There is an explosive cocktail of impulsive personality, latent insecurity, and trauma in some people...which can precipitate in foolish action and extreme behavior when combined with alcohol.
Last night was an exciting conclusion ot a unique chapter in medical school: midterms.
It also marked an important change in my lifestyle: distaste for inebriation.
The enchanting and contained nights by the fire with my friends were always exciting. We had parties in the barn with strangers and friends. They would bring random items which we would smash and pull apart to decorate some sculptures or shoot with a bow and arrow. We had a punching bag which people would improvise capoiera or medeaval martial arts on. It would be normal to kick back a whole 6 pack for each one of us and go for a swim. The lightning bugs, tree frogs, and goats reminded us that the planet is a beautiful place.
The rip and rumble of Madrid was a great place to jostle about with friends or lovers. It was normal to drink a cervecita after a day with students. I would have a bottle of Polish wodka, some port wine, Spanish wine, Mahou, or Jack Daniels waiting for me at the end of the day. My roommates and I would chat or I would go out to speak with strangers after a light buzz.
On the road we would move from acquaintances to best friends over a pint of the beer of ... whatever country we were in. I had two drinks while talking about Bulgarian politics and immigration with some political scientists I met at the local restaurant by the Black Sea. Drinks were 2 leva (about 1 euro or 1.33 USD).
J'ouvert marked something different. After forming a small group of close friends I decided to hit some of the morning party. The appeal of drinking in this setting has disappeared. Vibrant, exciting, cordial, and dangerous the people here can seem. After that day of greeting the morning with rum punches and guinness I hit a wall. Deep depression followed the day after...and I knew that I preferred a mixture of activity and friendship that didn't require any alcohol...
So my life changed. I had one drink after unified exams and one drink at a restaurant before the school year began.
My impulse has been self-improvement ever since. I greet the sunrise on the beach at 5 in the morning with a run. Then I eat an apple and grind up some coffee or drink some instant iced coffee. Then, I sit down at my window overlooking St. Georges and the yachts of the beach and do 10-25 anatomy questions, a histology quiz, and biochemistry questions. I fry up some bacon, look at my schedule and catch a bus to campus at 7:15 on Tuesdays and around 9 every other day. On Saturdays and, less frequently, weekdays I chat with friends in Spain via skype to stay fresh with my abilities.
I attend every lecture, for about 4 hours a day. During the breaks I go outside to overlook the water and eat some sandwiches or an apple. Between lab, my morning review, and lecture I go to the gym and work either biceps/chest, triceps/back, legs/abs, or shoulders/abs and have cardio for at least a half hour on the elliptical. I review the lectures after working out and eating dinner. I catch the evening bus and cook either a vat of Spanish/Cuban rice or a good cut of meat (local usually...but I've been buying more US pork chops lately) with vegetables. As I cook, I listen to podcasts about science in Spanish and do 5 minutes of French listening exercises. Then, I eat and review labs.
After a particularly tough day, I workout twice. Before bed, I do deep breathing and listen to Sean Beeson's piano music while I clean the apartment. I sleep around 10:30 p.m.
The last thing I do while I wait to surrender to sleep...is think back over my accomplishments and how full and beautiful my life is becoming.
There is no place for alcohol, senseless entertainment, or chasing girls. There are a lot of beautiful people...but the distraction would disrupt this functional life I have.
Last night was a little exception. A 6 pack of Mackeson and a half bottle of rum were consumed. Then, at a bar with friends, I got another beer and a pack of cigarettes. After dinner, I confessed some things about the past week with a friend...something which I had to tell someone in person. He was good to listen...although I hate to rely on someone...it's nice to have a friend I'm confident will listen to me.
After coming home I wanted to "tear it up" (to me that means go out and talk with strangers and learn something new about the world)...so I took the last beer and headed for the beach. On the way, an English woman stopped me and said "you can't go runnin about like that unless you're lookin for trouble! You look like a man who can handle yourself in a fight but you don't wanna come up against a gang of people waitin' for white guys. They'll rob you blind or worse." I replied "but I don't have anything." She said "you're asking for it...that's all I'm saying." After thinking about it...I replied "fine. I will go home then."
She walked with me for a little ways and then the bus security guard jumped out of the bus. "What did I tell you! You can't go out at night! It's NOT safe!"
That night in Prague was not safe. Going out in New Orleans after dark with a man I didn't know to a place I'd never been...was not safe. Hitchiking in Bulgaria to the woods with those strangers to a corner of the black sea was not safe. Running around with the Gypsy in Porto asking for directions was not safe. Whisky and fire in a barn is not safe. Swimming out to the far rocks off the coast of Barcelona was not safe. Confronting a group of rude immigrants in Paris who were smoking marijuana at midnight was not safe. Spending the night at a birthday party with a crazy Palestinian woman who lied saying I was her cousin to go to one of the fanciest parties in Rome was not safe. Talking to strangers with my terrible French in Casablanca at midnight was not safe. Going to Istanbul and seeing the protests and getting trapped in an alley with an Iraqi as they pointed tear gas guns at us and drove tanks down the streets was not safe. Coming back to America with $4000 in my savings from teaching stuffed in my shoes was not safe. Going to Spain with less than $200 and no set place to stay was not safe. J'ouvert morning by myself was not safe.
There are many more places I've been and situations I've faced which were terribly unsafe. At this point in my life...my desire for risks has changed incredibly. I still want those adventures in my spirit. There is still a drive to drink in the fullness of life from a perspective I had never seen.
Alcohol doesn't have to be a part of it. In fact, things are better if you can remember them fully. From today onward...I won't drink in excess. This morning I woke up at 8. I missed my run. I felt miserable. The apartment was messy. There were now cigarettes and alcohol in my house...something that I didn't have or want for 2 months.
That first drink was so bitter yesterday. Cloyce died. When I heard about it I cried...not for myself but for my mother. She's been through so much pain in her life and can't contextualize it because she is inside of it. The confusion of a baptist upbringing with emotional abuse and the threat of eternal suffering is so hard to break. It's something that everyone who is raised in that denomination must endure or escape.
A lot of the running around has been away from the secrets and mistrust generated by events with my family. The events that he perpetrated. My brother has also been a source of huge conflict...but his autism helps us understand the limited culpability which he has.
I can say that I got out of it...got over it by myself. There have been incredibly helpful people and stagnant and useless intitutions which ave both tried to guide me. In the end, I have had to stand on my own two feet. That schedule with rigorous discipline is what gets me through. I have thrived here because I knew what I had to do.
My friend once told me that I dwell on things. This is true. This is something I'm trying to strike a balance with. It was hard to have my grandfather die the week of midterms. I kept kicking up memories of the house where he lived, the strange secrets my family tiptoed around, and the potent confrontations we had. These things have given me the strength, experience, and empathy to relate with almost any situation.
I will not dwell on this anymore. Today I will go into St. George's to have a little adventure, go to the market, see the fort, and probably spend the day with nice people. Tonight I will hang out with a group of positive people, have a nice dinner, and enjoy the time off studying. Cloyce is in his box now and forever; I will never visualize him in heaven because it is a childish conundrum in an irresolvable debate.
The rum in the freezer will stay behind the frozen fruit I use to make my mornin smoothies. I don't see breaking it out anytime soon.
