The Normal Drinker

The other day, I found myself with a rare afternoon of nothing much to do. I grabbed some snacks, lay on the couch, and got ready to indulge in some mindless TV. Then it hit me—out of nowhere. My mind skipped back to the countless times I’d done exactly the same thing, but instead of snacks, it was a bottle of wine.

I remembered the process in striking detail. First, earlier in the day, I’d make sure the wine was in the fridge. Then, once I was ready to “relax,” I’d pour a modest glass, with every intention of sipping slowly, and only having one. About 20 minutes later, the inner struggle would begin. I’d resist at first, trying to focus on the drivel on the screen, but soon enough, I’d jump up with the justification that I’d only had one and could surely allow myself just one more—after all, [insert multiple and varied excuses here].

Not long before I was midway through my show, I’d slowly amble back to the fridge, resigned to my fate. The excuses and justifications no longer mattered—only the knowledge that while there was cold white wine in my vicinity, I couldn’t resist.

Five years later, I still scroll through the list of shows and wonder, Did I watch that? I’ve probably gotten more value from my streaming account than most—simply because I need to watch everything again.

The fact is, after around two drinks (and let’s be honest, my glasses were never 150ml, so let’s make it four), the part of my brain capable of making the decision not to have another was about as useful as Netflix without WiFi. It was completely offline.

This is why so many of us can’t stop at one. Because one warms us up, two shuts us down, and after that, we’re at the mercy of the part of the brain that just wants more—regardless of the consequences.

So why is it, then, that some people don’t seem to have this problem? Some days they don’t drink, other times they binge, and in between, they have one or two. It’s not a simple answer, but I am crystal clear on one thing—it has nothing to do with willpower.

How do I know this? Because, like me, so many people I know who can’t stop at one have willpower in bucketloads when it comes to everything else. But alcohol is the one thing they just can’t seem to control.

Knowing what I now know, it’s ludicrous to imagine that once you’ve consumed a decent amount of an addictive substance, you wouldn’t become addicted. But this addiction comes in many shades of grey. A combination of genetics, psychology, upbringing, and environment dictates how long you can dabble in the shallow end of grey area drinking before making the inevitable descent into deeper, darker waters. But the fact remains—anyone who drinks regularly will eventually develop some level of dependence. What’s unique to each individual is how much pain they’re willing to tolerate to keep justifying the behavior.

A hangover here, an argument there, a missed day at work, or letting a friend down is rarely enough pain to motivate change. But everyone’s experience—and response—is different.

I struggled to control my drinking for so many years that it became the central focus of my life. If I wasn’t drinking, I was thinking about it. If I was drinking, I wasn’t thinking much at all. But afterward, my thoughts would race with self-criticism, frustration, and judgment—berating myself for my weakness and lack of self-control.

What a way to live.

Eventually, the pain of disappointment and the anger at myself for not being in control became too much to tolerate. More than that, I feared that if I didn’t take back control, I would never reach the potential I knew I was capable of. I would play small my whole life—and justify it—the same way I justified “just one more,” with increasingly devastating consequences.

In the end, I accepted that the equation of alcohol + me equaled short-term escape and long-term misery. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought or what they were doing. I am unique, as we all are, and I had to decide:

When was too much—too much for me?

Clients often say they wish they could drink like a “normal” person, but in the words of addiction expert Gabor Maté, it is the myth of normal that tortures the grey area drinker. We believe in the unicorn of the normal drinker and compare ourselves to them. But there is no such thing as a normal drinker—just as there is no such thing as a normal person.

I can say with absolute certainty that I know two, maybe three, people who genuinely drink moderately. And by moderately, I mean they don’t binge, and when they do drink—once or twice a week at most—they have one beer or one glass of wine, after which they feel drowsy and sometimes can’t even finish the glass.

Maybe they just have different biochemistry. Maybe they have high GABA. Maybe their equation is me + alcohol = fall asleep.

Whatever the case…

If we can’t stop at one, then we can’t kid ourselves into thinking we’re drinking for the taste—or even for a tiny buzz. We drink because we want to feel less pain or more excitement. We want to feel—or not feel. Either way, alcohol works. But one will never be enough, because feelings enhanced or numbed by alcohol only change short-term. The real feelings will keep coming back.

So we have a choice. We do the math.

Do we want to keep running from these feelings? Do we want to keep relying on a substance to bring fleeting joy? Does alcohol offer more benefits than it takes away from our lives?

This equation is unique to each individual. Until we focus solely on our own experience, we’ll keep trying to make 2 + 2 = 5.

If the negative consequences of your drinking are too much for you, it doesn’t mean you’re not normal. The intelligence lies in recognizing that it isn’t normal to try and escape the reality—and beauty—of your feelings and experiences.

So if we want to think about 'normal' maybe the best way to see it is living life as it is, and living our unique and best life, however that looks —not trying to escape from it.

Love,

Sarah