will soon be my title if I continue to engage in drinking the way I do. I’m currently reading Drinking: A Love Story by Caroline Knapp for my Use and Effects of Drugs class. It’s actually pretty scary. The way she describes her love for alcohol, describes mine to a certain extent. My favorite quote so far is Drinking gave me a way to rewrite such pieces of history, a way to address whatever lingering confusion I had about the person I’d been brought up to be. Again, simple math: I grew up in a confusing home and the drink made the confusion go away; it provided the easiest way out, an escape from my eternal life. I can relate to that. It melts down the pieces of us that hurt or feel distress; it makes room for some other self to emerge, a version that’s new and improved and decidedly less conflicted. I can relate to that too.
She describes how fun drinking started out to be, how it gave her all the feelings she yearned for. But then all the fun ended, and she needed alcohol to just maintain her good moods. I’m scared of getting to that point.