Niklas' blog

It all started with Mikaela and me getting to Frederic’s place, where we ate great sushi, drank wine and played a little X-Box (I did so rule on Burnout 3, as did Anka, who also attended our little pre-event) and then left for Peter’s birthday party. We’d never visited him before, but his family (which also includes his girlfriend Liina and their lovely little girl Elvira) lives in a very nice apartment on the south side of Stockholm, in-town. Anyway, there were a lot of nice people there, which did not stop me from drinking excessively. We opened a bottle of Moët & Chandon Vintage champagne, and then another bottle of something or other, and then gently left Peter’s party to go to Finn’s birthday party.

Finn is a long-time friend of Frederic’s, and very nice guy still! Our arrival there is about the last thing I remember before delving into more champagne, wine and oblivion.

Mikaela had been telling me to stop drinking long before this point, as I almost instantly turn into a bastard when I drink too much. My problem = if I drink when out or at parties, I often drink all the time. I very seldom stop for thought or sanity, and just continue drinking, which is something I’m very good at for approximately five seconds, and then turn into a complete bastard (not at all times though, it happens at irregular intervals). Do I seem repenting? Read on.

As Mikaela told me I was drinking far too much, I started telling her I wasn’t. I apparently flopped onto Finn’s bed and then started fuelling my paranoia; Mikaela stood talking to a couple of straight edge guys about their radio programme, and noticed I looked like I had passed out. She walked over to me and asked me how I was doing, to which I responded by spewing vitriol at her. I told her she was being hypocritical telling me not to drink while she was speaking with guys, laughing with them, who were obviously pissed out of their minds. My paranoia had kicked in. A little background information on this: I have never been jealous like that, passively accusing Mikaela of flirting or whatever, but as I had drunk myself into a paranoid state, there I was. A bastard. And yes, the guys were straight edge, which means they don’t drink. I cannot tell you enough, how far this “persona” is from my sober self, which any of my friends would agree with.

Mikaela was hurt by my rant, and I went on by imitating her in nasty ways before semi-passing out on the bed, but not before I went on to accuse her of telling Finn that I was utterly drunk (which she of course hadn’t done, and even if she had, what the fuck?). I can’t express how utterly shameful I am of all of this, but wait, there is actually a good punch-line at the end, without irony.

We left Finn’s party after 10 minutes, as I had become insane. I had ruined Mikaela’s night not only by semi-forcing her to leave the party (although she thought of leaving me to my own devices by going home by herself, which my sane and sober side would have recommended) but also by insulting Finn by leaving a few minutes after arriving. When Mikaela and I arrived home by taxi, I stepped out of it and vomited on a big plant in the neighbours’ flower bed. Mikaela called it a “coup de grace”. We entered our home, I yanked off my clothes and fell asleep instantly, snoring so loudly that Mikaela slept badly. She didn’t fall asleep at once. She cleaned vomit off my left shoe first. I hate myself and I want to die.

As I’ve written once before in this post, I am so full with shame. In a few hours I will call Frederic and ask his apology for my behaviour, and I will call Finn as well. I’ve of course since spoken with Mikaela about all this, and she has filled in the details after we arrived at Finn’s party. I vaguely remember what his apartment looked like but I can’t remember anything of the night that happened after that. Not a thing. This is mostly what happens to alcoholics, and even as I am not predisposed to become one (as I cannot drink much without the above happening to me), I am much like a mad alcoholic when I’ve drunk far too much and this is something I’ve been meaning to take care of for long. Soon you’ll get to the money-shot.

Before that, though, I’d like to share a little story of the time when Jesper, Andreas and I started a hip-hop club, “Click”. The opening party was a blast, and we drank so much I couldn’t even DJ properly. Here’s a tip to all club-owners: don’t let the DJ drink! Anyway, I figured that if I couldn’t DJ, what was the point of having a club? We didn’t require an entrance fee, but letting people come in and try and have a nice time while we were banging out crap through the speakers sounded too much like a bad horror film rather than a good time. Hence, I stopped drinking while at our club and I remember the following times there as splendid. I didn’t feel any of the I’m-not-having-any-fun-now-that-all-my-friends-are-drunk-and-I’m-boringly-sober that some people in that position complain about. No, I felt grand and had a good time. There’s even a recording of my first DJ gig. The start sounds good, but after a while one quickly hears the horrid shit I let loose at the guests: nothing’s in time, the volumes betwixt tracks are all different and I cross-fade like I’m paying a license to.

The truth: I’m going to stop drinking while going out. It’s not just because I hurt the person I love the most; this is something that has been on my mind for a while. I’m not doing this to show the world I’m such a good freakin’ person now I’ve made the decision, it’s just a sober, good decision.

There is a big difference between me drinking when with friends, having dinner, just sitting and talking, and “the me” who’s drinking incessantly. I’m not trying to “blame” my “other side” for this, as I’m fully aware of what can happen when I drink too much, and I’m the one drinking. I’d hate it to wake up one day finding that I sound like raging alcoholics trying to blame everybody and everything for their state.

I’m not going to stop having a glass of wine at dinner sometimes (which happens about once a month) or a shot of whisky (which happens about once a week), but it’s the extreme drinking sessions that bring out the very worst in me, I think. I’m not like that when I’m sober, and it’s just a step in the right direction. Less money spent, less head-aches and good decisions. Let’s see how it evolves.