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John Barleycorn and Me

Posted on October 10, 2002 in Addictions Avoidance

I find it difficult to eat out with friends, sometimes, simply because I don’t drink. There’s no moral reason for it. There’s a medical one — I take Prozac and a few other medications that shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol. Plus I never really liked it — while the flavors of liqueurs delight me, I’ve found that I really don’t enjoy the effects of the commonly consumed inebriants. They make me sad, very sad, and that’s the central problem of my mental illness. Even before I was diagnosed as depressed, I knew it wasn’t good for me.

Lynn does have religious reasons for not drinking. She’s a Quaker and some among the Friends avoid the use of mind-altering drugs as an obstacle to knowing God. Lynn is one of these.

Here’s the trouble: I don’t mind if people with me drink. Hell, if they want a margarita or a glass of wine and I’m treating, I’ll buy it for them. But I can sense that they mind that I don’t. I encourage any one who doubts this to try this experiment: the next few times you go out with your friends to a bar or a club, don’t drink. When they ask why, just say that you don’t feel like it. After a few rounds of nonparticipation, the questions will start. “Why aren’t you drinking?” or “Are you an alcoholic?” or “Why don’t you want to have fun with the rest of us?”

The last question in particular grieves me. Am I so boring that I cannot charm when I am sober? Do I cause such pain that some kind of anesthesia is called for? Some drinkers never seem to think how insulting their attitudes about who is worthy of their company can be. I’ve been called a “tight-assed preacher” by my brother, who does not feel comfortable without his Henry Weinhart’s or Rainier. He drinks up and after a while, he starts to sit stone silent in a corner. I’m no fun, he claims, and yet I laugh and sing and play games like others. The only thing I don’t do is drink. It’s not fun for me.

So again, this weekend, I’ll be going out with my one friend and companion who doesn’t make a big deal of the fact that I don’t drink. I’ll look across the table at Lynn and think how sad it is that she is burdened with the task of keeping me entertained and connected to the human species.

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