I love social drinking, and in my twenties, it’s not exactly a rare occurrence. I enjoy going to the pub with friends on a Friday evening; the warm, vibrant atmosphere, and the excitement for what the evening might hold. I love cracking open a bottle of wine with my partner, and chatting all evening. I love making cocktails with friends, and the anticipation of catching up over a drink.
Sometimes, I’ve wondered whether I’ve had a problem with alcohol, because of the hangovers or the nights where I drink more than expected. I wonder whether the pubs are good for me, and when ‘social drinking’ becomes an excuse.
I’m yet to conclude I have a problem with alcohol, I’m just someone that enjoys a drink. And while that might sound synonymous with trying to make excuses for a drinking problem, a friend said to me this summer, ‘I think you’d know in your heart, and in your gut, if it ever teeters into addiction.’ (We were talking about people who had gone to our schools who had actually descended down this route, and our concern for them). But what she said stuck with me. I think I would know if the social drinking ever got out of hand. And it hasn’t. I usually only drink on the weekend, I can look after myself, and I enjoy stints of sobriety.
