You know, it’s kind of funny how the minute we gain even the slightest bit of autonomy, we tend to abuse it. We think we know best, but this is quite contrary. It was the summer that I turned eighteen when I messed everything up, or at least when I started. I got into the club scene in the most cliché, and innocent way possible.

I went with a friend of mine to a small apartment party that one of our other friends was hosting. The ironic thing about it all is, I was more responsible in my partying than everyone else around me. We’ve all been to the “innocent” party. The drinks are Mike’s Hard Lemonade and Smirnoff, both of which contain about 5% alcohol per volume. I had a few Smirnoffs and everyone else had… a lot. So much so that they were inexplicably drunk when I got back from getting a pizza, a pizza with a penis drawn on the box.

It’s quite a pathetic story, really. They wanted a cheese pizza and I was the only one who wasn’t drunk so I went out to get it. However, another person stumbled over to me and shouted, “You should get them to draw a penis on the box! That’d be hilarious!” Again, I was eighteen and had never been involved in any of this behavior so did I have the courage to ask the cashier to draw a penis on the box? No, no I did not. Instead, I drew it on the way back to the apartment. Oh, I should mention this was at around 12 am and they were only doing carry-outs. So, I get back and two girls switched bras and were laughing about it and another girl threw up on the carpet. How did something so light in alcohol do this? Well, they found a bottle of whiskey. The rest of the night I spent taking care of my friend, put her in the car, drove her back to her apartment, left her in her bed with a note of what happened, and went home.

But then she wanted to go out to clubs and so did our other friend. We went out to The Rabbit Hole, which was actually pretty fun. I saw a ton of people I knew, and they were shocked to see me there. It was the first time I tried a “sex on the beach” and had vodka and Red-Bull. Bodies slithered across each other, grinding, and imitating a sort of wildlife sex ritual. Sweat dripped onto everyone and then the girls behind the bar got up on top and threw napkins into the air. Bright, white, lights from cell phones strobed around the club and devilish laughter breathed into the atmosphere. In that moment, I let everything go and just thought about the burning alcohol sliding down my throat and the rush that flowed through me. This, however, was not the first time I got drunk. No, I was tipsy for sure, but within an hour I regained my consciousness and urged my friends to leave. This was no easy task.

I had one friend’s arm wrapped around me, and other one wrapped around me. Both of these girls were plastered and I carried them all the way back to the parking garage. On the way there, one of them asked for a stranger’s number and I told her no, a homeless man asked for money and I gave him all I had left: $2, and another man said, “good luck bro” as he saw me struggle to carry them. But, I luckily got them into the car and drove them to my house where I placed one of them on my couch and the other in my little brother’s bed (he was at a friend’s house that night). I also put a bucket by each of them, only one of them threw up.

But the partying continued, not just in the sense of clubbing, but partying in general. I spent the remainder of my money that summer to go to a concert where I got extremely sunburnt. I was spending money recklessly, hanging around people who weren’t a good influence on me, and doing other irresponsible things that weren’t usual for me. The partying continued through my freshman year of college and subsequently, this is one of the factors that lead to me failing college my first year. I cared more about the drinking and partying than I did my own education. I was with a bad social crowd, and I made stupid choices.

Almost one annum after I began partying, some friends from work had a party at one of their houses and this was the first and only time I’ve been drunk. I had vodka and whiskey and even my state of inebriation had innocence in it. Apparently, I demanded math problems and as I solved each one I shouted, “I’m f***king Bill Gates”. I even laid on the floor, looking at the ceiling, saw an “eco-friendly” lightbulb, looked over at my friend, and said, “I didn’t know you were going green”. I don’t remember a lot from that night, but those two things I remember.

So, I’ve talked about these instances of partying and drinking and you should know, I don’t condone it anymore. There was a time in my past where it was my life, and as a result, my life was fragmented. It’s okay to have a drink every once-in-a-while and it’s okay to hang out with friends and have fun, but I don’t define fun as having to guzzle down shots of alcohol to forget everything. If you need to completely be intoxicated to have fun, what kind of life are you living? Since I’ve left this scene, I excel academically, I have friendships that mean something, the “drama” in my life is at about 1%, and I’m just happier each day. I left drinking at the age of 19 because I realized that using liquor to numb your life and living with a headache the next morning is a pretty depressing way to live and seeks to find no fulfillment.

Trust me, I don’t hate alcohol. I like red and white wine and rye whiskey, but I don’t condone alcohol abuse and the time spent clubbing, I could spend improving aspects of my life, engaging in meaningful social activities, or just relaxing on my own. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be - the club life - because at the end of the day, you’ll always end up with a massive headache… and who wants that?