I was in a new place with new people. Nobody knew the story of my life; where I was from, what I had been through and the person my experiences molded me in to. There was nobody to judge my past, rather the decisions I made after the moment we met.
This guy asked me my age and I replied with 21. You can probably imagine why I choose that age for my lie, but it isn't what you think. I wasn't planning on drinking all summer. I actually planned on avoiding it.
--Starting my freshmen year of high school, my exposure to alcohol was at a high. There is a lot of history of alcoholism in my extended family, so alcohol was nothing new. Neither was its "benefits of abuse." I had easy access to drinks and it only got easier as I went through high school and college. With my history, this proved to be a harmful exposure. --
When he asked me my age, my stomach immediately sunk to the floor. I was living with people of age and hanging out with people who planned on enjoying their summer in style, with drinks in hand. After a second or two of deliberation (while trying to pretend I was too occupied with work to answer right away) I decided to tell him I was 21. Here is my reasoning.
In the past, I turned to alcohol quite often when I didn't think I could handle what life was throwing at me. My high school years were rough and I wasn't properly equipped to handle them on my own. Knowing I was going to be spending the entire summer around alcohol..... I lied.
I lied because I didn't want to be judged. What if I craved a drink... and cracked? In the moment I debated my answer with myself, lying seemed like a better way to avoid judgement than drinking under age.
I did crack, on multiple occasions and I had my ways of avoiding trouble. I managed to avoid getting carded and convinced my roommates to "grab me something" while they were at the store or share their beer with me.
At one of our gatherings, I came home late from work and everyone was drinking and enjoying their evening. After ten minutes of sitting on the couch, I walked to the kitchen and made a very strong drink... and then another... and then another. The next morning, he didn't hesitate to ask me why I started drinking... when I had previously told him I didn't drink. I shrugged my shoulders and quickly changed the subject.
--- During lunch one day, he asked me why I never had a drink when we went out. I replied with "I don't drink." He questioned if there was alcoholism in my family, and based on my reaction, he asked if I was an alcoholic. I quickly responded with a no and didn't change my answer or explain when he hesitated, watching me, giving me a chance to share. --
****I never drank to get drunk. I have never liked the feeling of losing control of my body. Even one drink makes me tired, but six... or ten knock me out if I let them. I drank to sleep.... to dream.... to forget the world... to live in my dreams and not with the pain I felt when I was awake.****
This isn't a lie I can keep forever. He'll find out eventually, along with everyone else there. Maybe if he reads this, if they read this... they will forgive me.
You have my deepest, most sincere apologies and my endless thankfulness for caring. I'm sorry. Just know that I greatly miss every second that you cared.
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