I have almost zero tolerance for alcohol. I can enjoy a single margarita or a nice glass of read wine but beyond that I literally turn into a pumpkin, a smashed one at that. My husband laughingly calls me a cheap drunk but he knows that I can only deal with one nice beverage that I sip for hours and I will be fine. The few times that I have gone past that limit have not gone well. In fact there was one occasion in New Orleans when i took chances on imbibing an entire hurricane within less than an hour. Things got quite out of hand. I got so dizzy that I had to return to my hotel room where I proceeded to fall into to a fit of laughter that I could not control. It may have been the jumping up and down on the bed that started my gigging. Eventually I just felt very sleepy and dozed until morning, vowing to never again reach such a silly state of mind.
We live in a society that is filled with drinking as a kind of social obligation. it’s difficult to be with a group that is tossing back the cocktails and feel the pressure to be part of the party. I’m not against drinking. I simply know that it does not work for me. I also know that it does not work for many people for one reason or another. Some have religious beliefs that tell them not to drink at all. Some are diabetics who have learned how horrific their reaction to alcohol can be. Others are alcoholics who cannot even begin drinking lest they fall back into old habits that they are trying to abandon.
Sadly there are people who seem to be clueless about just accepting people where they are on the drinking spectrum. Those types like to poke fun at me and pressure me into taking chances that I know will not work out well. They somehow feel that drinking is not fun unless everyone is doing it at the same level as they are. It’s how young people all too often get themselves into situations that they cannot handle. The peer pressure to drink along with others becomes too much for them and they keep going even when it no longer feels good.
I have a dear friend whose parents were both alcoholics. Her childhood was difficult and as a result she has never put a drop of booze near her lips. When she goes to parties and the host asks what she wants to drink she requests coffee. Sometimes if there is a great deal of pressure she takes a wine class and fills it with water. She sips on it all night long and most people think she is drinking with them. It’s terrible that she has to justify her decision to do so, but years of attending therapy sessions to talk about her traumas as a young girl have made her strong and determined to be herself.
I have known people who had to entertain clients as part of their jobs and invariably drinking was involved. They learned the hard way that once they started they were not able to stop. Some of them admitted to their addictions and learned how to control them but others ended up losing their jobs and their families and hitting rock bottom. I suppose this is why I stop when I do. I am not a party pooper. I simply know my limits and that one drink is it. Sometimes I feel that no drink is what is just right and on those times I emulate my friend by sticking with a glass of water or tea.
I like a nice red Merlot or a Malbec from Argentina. I have to have something to eat with my drink and I have to consume the alcohol slowly. If I do those things I avoid headaches and horrific heartburn. I enjoy the experience and keep my head clear. I know that others are better able to tolerate drinking than I am but I always become a bit unnerved when I see someone going beyond what they can handle well.
I never met my maternal grandfather but my understanding is that he liked to come home from work each evening and have a single glass of wine or port or maybe some brandy. He made it his habit to have only that one drink to relax after a long day of working in a meat packing plant. A family story recounts a time when a young man asked for Grandpa’s blessing in marrying one of his daughters. Grandpa poured the suitor a bit of brandy to enjoy while they discussed things. They spoke of the man’s work and his plans for the future while sipping on their drinks. When the man’s glass was empty Grandpa offered him a refill which the man politely refused. Grandpa immediately gave his blessing for the marriage and later told the family that he would have said, “No” if the man had accepted a second helping.
I suppose that I enjoy the feeling of relaxation that comes with a good drink but also respect those who have learned when enough is enough. I know exactly how awful I feel any time that I go beyond my single glass and so I have learned how to nurse my drink like my friend nurses her coffee or water. I also admire anyone who keeps it within the realm of still being able to walk a straight line. Like my grandfather I worry about those who get sloppy drunk. I’ve witnessed the consequences far too many times among people that I have loved. I think we would all do well to know our limits and then refuse to stray from them. Lives are changed forever when we lose control.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 