Alcoholism at University
You may think that the main parts of University education entail academic success and intellectual rigor. However, for most young people, the things you learn when moving away from home, possibly for the first time, are rarely limited to what you are taught in lectures. I remember my parents scouring the league tables for which institutions offer the highest rate of student satisfaction or where graduate opportunities were most fruitful. Meanwhile, my own research centred around the non-academic aspects of student life. Namely; the nightlife of each student city and where it was possible to get most pissed.
Alcohol plays an enormous part of many student lives. Freshers’ week is essentially a battleground where, after a couple of niceties enquiring where you’re from, what A-Levels you did and what you were studying, you’re sizing each other up over who can neck the most shots in 30 seconds, or who can down the dreaded dirty pint without puking before getting to the club. Chunder charts lined the walls of halls, and some of our proudest achievements were the copious number of Tesco’s Finest wine bottles that lined the windowsills of our flats for all to see and admire what pro drinkers we were. Lectures are filled with whispered boasts of conquests won on nights out, jibes over how smashed someone got after a minimal amount of drink, and plans for the coming evening, all mere minutes since the hangover from the previous night’s escapades wore off. We would go out with the singular intention of getting drunk, and actively looked forward to the warm feeling of fuzziness, knowing that inhibitions would be annihilated; giving little regard to the consequences of our actions whilst under the influence.
What I also remember is the queasy sensation in the pit of my stomach upon waking the next morning, even before the hangover had set in. Recalling the events of the night before where I possessed a confidence which, in reality, was a façade produced by intoxication which was enough to want to make me hide under the covers for the rest of the week. The morning after the night before would always be shrouded by some level of humiliation as the time came to face the music of making myself look like a right tit.
But for some, getting plastered at Uni can lead to far more ruinous consequences than simply making a fool of yourself. From a young age, even before we begin to consider university, we are taught the detrimental effect alcohol can have on our lives. Not only are we presented with a host of mental and physical health risks including heart disease, liver damage, depression and cancer, but the devasting impact alcoholism can have on relationships, careers and overall well-being is all too apparent. I’ve witnessed friendships and relationships go down in flames as a result of letting things slip after having a few too many. I’ve seen countless numbers of my peers being too heavy-handed with the bottle and ending up hospitalised as a result, yet not being deterred enough from getting plastered again the following week (or the following night, for some). I dread to think about the state of their livers 40 years down the line. Broken bones, broken furniture and broken hearts are scattered about campuses, with the singular culprit being the booze fuelling a scarily common student pastime.
A 2011 study surveying undergrads across seven English Universities identified 41% as ‘hazardous drinkers’, 11% as ‘harmful drinkers’ and a further 10% as ‘probably alcohol dependent’ (unihealth.uk.com). Clearly, this evidence of the harm that drink can cause to students’ wellbeing should be compelling enough to curb the recklessness of ‘the Sesh’. Yet the obsession is still rife. Why?
From the moment you embark upon your University career, booze seems inescapable. The hype of Freshers’ week puts an immense amount of pressure on students as it’s a chance to make a first impression that could make or break your social status at University, and essentially dictates who you will spend the next three years of your life surrounded by. You want to get it right. ‘Fitting in’ is key and getting legless has become the expected way to do this. Most events during that crucial first week revolve around pub crawls, club nights and finding the best watering holes in this exciting new city you now call home. And the events that don’t involve booze? Inevitably they are a dry affair- in both senses of the word. Attending these sober events makes you feel like you’re missing out on the real fun; foregoing what is essentially a rite of passage for most students and risking being seen as a bore or no fun. Therefore, spending the majority of Fresher’s intoxicated is seen as ‘the norm’. And therein lies the problem.
For some students, these drinking habits could be an indication of more serious problems that are overlooked when we consider binge drinking as customary for undergrads. Undoubtedly, moving to a new place, often knowing no one, is a highly stressful situation for some. And the stresses students face are not always alleviated after their first year. In fact, they will probably be come heightened. As the workload increases over the duration of a degree, it is perhaps more likely that students will turn to alcohol to provide an escapism from academic pressure. In the hustle and bustle of thousands of others, all adapting to this new environment in their own individual ways, one person’s increasing alcohol dependency can easily go amiss in surroundings where it is typical to consume excessive amounts. Thus, this process of normalisation makes it nearly impossible to spot the warning signs of the deeper problems linked to alcohol abuse.
Although it can be incredibly difficult to see otherwise, when it seems that everyone around you is consistently intoxicated on a regular basis, binge drinking doesn’t have to be the norm for everyone. By the time I reached my final year, I was living with three of my best friends, one of whom was a non-drinker. As such, group activities were rarely alcohol-centric, but the drinkers of our group never felt guilty for having one or two. And it turned out to be the best part of my Uni experience. Looking back, all the nights out in my first year followed the same monotonous routine; getting sloshed at pre-drinks, queuing for the club, dancing for a couple of hours to mediocre music until the effects of the booze wore off then heading home sweaty and tired, eating chips I didn’t really need or want and putting on a fair few pounds as a result. I wouldn’t speak to my mates all evening because I couldn’t hear them over the heavy bass, which was still ringing in my ears the next day. Conversely, I have crystal clear perception of the events that meant most to me because they were rarely shrouded by the cloud of alcohol which plagued my first year. Looking at the BBQs, picnics, games of sport, quiet nights in the pub and various other events where minimal amounts of alcohol was consumed was like seeing colour for the first time. Of course, there were still the occasional nights where I’d let loose and relieve some pressure from the trials and tribulations of final year. But on the whole, these were few and far between. Drinking was no longer the norm for me and the variety that replaced the dullness of drink was far more rewarding.
I am certainly not trying to say that alcohol is the root of all evil. Undeniably, some of the best experiences of my time at Uni were underpinned by having a few drinks with friends (and occasionally by getting totally blotto). And that was fine every once in a while. However, it was not the drinking that I enjoyed the most; it was the people I was with and the memories we were making which gave me true joy (someone pass me a sick bucket). However nauseating this might sound, I’m actually quite thankful for the culture of binge drinking for making me realise what aspects of University I really appreciated. Clearly, alcohol allows you to let off steam and relax, but you do not need extreme amounts of it to enjoy whatever it is you are doing. In fact, too much can ruin your night- just don’t let it ruin three years of what should be the best time of your life. No matter how much fun you’re having whilst totally plastered, there’s no point if you can’t remember it the next morning.
Written by Amy Iles
Hello there! I’m Amy, I graduated from studying Theatre and Performance Studies at The University of Bristol last July and have hung around the city ever since! I’m currently juggling several part-time jobs across teaching, hospitality work and workshop assisting as I grapple with graduate life. Alongside my everyday, I’m also striving to satisfy my passion for the Arts on the side as much as I can!