Falling Into the New Year

On New Year's, my brother hosted a party. About twenty people showed up to drink a little bit, dance a little bit, play cards, watch TV, and just generally hang out. As 2008 drew to a close, our friend Martin punched himself. In the face. Which is ridiculous, but people do stuff like that all the time. But no, Martin hit himself in the face hard enough to knock himself through a window.

As the glass shattered, my brother and his roommate hauled him back in through the window and extracted the glass shard about the size of a deck of cards from his ass. There was a little blood, but nothing to infect anybody or make anyone pass out. The room went quiet. The music was turned off. And my brother made an announcement:

"Everyone leave. Grab a DD and get out." And they did. Within fifteen minutes, his apartment went from a party house to empty. Mason walked around and turned the lights out and called my father.

"I'm afraid my neighbors are going to call the cops."

"When did this happen?"

"Like fifteen minutes ago."

"Well, if the cops aren't there yet, they aren't coming. They're out in force, especially tonight." This comforted my brother somewhat. My dad offered to send me to go pick him up so that the apartment would be abandoned in case anyone showed up. My brother declined...they would be able to figure out whose apartment it was with the most minute of efforts.

"I'm just going to go to bed."

"Where is Martin?"

"Sean drove him down the street."

"Sean's been drinking!"

"And it's just down the street." With that, my brother hung up the phone and maneuvered into his bedroom in his pitch-black apartment. And he went to sleep.

The next morning, waking up to see the hole in his wall, he duct-taped a sheet over it, and called a glazier.

Now, this story is funny to me because someone punched themselves hard enough to fall through a window. I don't masochists with that sort of willpower. It just goes to show you the evil of drink. I feel likke after one of these stories, I should now tell awful prom night stories and tell you how many empty calories are in beer. But I don't really believe that. I like wine a lot. And sometimes, I like being tipsy.

But, just because you're in college doesn't mean that when you drink too much consistently, you don't have a drinking problem. Just because it's cool to drink every weekend and practically expected doesn't make that not borderline compulsive. Alcoholism is one of the unspoken diseases of the young.

How do you deal with something like this? As much as I love a bulleted list, I don't know what to say. You can talk to the person, but they won't be receptive. Due to the cultural factors and the normalcy of the problem, few people would actually seek help. And it's not every one looking for a good time, but there are enough people with problems to make this story an uncomfortable chuckle on the iceberg of larger problems.

So, I'll continue to see people show up drunk to shows. I'll continue to watch people drink fifths of vodka by themselves. I'll watch an Oprah special unfold right before my eyes.

And I don't know how to stop it.

But this is making me sad. I'm going to go have a margarita and feel better.