The Demon Drink

By Rhian Gibson

Drink is evil. It is the devil himself and I refuse to partake in his sadistic customs. Until the girls want another night out. Who’s free Saturday night?

This whole “alcohol is a social lubricant meant to bring people together” rubbish is as sickening as the smell of last night’s cheesy noodles. The only way it brings people together is when you’re holding your friends hair up so her stomach has room for one more pint; when you wake up next to someone with complete abandonment of respect and dignity for yourself because he was “so cute” with your beer goggles on, and when you get a bit too confrontational with the bouncer because he let in a sixteen-year-old but you had to produce your ID.

Oh drink, why do you create such monsters out of such good people? Is it your effect on our brain’s neurotransmitters? Or is it because we all have the potential to go a bit mental and alcohol gives us a gentle push in the right direction? Maybe it’s because the universe actually hates us and this invention of ‘drinking until we feel better’ has completely warped our views on what alcohol is actually there for- to make fools of ourselves.

Sometimes we go a bit too far; we black out and have no control over what we say or do and our entire existence is put into jeopardy. We make rash decisions because “beer told me to do it”, we think we’re tougher than we really are and running across an icy road in heels seems like a brilliant idea at the time. Ouch to my ankle and ouch to my ego.

We drink our dad’s hidden beer supply when we’re sixteen, we get older people to buy it for us and we get a little bit too tipsy on our first glass of wine at Christmas. We see the older generation consume alcohol and completely change personalities, we see them get obnoxiously violent and laugh at a joke that no one told. But we want in. We want to drink to feel like a grown up, to forget that our lives our crumbling around us, we drink for the hell of it and because we’re trying to give into society’s social norms that drink is ok. Drugs are bad but alcohol is ok. It’s legal.

According to “Alcohol is responsible for 88 deaths every month in Ireland” yet it’s completely legal and accessible. It’s a killer who has avoided justice for too long because we all love a good night out. We forget about the effects that alcohol has on our internal organs, psychology and on those we love. We continue to throw back shot after shot and guzzle back the pints because it’s not against the law.

But maybe it isn’t all peer pressure and disobedience. It helps us celebrate a good achievement because nothing says well done quite like a free shot of tequila, it gives us a bit of ‘Dutch courage’ when we need it the most and it helps us forget the reason our hearts are breaking (if only for one night) But a killer can be sneaky; a manipulative bitch.

If only there was a way that a girl in her twenties could enjoy a night out and wake up completely hung-over free, in her bed (alone) with all of her belongings still in her handbag. I once heard a rumour that this is attainable through the ancient practice of “drinking water in between drinks” maybe it’s Greek? I’ve also been told by an ex of mine that you can still have a good time if you “slow down and pace yourself” but it was hard to hear him with my head in the toilet.


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