I Cry When I’m Drunk & I’m Not Ashamed Of It

Some people are a ton of fun when they’re drunk — they’re giddy, uninhibited, and ready to take on the world. Not me. Once I slip from tipsy to full on drunk, there’s only one possible outcome: tears. I cry my eyes out when I’m drunk and I’m not remotely ashamed of it. Here’s why:

Crying is kind of my thing. 

I cry A LOT. I don’t need alcohol to help me get there, either. I’ll basically cry at anything — a TV commercial, a book, a sad song, a baby laughing… you name it, anything vaguely sentimental will get the waterworks going. Alcohol is just another trigger to add to the list.

It’s a release. 

Why do I cry so much? It’s a release. Some women go running, others knit, I cry. Sometimes there is so much rage, sadness, or even happiness coursing through my body that I just can’t take it anymore. Crying is the best way for me to release it all. Once the first tear falls, the floodgates open and within 10 minutes I’m like a whole new woman. Alcohol only makes this whole process that much easier (and more likely).

It’s easy (and that’s okay). 

I don’t do confrontation — I just don’t. Sometimes I’m pissed as hell but I can’t bring myself to talk about why. Once I’ve had a couple of drinks, I get braver and a little loose-lipped. Is it the easy way out? Sure it is, but that’s okay. Who says life has to be hard all the time? You might call it cowardice but I call it efficiency. I can say what I want and then cry about it and everyone just writes it off as me being wasted.

It keeps me honest. 

For better or worse, there are a lot of things that I’m too ashamed or embarrassed to tell my boyfriend and/or family, so I don’t. The problem is, they start to eat me up inside. That’s where a night on the town comes in handy. When I come home in tears, I’m forced to discuss what’s been bothering me. Again, you might think this sounds like cowardice, but I call it self-awareness.

It empowers me to stand up for myself. 

Sometimes I cry because I’m sad, but often I cry because I just can’t take it anymore. There’s too much crap making me mad and I’m done. In that moment, when I’ve had too much gin and the tears of rage are streaming down my face, I get to say whatever I want. I’m rarely brave enough to speak my mind in the moment, but when I’m drunk, I get to live in a fantasy world where I’m a badass woman who stands up for herself.

It’s pure, raw emotion. 

When you’ve had a few too many, you don’t care… about anything, really. You don’t pay attention to who’s watching you cry or what they’re saying about you. Crying is a perfectly natural thing and drunk crying is the purest, rawest form of it. I say we should all embrace our drunk tears and acknowledge that from time to time. It’s good not to give a damn about anybody else every once in a while.

It lets me be vulnerable. 

My parents proudly raised me to be an independent woman and for the most part, I’m so grateful to them for that. The drawback to being a strong-willed woman is that I don’t give myself the space to be vulnerable. If I can’t control it, I don’t want any part of it. Drunk crying lets me be vulnerable and to let my guard down. It gives me the opportunity to acknowledge that I’m scared or tired so I can feel those emotions and be back to normal when I sober up.

It feels damn good. 

There’s not much else to say here. The sense of calm and relief that comes from hysterical, snotty-nosed, puffy-eyed, drunk crying is sensational. If you’ve never tried it, I highly recommend it.

It sobers me up. 

Along with that sense of calm comes the realization that maybe it’s time to stop drinking. By the time I get to drunk crying, I know I’m done for the night. There’s also something about the huge release that sobers me up enough to get a glass of water, climb out of my dress, and crawl into bed.

It’s actually not my fault. 

This isn’t me making excuses, it’s 100% true. Alcohol is a depressant and drinking too much affects my brain and there’s nothing I can do about it. Well, I guess I could stop drinking altogether. Maybe someday.

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