Early. Third year of high school, I was addressed formally. Not in a health class, but a shrink's office. A shrink I didn't pay for. He was a 'mentor'. He ran a legion of Young Achievers that reached out to their even younger counterparts. It was performance art, literally and figuratively. We staged enactments to illustrate the dangers in drugs/sex. Performances.
When I was confronted in a sit-down manner about my dark hour dalliances, it came with great girth. I drank alone. Once. That was the straw. Shrink said my behavior was (displaying signs of) alcoholism. Alcoholics cannot control their consumption. Drinking alone was a sign that the consumption had taken over.
Those whom had consumed strictly amongst friends-- clearly sober folk.
Tonight I drank alone. $2 bottle of Cabernet from the grocery. Cheap, but it's got an 84. I was alone for most of my sipping. I was cooking. This was night two of my culinary charade. And night two of the sipping. If anything came from my sips, it was the deep solace of an easy night. I felt a great sense of indulgence in my own spirit. Nothing like that night last week, when amongst friends I helped a teenager celebrate his birthday by giving him the lap dance of his (thus far) life. Everyone was drunk. It was wonderful.
To life. Cheers.