Escape from Binge Britain

Hello there. Welcome to my blog! Firstly, a bit about myself…I’m 27, female, live in London and have an emotional addiction to alcohol. Not the ‘Hello, my name is (insert name) and I’m an alcoholic kind’…it’s just that when the Republic of Binge Britain was declared whereas most people politely partook in the Doubles for a Quid every weekend at uni, then got sick of chucking their guts up every Saturday morning and decided when they reached 23 they were just too old for that kind of thing, settled down with a nice boy/girl and generally became rather boring, I didn’t. I carried on, holding up the spirit of the Republic, getting absolutely shitfaced every weekend and occasionally on work nights as well, and getting myself into all sorts of hilarious/ tragic/ dangerous situations in the process.  We’re talking drinking so much JD I was found by the police asleep in a random person’s garden, having a Top 20 Drinking Establishments I’ve Been Thrown Out of Chart, getting so drunk at a Speed Dating night not one guy ‘ticked me’…yeah, in fact dating and guys is a whole topic of it’s own which perhaps I’ll delve into another time.

Basically, most people have a switch - after a bottle of wine and a couple of vodkas it flicks on a light in their head which says something like “don’t have another drink or you’ll look like a twat” or “don’t have another drink or you’ll be sick” and after a few episodes of ignoring the light they come to realise that it is, in fact, the oracle of all knowledge and it’s predictions are always scarily accurate.  I’m missing the switch. I can drink and drink and drink til I pass out without throwing up, and once I’ve had a few drinks, I just want more, nothing tells me I’m going to look like a twat. 

I used to be depressed – I used to drink because I was sad and didn’t like myself. The Drunken Me was great fun to be around, sexy and funny…until she ended up in a puddle of tears at the end of the night or tried to start a fight in the burger van queue.  I’m not depressed anymore – the lobotomy did wonders – and so now I get drunk because I like it, although Drunken Me still sometimes tries to cause fights in burger van queues. There is hardly any situation I can’t think which would be much improved if everyone was drunk. I envy the drunken people I see on the Tube when I’m sober; I love the pure hedonism of getting absolutely shit-faced.

But recently, I’ve started to notice that I’m always more drunk than any of my friends.  I’ve started to think about all the guys on this planet who think I’m either an emotional wreck/ a psychopath/ a slut because they met me when I was drunk, and I’ve started to worry about my liver.

But how do you stop? Today I plucked up the courage to call the Down Your Drink helpline…I don’t know what I was expecting them to say. But anyway, I summarised what I’ve basically just said above into something like “I drink too much and it’s affecting my social life” and the Scottish guy at the other end provided two disagreeable options 1) drink soft drinks in between alcoholic ones 2) hang out in cafes not bars/ clubs and stop drinking altogether.  Now firstly, if my switch was working, I could do option 1, but as it is, once I start drinking any notions of pacing oneself fly out the window. Option 2 is a non-starter. I mean, what do I do? Dump all my friends and start hanging out with people who go to garden centres? And where am I going to find a boyfriend if not in a bar or club? I’m sorry, but people, from what I have observed, don’t pull each other in CAFES.

So, I’m going to have to think of something myself.  Planning and executing my own Escape from Binge Britain, and with any luck finding love on the way.  Maybe there are other hostages out there too…I’ve love to find out.