12 Alcohol Overuse Red Flags I Ignored When I Was Drinking

Back in the days when my liver and I were not on speaking terms, I developed a Ph.D. in ignoring red flags about my drinking habits.

These flags were so bright and numerous, they could have guided ships safely to harbor.

But did I pay attention?

Of course not. I was too busy being the life of the party, or so I thought.

Let’s dive into the 12 alcohol overuse red flags I blithely ignored, which I shall herein pontificate upon in a rather self-deprecating, comedic tone, but also with a hopeful message at the end because, spoiler alert, I eventually saw the light:

1. My Recycling Bin Looked Like a Glass Factory: Every week, my recycling bin rattled with more glass than a chandelier factory. If recycling awards were given out based on the sheer volume of wine and beer bottles, I would have been a perennial all-star.
2. Bartenders Knew My Order: So… back in the days of yore, many many MANY years back, when I was still stuffing pretty much every single one of my feelings down so deep that even I didn’t know I had any feelings at all most of the time, and when I wasn’t so paralyzed by anxiety that I spent most of my days waiting hesitantly to feel “safe enough” to do normal things like, you know, go outside… so, yeah, back in those days, well… walking into my local bar sometimes felt like stepping onto the set of “Cheers,” where everybody knows your name—and your drink. Which says a lot, really, because I was a quiet introvert, even then. And yet the bartender often had my usual ready before I even found a stool. Convenience or a cry for help? You decide.
3. My Budget Had a Line Item for Hangover Food: My monthly budget was meticulously planned, including a non-negotiable allocation for post-binge eating. Because nothing says “financial planning” like earmarking funds for greasy comfort food.
4. “Wine O’Clock” Became a Legitimate Time of Day: My internal clock was alarmingly accurate at heralding the arrival of Wine O’Clock. Forget AM and PM; my day was divided into Coffee Time and Wine Time (or Whiskey Time or Margarita Time or… really just Any Old Ethanol Time).
5. I Perfected the Art of Concealing Hangovers: I had more tricks up my sleeve for hiding hangovers than a magician. Sunglasses indoors? Check. Strategic water bottle placement? Check. Mumbling about “allergies”? Double check.
6. Social Events Without Alcohol Seemed Pointless: Invitations to alcohol-free events were met with confusion and a touch of horror. “A picnic without beer? What’s next, a birthday party without cake?”
7. I Became a Connoisseur of Convenience Store Wine: I prided myself on my ability to navigate the nuanced world of convenience store wine, a skill that is as dubious as it is specific.
8. “I’m Never Drinking Again” Became My Mantra: The number of times I uttered this phrase directly correlated with the severity of my hangovers. Yet, like a goldfish, I seemed to forget my vow as soon as the next weekend rolled around.
9. My Social Media Feeds Were a Tribute to Alcohol: Scrolling through my posts was like touring a brewery, with the occasional distillery thrown in for good measure. #WineWednesday #ThirstyThursday
10. I Had a Drawer Full of Bottle Openers: Because apparently, one can never have too many ways to open a bottle. Each opener was a souvenir from a night best partially forgotten. I even kept one on my keychain too, always at the ready just in case, because you just never knew, you know?
11. Drinking Games Were My Olympic Sport: If drinking games were an Olympic event, I would have been a decorated athlete. My competitive spirit soared in direct proportion to the alcohol content.
12. The Thought of a Dry January Filled Me With Dread: The mere suggestion of spending a month sans alcohol was enough to send shivers down my spine. Dry January? More like “Try Not-to-Cry January.”

In all seriousness though, recognizing the red flags was the first step on my journey to a healthier relationship with alcohol. The journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s also a path I’ve never regretted stepping foot onto. I’m not a perfect person, and I still struggle with sobriety at times — sometimes a little, and sometimes a lot. But I’m still putting one foot in front of the other, and moving forward, in the best way that I can.

As a result, my recycling bin is less noisy, my budget more balanced, and my social media feeds more diverse.

There’s hope and help for those who seek it, and life on the other side of alcohol overuse is brighter, clearer, and infinitely more rewarding.

So here’s to recognizing red flags, not as stop signs, but as weirdiful guideposts to a more fulfilling path.