Dandee is a Musician, Business Owner, Scooterist.

I really love this description/analysis of ones relationship with booze.  Visit the link to read more of this persons stuff.

I am not an alcoholic. I come from a line of them so long that my DNA is heavily pickled, but I am not an alcoholic. I periodically abuse alcohol, but am capable of drinking it normally without fear of going on a bender. I can go for months or years without it. But booze is my Siren. It calls to me when I am at my weakest and most vulnerable, singing a song that I can’t resist.

I don’t crave it when I’m sad or happy or depressed. All those things feel like enough all by themselves. I drink when I am hypomanic. Alcohol slows down my thoughts, calms my racing pulse, and quells my ever-present sense that something isn’t right.

Falling into a glass feels like baptism — I come up from a Long Island iced tea and am born anew. All the scurrying thoughts in my head are slowed by the sticky sweet concoction and there is, finally, some blessed silence. It is only then that I can fully focus on what is directly in front of me without analyzing it, second guessing it. 

I rarely do things I regret while I am drunk. I believe the drink takes whatever is already in you and amplifies it. I’m okay with who I am. I like who I am. Sure, sometimes I say something stupid, but I am not malicious or unkind. I don’t get into drunken brawls or (usually) sob endlessly. Me being drunk is remarkably like me being sober, only more intense: I talk a lot, gesticulate wildly, come up with some harebrained scheme, then decide I’m tired and don’t want to talk to people anymore. 

The problem with alcohol is that when I want it the most is when I should have it the least. Alcohol and I are friends with benefits — showing up at it’s doorstep occasionally with the intention of having a good time is okay. Wanting more from it, asking it to stay in with me on a Friday night, or trying to make long term plans with it is a really crappy idea.