While dancing with my friends in a club, I saw a girl sitting all alone.
In my drunken revelry, I tried to get her to join us and waved her over. She yelled at me to leave her alone, so I pushed her away.
Things escalated when she threw her drink at me, causing everyone in the club to stare at us. Then security came and threw us both out.
At the time, it felt hilarious and like a badge of honor for my extreme state of drunkenness.
Looking back, I am deeply ashamed and realize how unacceptable my behavior was that night. What’s worse is that this incident was just one of many drunken antics that I would proudly tell my friends about.
In my early 20s, drinking was a way to escape from my usual “boring” self and bring out a completely different side of myself.
I didn’t know how to consume alcohol without passing out and would drink to feel like I fit in with British culture.
After several incidents like these, I finally decided to go teetotal, where I no longer rely on alcohol for confidence. It was one of the most liberating experiences of my life, where I learned to find true confidence from within.
Growing up as a Muslim, I always abstained from drinking alcohol and saw it as deeply taboo – I was brought up to believe that alcohol was dangerous and that people who drank were tempted to commit sinful acts. They were led away by the temptations of the devil from worshiping God.
However, as an adult, it felt impossible to avoid. At university, it became a draw that I could no longer resist.
I would often crash and wake up with a headache
In an environment where drinking was openly encouraged, I felt pressured to do so to appear ‘liberal’ and ‘liberal’ for fear of being seen as ‘boring’. I would consume alcohol to find my “real confident self”, except that wasn’t who I really was.
After graduating, I moved abroad to China on an international program with other UK graduates. When I arrived at the airport to meet my cohorts, I felt shy and anxious.
My palms were sweaty and my head was spinning after the long flight. I was surrounded by a group of strangers, who would become a large part of my life in the coming months.
Hundreds of miles away from my friends and family, I desperately wanted to feel connected to my new peers. Alcohol was a way to quell those fears and project the version of myself that I wanted the world to see.
When I was sober, I was shy and reserved – but wasted, I felt free and unstoppable. The drunken me was a far cry from the awkwardness I often felt when in large groups.
As a bunch of westerners in China, we were constantly plied with cheap alcohol and free entry to clubs by club promoters. It was addicting, accepting these endless offers for cheap nights. I downed glasses of beer, wine and vodka, or sometimes all mixed together.
I was pouring drinks down my throat with such speed that I didn’t care what I was drinking or what it tasted like – I just wanted to get drunk and fast.
There were no elders to watch or admonish me as I returned home. I was surrounded by other young people doing the same thing, and I could do whatever I liked – when I liked – in a judgment-free zone.
I would often crash and wake up with a headache. I would be comfortably put to bed by my friends, who always had to carry me back home and take care of me.
Unfortunately, my drunken state would make me emotional, so I would lash out at people and lose my temper. Sometimes I picked fights with friends and made inappropriate comments. Once, I apparently accused a friend of being racist, which was deeply hurtful to her.
I would wake up the next day feeling terribly anxious and ashamed
The mornings after my all-nighters, I would wake up with horrible anxiety and spend the rest of the day feeling ashamed and embarrassed. The feelings of dread in my stomach and paranoia convinced me that everyone around me hated me.
My friends were deeply concerned about my drinking habits, which I felt confused about. Wasn’t this standard procedure on a night out? Obviously not, but I continued for the next few weeks, until it became too much.
It became exhausting for my friends to carry me home and take care of me when they threw up in Ubers and blacked out in the middle of dance floors. Drinking them wasn’t a novelty, but it was such a new and exciting experience for me.
All of a sudden I realized I had to stop when I got so drunk at a work party that a colleague had to walk me home. He was not just a partner, but one of the department managers. Obviously, I tripped and fell off the chairs.
All I remember from that night was arriving at the venue and feeling nervous because everyone was so much older than me. I drank several glasses of wine to calm my nerves, but before I knew it, I had to be taken home.
After that moment, I suddenly realized that I wasn’t drinking to have fun but to crush my emotions. It was a way to escape and become someone else. While the people around me took small sips, I sipped the glasses and dozed off. This affected my friendships as well as my professional life.
Fortunately, this realization taught me to understand that relying on alcohol was bad for who I really am. My drunken situations cost me friendships and put me in dangerous situations that were never worth it.
At that moment, I decided to quit drinking in 2018 – three years after I first started, which was a difficult step.
The first time I went to a club without alcohol, I found it boring and not happy. And I realized it was because I didn’t like clubs.
Your sober self is who you really are and it’s important to look within yourself to find joy naturally without the need for alcohol
Alcohol was a way to make the loud music and crowded venue bearable. If I needed footage to enjoy it, then it wasn’t really enjoyable.
I forced myself to ease into social situations and take things slow. I no longer pressure myself to be a certain way – I’ve learned that having fun with your friends should never feel like a performance.
When I’ve had the occasional sip of beer, wine, or spirits since quitting, I’ve realized that I hate the taste. It’s bitter and medicinal and makes my tummy hurt. Because I was sticking it all the time, I didn’t realize you were supposed to like the taste. I don’t do it.
Now I go for walks in the park, brunch meals and visit art galleries with my friends. These overall activities have enabled me to forge deeper relationships with my friends. Instead of laughing about our last drunken night, our conversations go below the surface and we talk about our hobbies, interests and goals.
My advice to others who feel pressured to drink is to consider what really makes them feel satisfied in the long term, despite the short-term pleasure you get from alcohol. The “loose” and “uninhibited” feelings of being drunk can be addictive, but they wear off and you wake up the next morning.
Your sober self is who you really are and it’s important to look within yourself to find joy naturally without the need for alcohol. It’s hard at first, but it’s worth it.
More: Lifestyle
I’ve been crazy for four years now. Recently, I visited a friend in the country, where we went to see a local sculpture park and had a picnic. When I got home my friend texted to say she felt so calm and centered around me that day, just what she needed after a stressful time at work. I felt exactly the same and that is the feeling I look for in my friendships. That feeling of connection and fulfillment I get with my friends is better than any drunken night out. And it’s a constant feeling that grounds me in reality with who I really am. Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected] Share your views in the comments below. MORE: Yelling at me for drinking non-alcoholic beer isn’t just ‘boy talk’ MORE: Wetherspoons superfan is on a mission to visit every pub despite being alive MORE: Having an alcoholic parent ruined my relationship with drinking
