentary after he’s had a couple of frothies.
If you’re Australian, you know that drinking is a part of our “culture”.
It’s considered normal to have catch ups at the pub after work, pre-drinks before pre-drinks, roadies in the cab, beers with the boys and wine with the gals.
Every weekend there’s an excuse to drink, and if there isn’t … we make one. So this puts me in a sticky situation because I don’t want to drink anymore.
So how am I going to fit in and have a ‘normal’ social life?
Being in my late twenties, I now have genuine reasons to celebrate: weddings, engagements, 30th birthdays, baby showers; these are real-life milestone occasions.
Most of the celebrations coming up are for my best mates who I have been through thick and thin with.
They’ve also played major roles in my drinking career.
Just last month I had a spontaneous boozy lunch with a few mates in Melbourne, and now all of a sudden I’m going to be designated driver at one of their engagements, all because I haven’t got my life together? Or what about my childhood friend who’s getting married in June? I am a groomsmen for goodness sake. “Sorry mate, I won’t toast to your wedding because if I have one, I will single handedly finish the open bar and vomit on your new wife’s wedding dress” (by the way that’s actually happened).
They’ll be offended and I will look like a jerk. Oh well, they’ll have to get over it, because if I don’t sort my life out now, the white-picket-fence life seems very unrealistic for me. Finally, at 27 years old I’ve worked out that I’m an all or nothing kind of guy … and I can’t seem to ‘fit in’ with my bingeing habits – so if I’m not happy with all … then why not try nothing?