it provides them with a scapegoat or excuse to justify their own bad behaviour. There is an inherent weakness in this where people delude themselves into thinking that their choices are no longer theirs and thus they are morally safe; hey, it wasn't really 'them' just like how people blame others for their own misdeeds or even play social games to sneakily avoid responsibility for what is essentially their wrong decisions. — TimeLine
I guess it can be like that, but mostly what I observe in myself and others is (and the article goes into this)
shame the following day, the shame of having revealed oneself too openly or of having transgressed boundaries. The quintessential shame of the hangover represents an inability to
avoid personal responsibility, and those who feel the most shame are very often let off the hook, not by themselves, but by others. (I must stress that I'm talking about what I regard as the normal experience of drinking, not the violence and destructiveness that alcohol abuse can produce).
I don't like that. It lacks existential adventure because to me, I find it thrilling facing my fears and being brutally honest. The alcohol in the above-mentioned is not revealing anything but your cowardly escapism from the sensation of social anxiety that you may feel, but for me coming face-to-face with that feeling and defeating it is so exiting. You expose your vulnerability, your need to feel belonging by doing the same thing for the same reason that others are, a need for love and a fear for rejection. You are escaping from your reality rather than changing it and making it what you really want, which is just a shame really. — TimeLine
Certainly drink
can be cowardly escapism, but this is such a pedestrian point that I feel there must be something deeply wrong with it. First note that by "anxiety" I mean it more in the general existential or Heideggerian sense than simply "social anxiety", although that may be an expression of it. I mean that in drinking we choose to drop this basic anxiety for a while and forget the paraphernalia of who we are, that we might have larger projects in life, that we will one day die and what are we going to do about it? It's easy to regard this as escapism, but I've tried to suggest a different way of looking at it. In the same way as "don't take yourself too seriously" is sometimes good advice (advice that bores and snobs and fanatics never learn to take), "get drunk once in a while" might be similarly good advice. In fact, getting drunk once in a while is a good way to stop taking oneself too seriously. It's a way of taking up an essentially
humorous or
playful stance on the world.
I don't drink because the social anxiety builds up until, on Friday evening, it all gets too much and I retreat into a warm loving wine. That is your caricature, and it doesn't fit many of the drinkers I know (except for a couple of alcoholics, who don't wait till Friday, or evening for that matter). It's a definite decision, a decision to have fun. You may choose to regard it as mindless fun, inconsequential fun, irresponsible fun, and no doubt many other bad things, but to me it is not like that. And I don't especially want to either escape from or change my reality. I want to take up a different stance on it, or get inside it in a different way.
Drink is not without its downsides, of course, and the very fact that we must mourn for that sense of wholeness in the morning suggests it's no more than a small glimpse into a kind of life we
might be able to achieve some other way. But at the very least, given the kind of society we live in it seems rather too earnest and proper to turn down, based on some inflated sense of one's bravery in the face of the unintelligible universe, the chance of improved social interaction.