I was researching something this morning and came across this article on “The Sadness and Thrill of Drinking Alone.” I have drank alone more times than I could possibly count, so the article was interesting to me, especially this little ditty near the late-middle portion:
The stigma attached to this drives addicts to hide our solitary bingeing from our closest friends and family until we’ve hit bottom and have no choice but to reveal it. A 2017 study found that one in eight Americans is an alcoholic, but Constantine Diakolios, a medical director at Sunrise Health Treatment Center in New Jersey, says we don’t know how many of those people drink alone.
In my specific case, I’ve been married twice since 2013. I’ve been in other relationships before that. I’ve had a few 20+ year friends, and I’ve been in and out of probably 11-12 different groups since I turned 22. I would highly doubt anyone in those subsets, including the people I’ve lived with, knows exactly how much I’ve drank alone.
Now, has this gotten better over time? Yes, with pockets of backsliding and failure here and there. But better? Yes. My first job out of college was teaching kids in Houston; there isn’t much change to day-drink or solo-drink when you’re an educator, so I wouldn’t say I did it much there. When I went to Connecticut for ESPN, I had weird hours and not many friends, so I did it a little bit there. Back in NYC for ESPN, I had better friends and did it less by myself, but around fall 2009, I had a few friends move away for grad school and I started doing it a lot more. It’s been up and down for the 11 years since, including prolonged periods of not drinking at all, but there’s been a ton of solo efforts in different cities around the country (and, honestly, the world too; I drank solo in Belgium and Dublin, among other places, while on trips).
Actually, on I believe Halloween Night 2009, I had been drinking by myself at a bar in my Queens neighborhood, then started talking to some older guys about college football, drank more with them, and ended up meeting up with some friends in Manhattan around 6pm. I was already sloshed and dropping huge chunks of guacamole on top of my new iPhone, and my friend sent me home in a cab. That was probably the first time I realized that maybe I shouldn’t pre-drink at a bar by myself, but in 11 years, I’m not sure I’ve completely changed that narrative. Better? Yes. Perfect? No.
So let’s run down a little bit of this, shall we?
Is the male vs. female experience of drinking solo different?
At home? I’m not sure. A woman might watch different types of TV or something.
At a bar? Yes. Women get hit on much more. I have gone to bars by myself probably 1,000+ times, and I’ve been hit on maybe 10 times max. So it happens (** cracks knuckles **) but it’s not as common.
Why would someone drink by themselves at a bar?
The big reasons, typically?
- Boredom
- Depression
- Want to numb some emotional state
- Hoping that someone will sit down that you can talk to about random whatever topics
- Problem with alcohol
If I had to self-diagnose on me and those five bullets, I’ve hit all five at some point, and they’re all probably a part of me. I’ve had some bad days/nights drinking, without question, and you can argue it was a factor in losing one marriage, but I’ve also never been to jail, I can make money for myself, support myself, have friends/relationships, etc. So I’m not the “rock bottom” story that you always hear about people who drink alone, but would I say “not being rock bottom” is a good bar to set? No. That would be incorrect.
The biggest reason is Bullet No. 4. I’ve been in and out of a lot of friend groups and I don’t always feel comfortable with self, but I’m good at starting and maintaining conversations at bars unless I’m already hammered as hell. I can talk about a lot of things; well? Maybe not well, but I can carry my half of most conversations up through a good number of beers. It just allows me to feel connected to energy and people and randomness and different ways of looking at the world in ways that other conversations and outings do not.
Healthy? No. Energizing? Sometimes.
What’s the peril of drinking solo?
Pretty much everything else: creates fatigue, issues with driving, maybe you post dumb shit on social media, unhealthy, costly (at bars), signifies a problem, etc, etc.
If the peril outweighs the promise, why still do it?
It’s a form of addictive behavior because I’m a depressed person disappointed in who I am and what I became, often. As I wrote here once, my whole life sometimes feels like a quest to be heard, or for people to care about me. I feel like I’ve had a real hard time with that, from my parents right through the modern moment I’m typing this. I just don’t know if a lot of people are really interested that I’m even around, and I’m sure I have done some of that to myself. I haven’t invested properly in others. I probably drink in part because it’s a social lubricant. It eases those moments.
Honestly, I think I’m scared. I think I’ve been scared of relational failure since I was really young, and I don’t know if I’ve ever gotten over that. I’ve done OK in the face of it, but I’m just always terrified and sad about people not really liking me, or caring about me, or wanting me around.
I think the anger and sadness comes from not having a lot of close friends or relationships as a kid. I did a men’s retreat over the summer and had to make a life timeline, and one thing I realized is that I had huge pockets of time where I felt pretty alone. I was usually home alone on weekends. I just figured I was lame, didn’t fit in, etc.
So, that’s why I have done it in the past. It’s just a way to feel connected to and energized by people who may sit near you, who may give you a life tidbit in that moment, who may seem really interested in your perspective — which, out in the real world of day-to-day interactions and tasks, it’s hard to find. But that’s what I’m working on.
I know it’s not wise or cost-effective or healthy, but I wanted to give people some context on why it happens.
