The Setup
So, there I was. Trying to, you know, stand up and be counted, be part of the crowd. It was one of those evenings where everyone seemed to be having a blast, and I felt like I needed to catch up. Or maybe I was just trying to shake off a bad week. Yeah, probably that. You know how it is, you tell yourself, “Just one or two, loosen up a bit.” Famous last words, right?
The First “Drank”
And so, I drank. Started off slow, or so I thought. A beer here, a whatever-they-were-serving there. The conversation started flowing, or maybe it was just the booze making everyone seem more interesting. Me included, probably. I felt myself getting lighter, the worries of the week kind of fading into the background. That’s the trick, isn’t it? It feels good, for a while.
The Inevitable “Pass Out”
Next thing I knew, well, I didn’t know much at all. Apparently, I did more than just stand up; I sort of… tilted. And then, apparently, I horizontalized. Yep, pass out. Not my proudest moment. Woke up, or rather, was sort of jolted awake, hours later. Different place, same clothes, pounding headache. The classic signs. The details are fuzzy, and honestly, I didn’t ask too many questions. Sometimes it’s better not to know the full extent of your own foolishness.
And Then… “Drank” Again
And what’s the first brilliant idea that pops into your head when you feel like death warmed up? For some genius reason, back then, mine was often… you guessed it. Drank. Not a lot, mind you. Just that “hair of the dog” nonsense. “It’ll make you feel better,” the little voice says. Or maybe it was just, “I feel awful, might as well lean into it.” So, yeah, I had something. Not a solution, more like pressing the snooze button on the hangover and the regret.
What Came of It
Looking back, that whole “stand up drank pass out drank” cycle, it wasn’t a one-off, not really, though that particular night was a sharp reminder. It was a pattern, a stupid loop I got caught in for a while. You think you’re having fun, or escaping, but you’re just digging a hole. It took a few more of those hazy mornings and lost evenings to really see it. It’s not about the drink itself, it’s about why you’re reaching for it, and what happens when you overdo it. Took me a while to get my act together after a phase like that. You learn, eventually. Or at least, I hope I did. You realize that “standing up” properly doesn’t involve falling down quite so spectacularly. It’s a process, I guess. Still figuring parts of it out, but definitely not repeating that particular sequence anymore. That much, I’m sure of.
