SMASHED

No, I'm not smashed at the moment. I have been before, many times, that's certain.

I just finished reading the book, Smashed: Story of a Drunken Girlhood, by Koren Zailckas.

This book reminds me so much of myself, it isn't funny. Really, it isn't.

Not the part about her having her stomach pumped, or drinking to the point where her stomach is basically starting to bleed...luckily it never got to that for me. But the part where she and her parents and friends pass it off as just a stage, just part of growing older. That after college it will just trickle off and suddenly the binge drinking stage will just float off into oblivion. In my case, it definitely didn't happen that way. The drinking got worse before it got better.

College was just a stepping stone for me when it came to drinking. I would drink more often then, but it was after college that I started drinking in heavier amounts.

In this book, the author talks about the fact that she doesn't see herself as an alcoholic. I read a review for the book before I had started reading it....this part of the review really struck a nerve:

"The most interesting revelation in the book is that Zailckas is not actually an alcoholic, but a victim of alcohol abuse. When she reaches out to a counselor on the internet she discovers that she has none of the genetic characteristics that describe alcoholism. Zailckas' problem is that excess was encouraged to her in a society that more and more sees teen drinking as a rite of passage instead of the problem it is. Her depression and insecurity made her an easy target to lose control, and no one was able to see her problem for what it was. 'Smashed' exposes a new social problem that has not been acknowledged in the media so far, and Zailckas is to be commended for bringing it out for discussion."

-Gregory Baird

How more right can the both of them be? I completely fell into that category. I didn't need alcohol every day to survive and make it from one day to the next, but I was easy prey when it came to abusing it for social situations...when I was insecure, scared, or sad. I've been there....for those "moments you'll never remember with the friends you'll never forget."

An excerpt from the book:

“One night, after power hour with Hannah, my dormant resentment bursts and impels a tsunami. I am staggering down the hallway to my room, dragging my hands along the walls on either side of me, when Wendi cuts me off in the doorway, hands on her hips, carping about a phone message that I wrote on a Post-it and forgot to stick to her mirror. Under any other circumstances, I would bow my head and make an apology. But on this night, I feel as shimmering and fluid as a jellyfish drifting on a wave. The words in my head are rhythmic and pulsating, and there is nothing to stop me from saying them. I tell Wendi to leave me alone because I can't handle her bullshit.

It only gets easier from there. From there, I will come home more nights, feeling as lucent as the vodka I drank, half-hoping Wendi will start a fight with me. All week, I will save up all my rage for her. I'll stockpile it like ammo, so it will be there on the weekend, when I am drunk enough—and therefore brave enough—to retaliate. The night she makes a reference to my dirty-clothes pile, I'll throw the telephone against the wall, splitting it open to reveal a tangle of rainbow-colored wires. The night she takes me on over a cable bill, I'll slam the door in her face so hard that the force of it blows her hair back. One night, I'll come home and rip her Mariah Carey calendar off the bulletin board for no reason other than I've decided that somebody needs to do it.”

-Koren Zailckas

I drank for the first time when I was about 15 years old. It started at horse shows. We would overnight at the fairgrounds and sneak beers with older teenagers that had gotten them from friends that were of legal age to purchase them. Later, we would sneak Jim Beam and Jack Daniels from my horse trainer's liquor cabinet in the horse trailer's living quarters. It seemed innocent enough...then the weekends that followed during high school became parties in corn fields, and country cruising with the boys, cooler in the back with a case full of beer. Those were the good 'ole days, when it was just considered innocent experimenting. The beginning of what most people call a rite of passage. And that's exactly what it is....a beginning. It only continues at a higher rate as you go on through college...making new friends, testing new relationships...hell, testing your limits, period. That's exactly what I did.

It's taken a few years after college, and some major mistakes along the way, but I was able to pull myself out of the hole I had created with my own binge drinking. I'm not proud of it, but it's the truth. I used to be a partier...looking back there isn't a photo album from the past 8 years that doesn't have tons of photos of everyone drinking in them. I do still drink, but it's very occasional now, and not nearly as much when it comes to the amount of alcohol consumed. However, I'm still guilty of binge-drinking for special occasions. Why? In the end, I always think it will come back to my insecurities (see my eye contact blog from yesterday), so the only thing I can do is build myself up...be more confident with who I am now, not the blurred figment of the girl I once knew.

I share this with you, specifically the ladies out there, so that you know you're not alone. Read this book...it's very insightful, and helps alot with reflecting on some areas where you might have gone wrong in the past. If nothing else, it offers hope that you can pull yourself out of your own hole, and be a stronger person on the other side.

Song of the day: "All Jacked Up" by Gretchen Wilson (enough said)