The Moist Series. Written by Esme Jalla

I’ve never thought I had an issue with alcohol. 

I’m not at war with the bottle, and I can drink with control.  

If left to choose, I prefer a moderate state of intoxication. 

But secretly I have a part time problem. 

I'm in a long-term substance use situationship - with alcohol.

I'm a social binge drinker.  

When I’m required to shed my introverted side and perform; as a date, as a mate, wheeled out for an occasion... It's then that alcohol is centre stage.

Me and Merlot are soft and cerebral. 

Vodka and I are confident.

Beer and me, say "fuck it and be".

White wine, I’m usually fine, occasionally though I’m hostile.

In the company of other binging beasts, I drink more than I normally do. 

I down the danger juice, choose a stronger poison, order a larger measure, to match the extroverted natures of others. The sad thing is, some of them are just like me, feeling like they also can’t just be.

There’s tribalism in the drinking sesh and rituals we all partake in around the planned excess of alcohol. Licensed premises host our hedonism. Rounds of grape or grain are bought to gesture our generosity. But it's also to double up on our drinking. Consent is assumed, and we push the personal limits of others indiscriminately.

"First rounds on me, we’re doing shots."

Once someone's led the charge, we challenge each other to drink faster, harder, longer, goner.  We don’t all have the same limit but have administered the same dose, which leads to some of us being more wasted.  Lighter dispositions for drink are laughed at and at worst ridiculed and we can be personally blamed when it all goes wrong.

The last time this happened to me, I was badly concussed and unconscious.

I woke up in a hospital bed, vile and wasted. I catch the drift of my friend’s disclosure to the ER doctor.

“She can’t handle her drink, that’s what this is”.

I feel shamed and shameful. She leaves before I’m discharged.

“Your war wounds.”

But what if it was the group's gunfire that led to my severe intoxication?

There's a side that’s heavy and dark to all this drunk lark.

Blood is shed. Someone hits their head.

Some cretins prey on our inebriation and forcefully abuse precious parts of us.

Yet still, alcohol is legal, and binge consumption Is permissive.

There’s even special spaces and happy hours of the day designated to cheaper measures of mood crashing liquid.

Even breakfast isn’t off limits for the binge drinker. 

Cultural events like Bottomless Brunch provide a before midday dispensation to get wasted.

90 minutes to drink your fill.

Psychologically, the time limit leads us to over consume.

It's easy on the purse too but costs our bodies plenty.

The brunch is barely munched, the eggs untouched, dry or claggy.

"Oi Oi" one of your mates is getting aggy.

The venue's hired someone to play on the sax to serenade your drinking.

By mid afternoon, the hangover's the chorus.

It’s understandable that campaigns for no drinking are the antidote for too much drinking, and that Dry January, from the first of the year, starting without a beer, holds mass appeal then, for all sorts of drinkers.

It’s an opportunity for a bodily reprieve from anything alcoholic.

A chance for our liver to function without the stress of processing poison.

It’s an intent of abstinence that is more easily upheld, and supported by those that normally push us to carry on drinking.

Being dry gives us an excuse to go home early, or hibernate in good health, away from all the forms of socialising that usually require a drink.

The tribalism of drinking together can also be replaced with the solidarity of alcohol avoidance and just until the 31st, it's presented as heroic and helpful not to be drinking.

Is a month enough though?

 Does going without and setting a timer do anything deeper to change our identity as alcohol users and abusers?

Is there reflection, and then reform of some of our extreme patterns of usage

Or are we partaking in Dry January only to feel okay about topping up in February?

Are we secretly upholding alcohol seeking behaviours?

How helpful is it to construct January as a tedious countdown to our first pint?

I can't tell you Drug Clubbers, because I’ve never taken part.

This year is probably the most encouraging start, up until now I just haven’t felt like drinking. It's been my intuition so far, this year to go without.

I’m starting my year without a beer because not unlike other drugs, alcohol has caused me consequences.

In my decade of adulting,  a few health phobias have set in.

There’s a family history of degenerative illness.

 I like to train my body and to observe it without any additional wine weight.

I need to break free of the squeeze of social drinking to re evaluate how I spend my time and what my friendships and relationships look like without alcohol.

Am I accepted as just me? Am I allowed to be who I want to be?.

Is this a dull night? Is he a bad choice? Am I seeing things through Rosé tinted glasses?

I'm still not convinced dry January's is the challenge I need to pay more heed to my binge drinking. Sure, I’m still sober.

But the pressure to conform to the whole thing or be seen as weak willed or having a problem if I don't do the whole thing is too reductive.

My rebellious expression is turned off by the conformist nature of the challenge.

I don’t want to compete with anyone, or have my own abstinence monitored.

I’m not down for sniffing out the failures of friends or creating heroes out of people 4 weeks sober and then back to the pub.

I’ve decided, a few moist months are going to work better for me.

Don’t binge drink and see.

For now, that’s it for me.

Esme Drug Club Co Founder.