The Sober One
I know it's a somewhat unusual position for me, but I am occasionally 'the sober one'. I have fairly well documented stints when I quit drinking and other times when I just choose not to drink for whatever reason. In these moments, I end up 'the sober one'. I don't expect the world to stop or even cut back just because I've stopped or cut back. This means that if I choose to go out, I will more than likely be 'the sober one'. I have to say, it's seldom an enviable position. Drunk and sober don't mix well, especially when I'm the sober one.
I'm rational (some may say extremely so). I'm also reasonably analytical (none will say extremely so). On top of all that I have a very low tolerance for bullshit and stupidity. When I'm drinking several things happen - I become a little less rational, a little less analytical, and I'm able to deal with a wider range of b.s. and stupid. When I'm sober and everyone else is drinking, b.s. and stupidity quotients seem to steadily increase. This usually results in an issue or two. With me. Not with anyone else. I tend to get quieter than usual and the part of me that detests small talk stares off into space. At this point, I will have mentally exited the building and be frantically searching for a real escape. All with a smile on my face. I may look slightly bored, but the beauty of said situation is that drunks (or 'people who have been drinking') are nearly oblivious to their surroundings.
Until I draw attention to myself by announcing that 'the sober one', otherwise known as 'the designated driver', is leaving and unless folks want to pony up for cab fare they better get to saying their goodbyes. At this point, I become 'the party pooper', 'the buzz kill' or 'the boring pain in the ass no one wants to admit they invited'. I suppose I'm good enough with it. Hell, they usually forget their stupid, drunk, asshole comments in the morning anyway. All is forgiven because all is forgotten. By them. I still remember, but as with everything in my world, I forgive. It's just what I do. In both the long and short runs, it saves my soul a chunk of worry and anxiety. Peace is what it's all about and peace begins with forgiveness.
Still being sober sucks in a room full of drunks. I don't mind staying mostly sober. It's amazing what a couple drinks can do for my tolerance of b.s. and stupidity. Truthfully, it's never a perfect situation, not even when I'm drunk off my ass. You see, I believe that alcohol simply accentuates the real person within. If you're an ass, you'll be even more of an ass under the influence. If you're stupid, you'll be even more stupid under the influence. If you're sweet, you'll be even even sweeter under the influence. Given that logic, no matter how much I drink, I will still be polite, deferential, and able to adequately feign intelligence.
Maybe I'm too smart for my own good. Or mature or boring. I'm really not sure what all I am. Tonight I was 'the sober one', less by choice than circumstance. I failed to BYOB and since I don't drink beer, I was relegated to water. I'm not mad at it (even though it was my birthday); it was my decision and my decision alone. As soon as I assessed the situation, I announced that I would be the designated driver. I didn't want to drink, but my friends did. In addition, while I can drink any night I want, they won't, don't, can't (It has to do with 'clean' living/eating/drinking. They are meticulously healthy six days out of seven; I am not).
Honestly, it was the least I could do and an easy decision to make. I enjoy drinking, but more and more I find that I enjoy it less and less. I guess that's because I've discovered a point of diminishing return. After two or three drinks, I'm toast these days. The AEPs (Anti-Everything Pills) don't mix well with alcohol and I don't want to risk a hangover. I love my life and look forward to each and every day so much that I don't want to end up wasting time laying in bed and praying for Gatorade. It's just not worth it to me. Like tonight, I could have BYOB'd (or done the shots of vodka that were offered) but I didn't. I'd already fought through one hangover earlier in the week and wanted to avoid a repeat experience. The day had been perfect; I didn't need alcohol and a subsequent adjusted reality to make it better. I was more than content to be the sober one.
Unlike several of my past birthdays. Last year, for example, I rued every second of the day - I was miserable, lost, left of center, and lonely. I missed home and missed me. Life sucked. Now 365 days later, I find myself renewed. Some of that has to do with having good friends, but most of it has to do with me. I am more deeply grounded - within myself and within my Spirit. I am happy and embracing life. I have my God and I trust Him implicitly. Last year I chose to escape with a wild mess that included a bottle of rum and a couple 'you call its', including an Irish Car Bomb. I wanted to be anywhere but where I was and anyone but who I was. This year I didn't want to escape (well, until I got bored with being 'the sober one'). I wanted to live and love the experience, which I did. Immensely.
I'm happy with where I am, even if it tries my patience occasionally being 'the sober one'. Yes, I designated drove on my birthday. I was good with it, good enough anyway. I still don't like being the only one sober. It makes me feel more like a misfit than usual and I always seem to spend an insecure moment or two worrying if people hate me. Soon, though, I come to my sober senses and decide that they can all just suck it if they don't like me. I know for a fact that drunk people like me better when I'm drinking. However, I also know that when I'm sober, I like drunk people better when they're not drinking. I guess that makes us even when I'm 'the sober one' - I try their patience and they try mine. This is usually when I start regretting my decision and wish that I had a drink in my hand. Next time. There's always next time.
I'm rational (some may say extremely so). I'm also reasonably analytical (none will say extremely so). On top of all that I have a very low tolerance for bullshit and stupidity. When I'm drinking several things happen - I become a little less rational, a little less analytical, and I'm able to deal with a wider range of b.s. and stupid. When I'm sober and everyone else is drinking, b.s. and stupidity quotients seem to steadily increase. This usually results in an issue or two. With me. Not with anyone else. I tend to get quieter than usual and the part of me that detests small talk stares off into space. At this point, I will have mentally exited the building and be frantically searching for a real escape. All with a smile on my face. I may look slightly bored, but the beauty of said situation is that drunks (or 'people who have been drinking') are nearly oblivious to their surroundings.
Until I draw attention to myself by announcing that 'the sober one', otherwise known as 'the designated driver', is leaving and unless folks want to pony up for cab fare they better get to saying their goodbyes. At this point, I become 'the party pooper', 'the buzz kill' or 'the boring pain in the ass no one wants to admit they invited'. I suppose I'm good enough with it. Hell, they usually forget their stupid, drunk, asshole comments in the morning anyway. All is forgiven because all is forgotten. By them. I still remember, but as with everything in my world, I forgive. It's just what I do. In both the long and short runs, it saves my soul a chunk of worry and anxiety. Peace is what it's all about and peace begins with forgiveness.
Still being sober sucks in a room full of drunks. I don't mind staying mostly sober. It's amazing what a couple drinks can do for my tolerance of b.s. and stupidity. Truthfully, it's never a perfect situation, not even when I'm drunk off my ass. You see, I believe that alcohol simply accentuates the real person within. If you're an ass, you'll be even more of an ass under the influence. If you're stupid, you'll be even more stupid under the influence. If you're sweet, you'll be even even sweeter under the influence. Given that logic, no matter how much I drink, I will still be polite, deferential, and able to adequately feign intelligence.
Maybe I'm too smart for my own good. Or mature or boring. I'm really not sure what all I am. Tonight I was 'the sober one', less by choice than circumstance. I failed to BYOB and since I don't drink beer, I was relegated to water. I'm not mad at it (even though it was my birthday); it was my decision and my decision alone. As soon as I assessed the situation, I announced that I would be the designated driver. I didn't want to drink, but my friends did. In addition, while I can drink any night I want, they won't, don't, can't (It has to do with 'clean' living/eating/drinking. They are meticulously healthy six days out of seven; I am not).
Honestly, it was the least I could do and an easy decision to make. I enjoy drinking, but more and more I find that I enjoy it less and less. I guess that's because I've discovered a point of diminishing return. After two or three drinks, I'm toast these days. The AEPs (Anti-Everything Pills) don't mix well with alcohol and I don't want to risk a hangover. I love my life and look forward to each and every day so much that I don't want to end up wasting time laying in bed and praying for Gatorade. It's just not worth it to me. Like tonight, I could have BYOB'd (or done the shots of vodka that were offered) but I didn't. I'd already fought through one hangover earlier in the week and wanted to avoid a repeat experience. The day had been perfect; I didn't need alcohol and a subsequent adjusted reality to make it better. I was more than content to be the sober one.
Unlike several of my past birthdays. Last year, for example, I rued every second of the day - I was miserable, lost, left of center, and lonely. I missed home and missed me. Life sucked. Now 365 days later, I find myself renewed. Some of that has to do with having good friends, but most of it has to do with me. I am more deeply grounded - within myself and within my Spirit. I am happy and embracing life. I have my God and I trust Him implicitly. Last year I chose to escape with a wild mess that included a bottle of rum and a couple 'you call its', including an Irish Car Bomb. I wanted to be anywhere but where I was and anyone but who I was. This year I didn't want to escape (well, until I got bored with being 'the sober one'). I wanted to live and love the experience, which I did. Immensely.
I'm happy with where I am, even if it tries my patience occasionally being 'the sober one'. Yes, I designated drove on my birthday. I was good with it, good enough anyway. I still don't like being the only one sober. It makes me feel more like a misfit than usual and I always seem to spend an insecure moment or two worrying if people hate me. Soon, though, I come to my sober senses and decide that they can all just suck it if they don't like me. I know for a fact that drunk people like me better when I'm drinking. However, I also know that when I'm sober, I like drunk people better when they're not drinking. I guess that makes us even when I'm 'the sober one' - I try their patience and they try mine. This is usually when I start regretting my decision and wish that I had a drink in my hand. Next time. There's always next time.
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