There are probably as many reasons people drink, or drink to excess, as there are people who do it, ranging from “relationship with mother” to “dog passed away” to various other things in between. I myself have been on this Merry-Go-Round of general life bullshit for probably 12 years now, if not longer, with some pockets of success here and there combating it, and a couple of Wednesdays along the way where I was probably blacked out by 4pm. Hey, I’m just being honest.
In trying to solve this important life equation through a mix of different things, one thing I come back to with some degree of regularity is why one would want to be blacked out before darkness falls on a Wednesday. What exactly would drive that?
For a long time, the best quote I had heard was from that Zendaya HBO show, Euphoria, where she says something to the extent of it’s a way to turn your brain off for a while. I like that, and agree with it. I literally woke up at 3:30am this morning in part because I had a dream about a former boss of mine, and in part because I felt I needed to write an article for someone on what post-COVID managerial responsibilities will look like. Neither of those things are important in the least, but they crowd my brain, so sometimes I want to turn off my brain, and I haven’t found the same success, long-term, with exercise or volunteerism or anything else. Working on that.
For me, though, I think the bigger picture is that I don’t ever feel very “seen,” which is crazy because I’m a huge person, something like 6-6, 380. And yet I’ve felt ignored by so many since I was a kid. I don’t want this to become a litany of slights, but people constantly don’t seem to listen to me, outright ignore me, jump over me in threads, don’t invite me on group vacations, etc. It’s hard. After a while, it’s a complete bitch to emotionally manage that. You look for outlets. Sometimes they’re not healthy.
I know this kid down in Texas, Coleman. He has four kids. Periodically, mid-day, or 5pm to 5:35pm, he will dart off to a bar before resuming his patriarchal duties. I run into him sometimes. We have a completely basic relationship where we talk about generic stuff, and sports, and stuff in the city, and sometimes we text each other funny memes or links. In some ways, apart from potentially my marriage and a few friendships I have, this is the most “seen” I will feel in a given week. It’s just 30-45 minutes of pure whatever, but constant conversation and acknowledgement of the presence of other. It’s saccharine, of course, and driven by two guys consuming beers, but it feels seen, and I don’t get to feel that way very often.
You contrast that with like, I have a friend of 20+ years, good friend of mine in my brain, and mostly he just sends me rants about how awful Biden is. Sometimes I’ll be like, “Hey, how are your kids?” or try to guide him towards asking about me, and nada. More about how the libs are destroying America. I guess that’s a form of male connection, tho. I have another friend from back in the day, 15+ years, who stopped following me on Twitter because I was “talking too much about mental health.” I went to see a friend in Arizona on the weekend my ex-wife was moving out of our apartment, and he shat down my throat. I got guys I’ve known for 20+ years who have legitimately taken six weeks to return a “How’s life?” text. (Admittedly that text is generic as fuck and hard to respond to.)
I guess that last paragraph was my litany of complaints paragraph.
I hate the fact that diversity and inclusion efforts at work have co-opted like 20 different, meaningful words for the woke Instagram era — but the idea of belonging is important. HR uses the word terribly, but it’s important in day-to-day life, and you might argue it underscores much of the broader human condition. I mean, ain’t we all trying to belong? To be seen? To be heard? To be connected? To be loved? To have a message or two acknowledged? I’d say so.
And when you don’t get that, you can turn different ways. Some people may become world-champion weightlifters; others may live under a bridge in Phoenix. Much of our life is a reaction to what we’re getting from others, tho. Do we belong? Are we seen?
So try to do this for others if you can, and realize that sometimes when a person is a mess here and there, it’s not because that person is bad, or a fuck-up, or can’t pull it together, or whatever other moral assignation you want to make on them. It’s simply because they don’t feel seen, heard, or loved.
