I’m doing Dry July. And it’s been kind of… nice. When I’d thought about doing Dry July and how it might be a nice break, it was a small shock to realise that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone so long without a drink. And that bothered me.
Earlier in the year, I wrote an editorial defending students’ right to drink. As adults, you have the right to choose what you put into your body. The very people who now criticise students for their drinking habits were likely just as bad (or worse) back in the day. Nowadays, they probably mask it by drinking nicer alcohol, like wine that doesn’t burn on the way down, or switching up the Billy Mavs for a scotch on the rocks. But at the end of the day, it’s still alcohol. It still gets you drunk.
I stand by my defence of students’ individual choices. But you’re kidding yourself if you think that your drinking choices are entirely your own; that they haven’t been shaped by New Zealand’s binge-drinking culture. We’re all just as bad as each other in this country. We drink for every reason under the sun – a nation of rubber arms. In Dunedin, our reason can be as simple as it being a Tuesday and you’ve got nothing better to do than sink a bottle of wine on your lounge floor.
I’ve lived in Dunedin for five years now. Going home for semester breaks during my undergrad, I’d notice how differently I’d been socialised compared to my friends who’d gone to other unis. It would surprise me to find that the dinner we’d organised wasn’t assumed to be a drinking event, rocking up with a box only to find no one else had. My flatmates would greet me with similar stories, and we’d boast to each other that it must mean we’re just ‘heavy weights’. To us, it was synonymous with ‘the life of the party’. I cringe to think how much money we’ve collectively spent under this belief.
We’re three weeks into Dry July, and alcohol has already become decentralised from my life. I’ve enjoyed reconnecting with activities that aren’t fundamentally about drinking – or that are only tolerable with a drink in hand. I love a boogie in town, but who’s to say you need alcohol for that? As it turns out, raves can be just as fun without a booze-buffer. I went to three in Re-Ori – including a Swamp Rave – propped up by an energy drink and the superiority complex of everyone else doing Dry July.
So, for me it’s about breaking the habit this month and rethinking my relationship with alcohol. Rather than instinctively reaching for a beer when I get stressed, to work through writer’s block (was lowkey worried for my writing on this one), or even just for something to sip on, I’ve reached for tea instead. This might be the first editorial I’ve written without being at least a little tipsy.
I love a cheeky bevvy, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes, I think I love a cheeky bevvy a little too much. Or I really don’t, drinking with a grimace on my face just to kickstart my body into socialising mode. I won’t go so far as to say I’m a converted teetotaller, but I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to go back to the state of constant fatigue that’s lifted.
And Dry July’s benefit is twofold. The campaign recognises the dangerous binge-drinking culture in New Zealand, offering an opportunity for Kiwis to take a break from the drink both for themselves and those in the community in need of support. Not only are you held accountable to cutting back on the booze, but it’s for one of the worthiest of causes.
I’m sure it’s not an understatement to say that everyone has been affected by cancer in one way or another. My family has. The funds raised during Dry July go towards improving the comfort, care, and wellbeing of those affected by cancer. For the last week of Dry July, I’m welcoming you to donate the amount of a box, a bottle of wine, or a Pint Night pint. Just this once, let peer pressure be for a noble cause.