The idea of writers being drunks is hardly new, hardly unknown. In fact it’s well known that many of our most beloved author’s often drank themselves into oblivion (even death). It’s also known that drinking can in fact help the creative process. The problem is it’s become such a crutch for me lately. Lately is an understatement.
It’s hard for me to talk about. Admitting some personal failures comes rather naturally. I’ve gained weight, I’ve been self pitying with my anxiety/depression, I’ve become extremely negative, etc. Other’s are harder for me.I drink too much, too often, and it’s become too much of a crutch.
It’s a crutch for my mental health, and I use my writing as an excuse to further use that crutch. The reality is there is something to be said for the relaxation a beer or glass of wine affords me. It does help me to shut out the voices and just focus on my projects. The other reality is that lately I don’t just do that. I drink far too much for it to even be possible for me to give my best work. I also do it far to often.
I also have not challenged myself to truly see what I can write or do without a bit of drinking.
I don’t know that I am making any declarative statements right now. I do know that I need to stop using my crutch for awhile at least. Stop using it to hide and not face the realities of my mental health, and stop using writing as an excuse.
I need to tackle my personal issues sober for awhile, and tackle my writing the same way. There have been a number of famous authors well known for their drinking, but there have been plenty that didn’t fall into that classification as well.
Even as I write this I don’t know if I will publish it, but it’s something I’ve reflected on far too often without doing enough to tackle it.