Asking yourself "Why Do I Drink So Much"? You're Not Alone.
Have you ever found yourself asking “why do I drink so much?”. Does it feel like you’re always the one getting carried away, unable to stop until either all the alcohol is gone or you pass out? Have you woken up after a night out, wracking your brain to piece together what happened, wondering if you embarrassed yourself, hurt someone’s feelings, or made a promise you don’t remember?
I know this was the case for me, and it only got worse as time went on.
The Illusion of Control
At first, I told myself I didn’t have a problem. Sure, I liked to drink, but so did everyone else, right? I was young, going to bars, hanging out with friends, and doing what people in their twenties do. Drinking was part of the culture, part of the fun. I had plenty of nights where I could keep it to a drink or two, but looking back, those were always under limiting circumstances – first dates, work functions, family dinners. Situations where I had to keep it together. But the moment those external constraints were gone, I drank like I had to make up for lost time.
If I spent a night nursing one or two drinks, it was almost like I was compensating for it later. It felt like I had earned the right to cut loose the next time, which almost always meant I went overboard. And after a while, my version of “cutting loose” wasn’t just about having fun – it was about obliterating myself.
Signs I Couldn't Ignore
By my mid-twenties, it became harder to ignore the reality of my drinking. It was around this time I started asking myself “why do I drink so much?”. There were little signs, red flags that I would brush off or justify. But over time, those signs piled up, and the justifications became harder to believe.
For example, I noticed I was almost always drinking more than most of my friends. At a bar, while others paced themselves or even left drinks unfinished, I had already scanned the table to see if anyone was done with theirs so I could justify getting another round. At parties, while others might casually sip, I was always topping off my drink or making sure my cup was never empty. I wasn’t drinking to socialize – I was drinking because I felt like I needed to.
Another big realization came when I noticed I would always strategize around alcohol. If I was invited somewhere, my first thought wasn’t about the event itself – it was about how much I would be able to drink. Would there be alcohol? How much? Would I have to drive? If so, could I find a way around that? I became skilled at avoiding responsibility so I could drink the way I wanted to. If that meant bailing on an event because I had to drive, I’d do it. If it meant finding an excuse to take an Uber, I’d come up with one. I thought I was being smart and resourceful, but in reality, I was prioritizing alcohol over everything else.
And then there were the mornings after. The regret, the anxiety, the hazy recollections of things I said or did. The slow, creeping realization that drinking wasn’t fun anymore – it was a cycle. A never-ending loop of drinking too much, feeling like garbage, swearing I’d take it easy, and then repeating it all over again.
The Lies we Tell Ourselves
Denial is a funny thing. It lets us see the evidence of a problem and still convince ourselves that everything is fine. I told myself a lot of lies to avoid admitting the truth.
• “I don’t drink every day, so I’m not an alcoholic.”
Even though I wasn’t physically dependent, my binge drinking was out of control. I didn’t need alcohol daily, but once I started, I couldn’t stop.
• “I have a good job, so my drinking isn’t affecting my life.”
At the time, I was keeping things together on the surface. But that didn’t mean alcohol wasn’t impacting me. It was affecting my relationships, my mental health, and my ability to be present in my own life.
• “I’m just having fun – this is what people in their twenties do.”
Maybe that was true for some people, but not for me. Drinking wasn’t just about fun anymore. It was something I relied on, something I planned my life around.
• “If I really wanted to, I could stop.”
This was the biggest lie of all. Because every time I tried to cut back or control my drinking, I failed. And when I failed, I drank more to drown out the disappointment. Yet I’d keep asking myself why do I drink so much?
Breaking the Cycle
Eventually, I had to face the truth: my drinking wasn’t normal. It wasn’t just a phase or something I could brush off as youthful excess. I had lost control, and deep down I knew it.
Obviously this wasn’t an overnight thing. It took years of trial and error, countless mornings filled with regret, and plenty of failed attempts to “drink normally”. I would try to limit myself to a certain number of drinks or set rules for myself, like not drinking on weekdays. But it never lasted. The rules always broke down and I always found an excuse to drink the way I wanted to.
It wasn’t until I truly accepted that I couldn’t control my drinking that things started to change. The ‘why’ I’d been asking about why do I drink so much didn’t matter anymore. I had to admit to myself that alcohol wasn’t serving me but it was actually controlling me. And as hard as it was to come to terms with that, it was also liberating.
Sobriety didn’t happen instantly, and it wasn’t easy. At first, the idea of never drinking again felt impossible. How would I have fun? How would I handle stress? What would people think? But as time went on, I realized that the things I feared most about quitting drinking were illusions.
I learned that I could have fun without alcohol. Real fun, not the reckless, blacked-out kind. I discovered new ways to deal with stress, ones that didn’t leave me feeling worse the next day. And as for what people thought? The ones who truly cared about me supported my decision. The ones who didn’t? Well, they weren’t really my friends in the first place.
Looking Back
Now, with some distance from my drinking days, I can see things so much more clearly. I wasn’t just a “party person” or someone who liked to “have a good time.” I was drinking to escape, to numb myself, to fill a void I didn’t even understand. Alcohol gave me temporary relief, but it always left me feeling emptier in the end.
If you’ve ever found yourself questioning your drinking, wondering if it’s becoming a problem, I encourage you to listen to that voice. That little nagging feeling isn’t just paranoia – it’s your intuition trying to tell you something. And I promise, life on the other side of alcohol is better than you think.
You don’t have to hit rock bottom to make a change. You don’t have to have a dramatic wake-up call. You just have to be honest with yourself. And if you’re already asking, “Why do I drink so much?” – maybe you already know the answer. You deserve a better life. You deserve to let yourself live!
