Zvone – Inner Dialogue

The Strange Discomfort of Being the Sober One A few days ago, I was unexpectedly invited to a family celebration. Well, perhaps not completely unexpectedly. I could have guessed it was coming, but part of me had still been quietly avoiding the whole thing. Large family gatherings become slightly complicated once a person stops drinking. Especially if the family still drinks normally. Or what society calls “normally.” I have now been sober for a year and a half. My relatives know I am an alcoholic. At least technically. But I am not entirely sure they truly understand what that means. To them it often seems less like an illness and more like some unfortunate habit I should eventually learn to control. Something between bad discipline and bad luck. They are my closest relatives, and I know they care about me. But at the same time I sometimes notice a certain discomfort around the subject. As if my sobriety quietly disturbs the atmosphere. As if I became slightly f...

Drunk By Obligation Yesterday one of the younger nephews celebrated his eighteenth birthday. The family organized a proper village-style celebration. A maypole was raised, long tables appeared under a canopy, crates of drinks materialized from somewhere mysterious, and relatives operated with the quiet efficiency of people who have organized exactly the same event at least forty-seven times before. Most guests were his generation — classmates, friends from town, loud boys pretending to be men already and girls pretending not to notice them pretending.  The atmosphere started warming up already in the late afternoon. Naturally, the first thing served was whisky. Because apparently in human civilization the transition from “child” to “adult” is traditionally marked by immediately poisoning the liver. The Ritual Begins At first everyone behaved relatively normally. People laughed. Music played. Someone grilled meat. Someone carried chairs around nervously as if chai...