Stolen Gin - I Brushed Up Against Alcoholism
Yikes, okay, I know that title might be alarming, but let me assure you that I am safe and in no way in any harm or danger.
I am writing this from my dorm bed in Budapest. This city has been a rollercoaster for my health, my emotions, and my growth as a person. I am sick today, not from a hangover, but with a cough and stuffy nose. I’ve been physically sick on and off in Budapest for the last week. Annoying, yes, but I’m glad I don’t have to spend sick time on a train. But a nasty virus hasn’t been the only thing keeping me bedridden on my adventure.
Here’s my confession to myself, to you my dear reader, and everyone else in the world:
I am drinking too much alcohol!
I think I finally realized this after my first 2 nights in Budapest. Both nights I got absolutely hammered with the hostel group, but the very moment I felt just a little out of place or just tired, I would get an extreme mood swing, become upset, and go wander off to another part of the bar (the bars and clubs in Budapest are gigantic), or I would just leave by myself. The worst part is that I don’t really remember the details of those nights. Sure, they were fun (I think), but I like to feel present and engaged with the people I’m around (and actually remember things too), but being under the influence of this poison for this amount of time has made me far less aware of myself and others. I also realize it’s not really safe to be wandering the streets of a foreign city alone at night while heavily inebriated. At some point during my thoughts about my recent attitudes and behavior, I am reminded of stories of those who suffer from alcoholism. I wrote a short personification of my feelings at the end of this post.
One of the main causes of my recent behavior is the culture of hostels. A majority of hostel-goers I have met are on vacation for only a few days, sometimes a week, but usually under a month. Since there’s never a dull night at a popular hostel, the social environment and fear of missing out has incentivized me to keep up with the crowd on most days of the week.
I typically don’t drink daily back in Denver. My schedule of drinking is reserved for Wednesday-Saturday nights, and it’s usually only 1-2 drinks, sometimes 3. Here in Europe, on average, I think I’ve had 2-4 drinks every day.
You can probably see how 41 days of this would compound into an issue for my health (and my wallet). I’ve unfortunately seen alcohol’s short-term effects on my body and the long-term effects on my mind. Being hungover has knocked a couple days off my trip, where I would lay in bed with a pounding headache and be sick to my stomach trying not to puke up what little water I would try to drink.
That’s the short-term, though. I think the long-term impacts have started to catch up with me. In Budapest especially, I’m experiencing more negative emotions, more depressive, introverted and reclusive behavior, and I feel less sharp, charismatic, and confident in social interactions. Even after thrifting some queer outfits and wearing them to the clubs, something still just felt… off.
Some of these behavioral and emotional changes are certainly a byproduct of alcohol use, but they’re also part of my changes as a person. One of my goals of this trip was to change some of my daily habits. Reading and writing more often is one of them, another is to reduce screen time and social media use. My theory is that my brain chemistry is completely out of whack. Alcohol and social media both have powerful impacts on the kinds of hormones and chemicals that flow through the brain, and the increase in the former and a sharp decrease in the latter has been messing with my state of mind.
I’m taking some steps to help regulate my brain chemistry and solidify my habits so I can reclaim the same mental sharpness I had when starting this adventure. First, I’m grounded from drinking for a week to help reset my system, and then going forward I have a fluid drinking guideline that I will follow. It’s not so much a strict “you can only drink alcohol at these times” schedule, but more of a balancing system to ensure I don’t go off the rails again. Moderation is key.
On the flip side, creating rigid schedule structures for other aspects of daily life such consistent wake-up times, screen time limits, setting aside time for reading, and eating properly are critical to my health. I believe I started strong when establishing these habits at the start of the trip, but I ended up losing my routine while partying in Budapest.
The best helper for enacting these schedules has been my personal journal. My self-awareness has increased tenfold while using it. It contains happy memories, deep thoughts, my angers and frustrations, anxieties and stresses, goals and achievements. Reading into my own past gives me a stronger sense of humanity and hope for a better version of Gannon. I must once again thank my friend Dan for sending me on this adventure with a blank travel notebook - it has been an invaluable tool for my well-being and I would not have thought to use one had he not sent it to me.
This post would usually take me an hour or two to write, and it has taken me the entire day. I need to get up and eat something so I can be healthy for Kraków tomorrow. Thank you again for reading these posts, I appreciate the support of each one of you. Expect to hear more about Vienna and Budapest soon!
And no, I did not commit petty theft as this title suggests. I heard this artist while eating traditional Hungarian goulash soup earlier this week.
Before me was a road, bathed in darkness and an eerie fog, with low and wicked branches poking out every which way. The dirt path had a grim aura about it, yet it still beckoned with the sweet song of vices. As I fearlessly yet cautiously blazed the trail, ducking below sharp twigs, this fog rolled in thicker than before and obscured my eyes to time itself, both ahead and behind. I closed my eyes and scenes played out in my head of what may happen if I continued following the path, and I finally saw through the lies and the temptations. This was a road I wished to not… nay, one I refused to continue down.
And so changes must be made to let the sun rise on the path once more. May the light of optimism zap away the fog of uncertainty and let it breathe new life into the leaves of the trees. With my sight restored, I change my course. I find the paved path lined with the grass and the flowers with colors and all the other nice things, all guiding me through this bizarre and incredible experience with a cheery disposition and a renewed sense of vigor.
