I had my first taste of alcohol one night in early 2004. My then-wife and I had realized Mormonism was a fraud a couple of months earlier, and curious about the popular substance we had never tried, we decided one night to buy a bottle of Satan juice.

I drove down to the local liquor store and walked in. It was bewildering. I knew what beer and wine were, of course, but I didn't know anything about the different kinds of each, or what any of the other types of alcohol were. I was embarrassed to ask the guy what to buy, so I just finally grabbed a bottle of what looked like red wine and went home.

It turned out to be some weird cooking port or sherry or something, and it was horrific. My wife and I looked at each other, and couldn't believe that we used to think that people would leave "the one true church" just to drink something so terrible. We poured it down the drain.

But a little while later, I tried beer, and it was okay. I tried a very nice red wine a few months later along with my gigantic restaurant steak one night in Toronto - and yeah, that was pretty nice. I could finally see what all the fuss was about, even though I can't say I was really all that taken with the stuff.

I drank only rarely for the next year or so. Sometimes when we'd go out, I'd try something on tap from the local brewery. It was okay, but no biggie.

But I jumped onstage one night at a pub to play covers with friends of mine in a local band, and the pub server started bringing over complimentary glasses of Stella Artois. Over the course of a set, I downed a couple, and got just a bit buzzed. To my surprise, the Stella turned out to be a real "experience enhancer". The music seemed to sink in more, I seemed able to kind of vibe with the crowd more, and everything just seemed more fun. So, now emboldened, I threw back three more glasses in the last set. Toward the end, the pub server brought over a big glass of white wine, which (now made fearless by the Stella), I threw back with gusto. Two minutes later, an invisible giant smashed me in the head with a giant bat - I went from a pleasant buzz to blurry dizziness and nausea in, literally, an instant. I could barely stand. (I was informed later one should not mix beer and wine).

A friend drove me home where I crashed into bed, still sick. I was quite careful after that, and didn't drink much at all until one night in the summer of 2008. My then-wife had just returned home from a solo three week trip to England which, shall we say, I discovered hadn't gone the way I would have liked.

Half of me wanted to find some way to keep our marriage together; the other half of me couldn't imagine getting past yet another "event". All torn up, I came up with the daft idea of us going out to a local dance place/pub. Maybe, I thought, there was something wrong with me. Maybe it was that I never wanted to go out to clubs dancing, and she always wanted to. I hated the trashy music, hated the trashy people, hated the thought of dancing...but maybe, I thought now (in my state of temporary insanity), if I could only bring myself to dance, somehow, miraculously, things might suddenly get better. But for that, I would need more Satan juice.

We went out, and I started slamming Strongbow ciders. You know - lower the inhibitions and all. Well...I guess I didn't pace myself very well, because before I knew it, I was nearly under the table. There was no dancing that night; only another passenger ride home.

In the end, I realized there was no way back for our once-fantastic marriage, so that ended any vestige of hope for "miracles through alcohol".

There wasn't much booze in my life until a couple of years later. Devastated by all that had happened in my marriage, I had thrown myself, in a frenzy of post-Mormon post-break-up nihilism, into playing rugby. I trained and worked out six days a week, often more than once a day. Rugby requires a wide and complex suite of physical and cognitive skills as well as sheer power; it was a big challenge. But finally, I got to the point where I felt completely comfortable and confident in games. I even found myself playing with and against guys on the national team. It was a big thrill.

Beer has always served as a special sacrament to rugby players, but was confined to post-game celebrations with the other team. But, now infused with confidence, excited by my achievement, and increasingly consumed with a pulsing lust for battle, I thought back to my experience onstage at the pub that night, and decided that slamming a brewski right BEFORE the game would similarly enhance my on-field rugby experience.

Sure enough, it did. My God, did it ever. Wow. I have to be honest - playing in a rugby game was already mindblowing enough, but (literally) hopped up on a can or two of Lucky lager (the cheapest, nastiest swill out there), the whole experience was WAY better: more insanity, more violence, more speed, more laughs, more courage, more daring, and oddly enough, better performance (yes, beer was a peformance enhancing drug).

I had already developed a series of rituals before my sacred rugby games - ceremonial washing, etc. - but now, slamming a Lucky or two right before running out on to the pitch became a brand new ritual amongst rituals - maybe the most important one of all. So before each game, I'd get all taped up and everything, have a moment of quiet meditation (in which I would commune with the rugby gods and envision what was about to occur) and then soak myself in the shower (cleats, jersey and all), then slam a Lucky or two, and then run out on to the pitch. Within a few minutes of the game starting, I'd be covered in a beautifully grotesque slime of sweat, mud, cheap beer residue, shower water, grass, mucus, and often, blood. It wasn't Mormonism, and it wasn't my old marriage - but in so many ways, it was so much better.

I kept my beer ritual going, game after game, and even started throwing cans over to the other guys in the locker room before they ran out. It was weird - I'd gone from teetotal, straight arrow, true believing Mormon, to a crazed, newly muscled nihilist, recovering from heartbreak, living out an insane Viking fantasy, fueled by a volcanic mixture of testosterone, adrenaline, creatine, and now, cheap beer. It was awesome. And besides, what else was there to do?

The rugby club administrators finally heard that I'd started passing beer out to guys BEFORE the games, and sent a circular email around explaining that it was "inappropriate" to include drinking in our pre-game warm-ups. (I disagreed, but like any good warrior, I respected my generals). So that ended that. And eventually, crushing injuries ended my rugby career, but at least I still have the beer.

Now, I drink every once in a while with my new Love Goddess. It's nice with a meal, or to enhance bedroom trips to Kolob. And while I know there are some joys unique to Mormonism, I think Mormons are really missing out with this whole temperance thing. Jesus himself drank, remember, as did Joseph Smith - how bad can it really be?

I'm not promoting alcoholism or anything; just saying, the devil's brew is a great "experience enhancer" every once in a while.

Just my two cents. Feel free to post your own adventures in alcohol below.



Edited 3 time(s). Last edit at 05/02/2015 12:57AM by Tal Bachman.

I was about to post on the "obligatory thread What are YOU drinking this Friday evening?" I can't seem to get past the gasoline taste of alcohol. The fruity, sweet stuff, and very little of it, is all I can manage. I have never been drunk. My friends make fun of me. I think I'm missing out on some 'rite of passage' somehow.

If you want to try it, get a few close friends and stay overnight in one location where you can giggle loudly...

Muscato or Riesling wine (sweet). Try sipping a few glasses and wait half an hour. You don't want to feel sick... Drink a glass of water for each glass of wine. Don't mix types of alcohol.

Some people get headaches with red wine... If you do go out, be careful. Guys can easily slip stuff into a drink. Take a designated driver, or chip in on a limo or taxi.

Some people get funny, or think they're funny, some get reserved and introspective. Some get angry or bitchy or pick fights, some start stripping...

Be safe! =)

Try a white wine sprizter.

My story's almost exactly the same, but it was chess instead of rugby.

Why? It shows me another side of you. Novice drinking/getting drunk is almost always disastrous, whether you're 15 or 40.

A drinking story, so many to choose from, I don't know which, so I'll go with a Mormon specific one.

When my ex-husband and I first moved in together, we lived in an apartment complex across from the wardhouse I spent much of my youth in. Yes, it was surreal seeing all those cars on Sundays and early school mornings, not to mention other events. This was around the time I had found this site and realized I *could* resign instead of forcing the patriarchal dicks to excommunicate me.

Exhub and I used to throw some spectacularly fun parties complete with all sorts of colourful characters- musicians, goths, punks, artists, pros, strippers, practitioners of martial arts, and all around weirdos; Interesting, amusing times.

One evening, I didn't know my limit and kept on the sauce which topped me instead. After most of the guests had left, I proclaimed to my close friends, "Let's ALL go skinny dipping in Broadmoor Lake! Yeah!" So we decided to start walking across the church parking lot and traipse 3 or 4 miles away, wasted.

We got as far as the green sidecurb before I started losing my balance and punishing the ground with my extra hard head. After much discussion and reasoning, my friends convinced me why we couldn't go skinny dipping in Broadmoor Lake, so we headed back through the parking lot. Besides, I had to pee.

Suddenly I stopped, starred at the church door I often entered in my adolescent years, threw up the bird and yelled, "FUCK YOU, CHURCH!!! Fuck you for ruining my life!" Then promptly did a full faceplant on the pavement.
My friends managed to get me home which resulted in another entirely insane spectacle that I choose not to disclose right now.

Booze.

I whined about wanting Angelina Jolie lips earlier in the evening and got my wish for a few days.

My first experience with beer was at age 16. Have driver's licence, will party. So I get passed a glass of what I thought was ginger ale....but it tasted...well, NOT like anything else in my limited experience. I tried it again a couple weeks later and it was more enjoyable. I expanded my research to include rum, whiskey, vodka and wine. Quit once for a month in my quest to be worthy to be ordained an elder. I BS'd my way into getting than done and went back to partying forthwith. As my years have advanced I have developed into a craft beer lover, with quality trumping quantity and now includes single malt scotch. My dear wife has also developed a taste for "a wee dram" now and then, good vodka and Guinness. Life is good.

Ron Burr

Ex-Mormons are like little kids, experimenting with adult concepts for the first time in their lives -- in their 30s, 40s or older.

My first adventure with booze was in an off-campus apartment at the Lard's university in Provo. I drank almost an entire bottle of cooking sherry and ended up throwing up on the kitchen floor. My male friend promptly made me clean it up. That was a real thrill.

Even after leaving the church shortly after graduation I could never get comfortable with drinking alcohol. I drink maybe one glass of wine for Christmas and an occasional beer at a bbq.

I still kick myself for being so resistant to relaxing and letting myself go around booze. I want to drink and enjoy but I am somehow afraid of losing control. I don't know how to give myself permission to drink without the Mormon guilt creeping in.

My present never-mo husband has been clean and sober for 15 years. His sister died of alcoholism and left behind teenage children. Much of his family is ravaged by the disease and I respect DH mightily for his continued sobriety.

Out of respect, I rarely drink in front of DH even though he wouldn't say anything or put a guilt trip on me. About two weeks ago one Saturday when I was alone, I did allow myself a very nice mixed drink from a mini-bottle I've had in the cupboard for 3 years that I use to flavor Christmas cookies.

That drink was enjoyable and so very relaxing. It gave me a good feeling. But I still felt terribly guilty and in a way the guilt is a buzz-kill.

I wish I could learn to relax around booze. Pathetically in a couple of years I will be 60 and it sucks that at this age I can't shed the good-girl attitude.



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 05/02/2015 12:26PM by Senoritalamanita.

That was as straight up as a whiskey no chaser. Damn, that was good.

I can relate to the musical part of your story Tal. I like to have a beer before getting up on stage in front of a crowd. It calms me down and lets me settle into the music better. And if the club is really packed and full of a lot of energy, I might even have a shot of Jager just to turn any anxious energy into ‘confident tallness’ (Yes, Jager makes you tall.)

However, I’ve noticed in myself, and mostly by observing others, that if it goes even just a little too far, even to the point of having a noticeable buzz, then I find the music actually tends to suffer a little (even if it doesn’t feel that way in the moment.) People miss cues, or nurdle solo’s, or drummers get sloppy and drag. So, I always keep it moderate myself, so that it never crosses that line. Although, I’ve seen lots of guys who definitely thought they were playing better when they got really drunk, but I’ve noticed that alcohol impairs motor function and cognitive clarity to much to be of any help for music once you’ve had a little too much of it. But a little bit is just right.

Regarding getting into the zone for music, I’m amazed to even hear of a musician who doesn’t use that other common ‘experience enhancer’ when playing music. So don’t ever try it, we’ll lose you forever and you’ll never come back. Nothing beats stepping out behind the club with the boys and standing in a circle for a few minutes before picking up the axes on stage. It’s an even better musical vibe enhancer, without all the loss of motor function. But, like I say, maybe it’s best to just stay away from that altogether. Once through the gates of hell, it’s awful hard to walk back out again. Why would you, when you’re having so much fun?

Thanks for your post Tal, I enjoyed it.

Some funny stuff here lol

Tortured - no, I'll never get into drugs. Most I ever have to drink per night is maybe a couple of Strongbows or something, but I don't really drink all that often.

Alcohol, pot, religion.

We humans like, even need, to escape or soften reality, this "harsh, cold hotel room."

I think most people on this board have moderate escapes, preferring reality. The full-blown drunkenness of moism didn't sit well in their souls.


An aside -

You may not consider alcohol to be a drug, primarily because the State Elders have deemed it permissible.

I wouldn't be terribly surprised to find large sums of alcohol money behind the prohibition of pot. Religious lobbying about it is evident, and so self-righteous; they lost against alcohol, but still fight "the good fight."

Bottoms up!

A friend just sold her business here in Oregon. It is being remodeled by the new owner, opening next month as a pot dispenser (like the "pot shops" in WA). I haven't seen any picketing or a peep from the fundies.

"The good fight" being, to maintain prohibition within their flocks, in no uncertain terms.

Yes, alcohol is obviously a drug. Surprisingly, an addictions counselor can tell you that so can runners high or sex be considered a potentially addictive drug, among many other things.

It’s well established that pot is a far more benign drug socially than alcohol is. Alcohol leads to far more violence, broken homes, car accidents, waking up next to people and saying, ‘WTF!’ Alcohol is also physically addictive; the other isn't (just psychologically addictive.) I’ve always actually thought the reason the fascists hate pot so much is because it makes people passive, and they don’t want a bunch of Martin Luther Kings walking around seeing through the ‘big lie.’

It’s funny with me, because I actually don’t even keep booze or any other intoxicants around my house, or use them at home at all. I only ever imbibe (very moderately) when I’m playing music. I guess I just don’t see the point in feeling that way around the house; it’s just how it evolved in me over my life. It won’t be long before I’m at another gig, so I just save it for there (where it’s usually free as well.) Ok, maybe at Christmas, or sometimes a cold beer on a hot summer day after mowing the lawn can be refreshing.

For the most part, I guess you could say I only drink while I’m at work. (LOL)

We roll tonight to the guitar bite …
… and for those about to rock, we salute you !

But somehow I can't believe, that anything should happen.

"But somehow I can't believe, that anything should happen."

Because Tal was so high-ee-igh-igh? :-)

For those that can handle drink, I say drink but be careful. Personally I can't handled it so I stay away from it. It is often hard to recognize when you have a problem with alcohol, but when you realize you need help, it is out there. Only the one affected can really know when they are ready to seek a way to handle their problem with drink. Good luck!

I like sweet red wine (can't stand the white type) and strong dark beer.Having a menthol cig after 3 or 4 beers is awesome, the closest I ever got of being "stoned".

I left mormonism back in 2009 and have tried over 200 different beers ever since. Just trying to make up for those wasted years ;)

Before my parents became Mormons, I was allowed to take a sip of my father's lager.

Fast forward several years to a field in Somerset (same field as where the famous Glastonbury Festival takes place) and I was given some very rough genuine farm scrumpy to try.

I felt reality take a shift to one side. Yikes!

What the hell is scrumpy?

Scrumpy is an English-style of homemade hard cider.

I have a neighbor that makes homemade brews from his orchard. I really enjoy his pear, peach, and strawberry ales. He also makes a fantastic pressed apple cider by combining different apple varieties. This next harvest season he's promised to help me set up my own brewery to make my own orchard brews.

That reminds me of one of my not so finer moments.

I was 18, parents and I had just moved to their new ranch out in country. We went to the local country dance for the first time at the hall at the end of the road. Fun times. The crazy hillbilly guy who lived over the hill from our place (the guy who lived with his pigs roaming in and out of his little cabin, he was a character for sure), he brought some of his homemade potato peel moonshine with him. Some drinks were spiked in the parking lot. He warned not to shake the bottle too hard, it might blow up. I went blind a little while later.

I was driven home and put to bed with a bucket. Later my brother was yelling at me that I really needed to come with him and get back to bed. I said leave me alone, I am in bed. He said no, you’re lying in a snow bank in your underwear, now come on, get in the dam house and go to bed. Don’t remember too much more after that, but I did live.

Good times. (Not!) Stay away from potato peel moonshine. Blech! That's my off the deep end story.

Yipes! You were nearly killed by Mr. Potato Head!

I know someone who woke up the next morning in a planter (window box) three floors up in a Mexican hotel. He also woke up in a Mexican jail...

I've been at wild bachelorlette parties dancing in Newport Beach... lots of free watermelon shooters would magically appear from hopeful men... Limo, no driving or leaving the group.

Newbies should be aware of Jello shots. They seem harmless, but that's a different type of "Relief Society" Jello.

Yes, me and Mr. Potato Head reached an understanding that night.

The scary part was, it really took very little of that stuff to get me that way. I think I’d had a couple of beers earlier and then probably just had two stiffly poured ‘Mr. Potato Heads’ with orange juice, while a group of us guys hung out in the parking lot. Then I remember going in and having another beer. Then I don’t remember, period. And that was it … your dead (or nearly, anyway.)

But what do you expect when you drink what probably amounts to the equivalent of half a cup of isopropyl rubbing alcohol. We laughed at him when he said it could blow up, but he made a guy with a cigarette stand away. He said it literally would explode.

Stupid kids. Oh wait, that was me.

I think I was only ever drunk-drunk again a couple more times in my life (in the normal, not should have been in a hospital, way) before I finally figured out by my mid twenties that being wasted is not really very fun at all, and I haven’t ever been ‘hosed’ since.

For me, just get a buzz and that’s it. Or even one beer without a buzz, like when I play gigs. You don’t even need to feel it. It’s still in there, its still relaxing you a little. And careful newbies of any of the hard alcohols, it doesn’t take much. And once you feel pretty silly and notice it, too much more and you’ll puke in about an hour. And once you feel like maybe you’ve had way too much, it’s too late. It keeps entering your bloodstream from your stomach long after you stop, and guess what, your going to puke. And Mr. Potato Head, don’t even talk to him. He’s crazy. That’s my pep talk.

Now, where's those jello shooters at? I want one!

I like what Gray Matter wrote!

Yes, leaving Mormonism in adulthood was a lot like enjoying a second adolescence. I tried wine, and Kailua, and some other alcoholic concoctions that were supposed to be fun and delicious.

It was NOT an "adventure", by any interpretation. Alcohol is a depressant, and I always responded to it by sitting in a corner, not moving, and staring into space. No adventure, there. No stories to tell.

Sitting in a mild stupor, I miss the lively conversations, interactions with friends, meeting new people, music and dancing, and all the things that alcohol is reported to bring into your life. How boring for myself and for others around me.

I might as well just go home and sleep, so I can wake up feeling good the next morning for work, tennis, skiing, cleaning house, pruning trees--anything is better alcohol and drug-free. At lease, for the body I'm living in.

I was an adult convert and had a lot of experience with alcohol before joining the church. In the process of leaving the church, I started having alcoholic drinks again and was so happy to enjoy adult beverages once more.

In the non-Mo community drinking is not a big deal unless somebody is an alcoholic and it's affecting his/her life in a negative way. Most people, in my experience, live their lives, throw back a few on the weekends and don't over-do it.

But then, I live in Pennsylvania, not Utah.

Oy, lucky me.

When I was in 8th grade I had a nevermo friend that was very worldly. Her life fascinated me.

I spent the night with her one time when her parents were out. She made me a fabulous margarita. We had two of them, made from the finest tequila. We spent the evening dancing and listening to Elvis.

The next time I drank I was probably about 15. I had a nevermo boyfriend who came from a very well traveled and sophisticated family. I was at his house one evening at dinner time. They had a huge old fashioned fireplace that had a swing in pot. they built a big fire that died down to coals. They placed oysters on the coals until they popped open. We downed them with butter and a fabulous white wine. I'd never experienced anything like that in my life. I was hooked! It was one of several fabulous food and drink experiences I had with his family. It was through them that I learned how to live and entertain in a very classy and wonderful way. As long as I live i'll always remember my time with them.

This same boyfriend and I would skip school and go to the local park to go fishing in the river. We'd catch a salmon and then cook it over a campfire. Of course it would be accompanied by a nice wine and the best french bread that he brought with him (I think his mother made it). We would eat pomegranates or papaya with lime juice for desert. I was madly in love with this guy!

It wasn't until I married a mormon guy that I was introduced to absolutely horrid cheap alcohol. He had a total of 36 months of my life before I kicked him to the curb.

Now in my senior years i'm an exmo. I knew right where to go when it came to alcohol. No excess, drink good quality alcohol, and don't over do it. It's for enjoyment, not to make you puke on the floor (I've done that too).

My favorite thing to do is go to a fabulous restaurant, have great food, great wine or cocktails with your meal. Finish with a few bites of a fabulous (shared) great desert. Who could ask for more? I don't do this often because it's expensive. My kids and hubby always know what to do for special occasions though. It's a win every time!

What happened to the boyfriend?



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/03/2015 02:45AM by DebbiePA.

Haha! You'll never guess!

We broke up our senior year after two years as a "couple".

After I divorced mr. RM, I started dating my old HS love again.

Sadly, the magic was gone. I think we both tried to make it work, but it just didn't.

I have to tell this part of the story:
We ran into each other again when we were 22. It just so happened by a freak of nature that he was dating a lady who lived in an apartment directly above mine.

I didn't know this until I looked out of my bedroom window and saw him getting out of his car and going upstairs one day. Turns out they were just breaking up.

Needless to say, it was a bit uncomfortable having his old girlfriend living literally over my head! How weird is that?

So, everyone is asking, why not go to his place? Turns out that home was so wonderful he hadn't left yet. Still living with mom and dad. That bothered me. Also, he seemed stalled in life. He ha every opportunity a person could have but didn't take advantage of it. He was a grocery checker that never went to college. Hmmm.

Turns out I dodged a bullet. Sweet HS memories, but he never did pick it up and grow up. He's now in his mid 60's and still lives in the same house with his mother. Damn that house has an incredible fireplace! Sweet guy, but just couldn't ever leave his mother.

We used to have a drink or two every night, that is, until I added up how much the two of us were spending on alcohol.

We enjoy taste testing a variety of labels. Often, that comes with a hefty price tag. I figured $5000 a year was a conservative cost estimate for our drinking habit. That number does not include drinks while dining out.

Needless to say, we have cut way back on the drinking.

Ah, the first time I got shitfaced was when I was 12. Me and my friends got some guy outside a convince store to by beer for us. Unbelievable when I think that we got an adult to do this. And the end of the festivities we weaved our way home on stingrays DUI. Dropped my trusty bike on the lawn, staggered in and said goodnight to my parents. Well, my dad being a non-member retired Navy officer took one look at me and The jig was up. He sent me to bed. The next day was not my best day. Even so, I did have context to work from in learning about alcohol use as I grew up around gatherings where adults drank. Some responsibly, some not so much. I learned early on what a sloppy drunk looked like to others and other consequence they experienced.

Growing up in a state where the drinking age was 18 opened up many times of reckless abandon and by the time I was 17 I'd had a fair amount of experience making choices, good and bad, in drinking. It was a bit out of hand and I decided to dial it back. Going to BYU was part of my 17 year old strategy for this. Well, back then at BYU 'people of like mindedness' seemed to find each other and much merriment was available. So much for my 'righteous' plans.

So why is this relevant? What surprised me at BYU was how all these 18 to 20 something's, who had little or no experience with alcohol, partook and behaved like I did when I was in junior high. They simply did know stuff, like when to take someone's car keys away, to keep them and their friends from a bad case of the stupid's. And as an 'over 18 person' there were real consequences. But, the football team parties and such - the McMahon days - were quite fun.

Now, as for a favorite drink to try. One of my nevermo BYU roommates introduced me to Ozou. Very nice.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/03/2015 10:39PM by mannaz.

I had a similar youth to you as well. I was glad I knew the ropes by time I was 18. That's exactly why I was out trying that moonshine I spoke of earlier. I just goofed because I'd never had it before, and I had too much before I even felt it yet (who knew?)

Ozo ... mmm, high school memories. Yes, I think it's safer to learn a little early on when you’re younger. Frankly, less consequences. But, some people will feel that's an issue. But by time I was an adult, I too knew how to drink, and how to take care of others around me too. I’ve shared a little (a little) with my teenage daughter so she could see the effects. I did this so she doesn’t wind up heading out of town on the back of a harley by accident while drinking for the first time as an adult. She's been exposed in a safe environment (of course I didn't get her shitfaced loaded, just enough to know, to see how it creeps up on you, etc.)

I came from a liberal family too, and got to see (and experience) drinking before I was an adult. It has it's merits.

Haha, I even remember getting an adult to bootleg for us as junior high kids too. Your right, who'd does that? Hell, it was the seventies I guess.

I liked your post. Very honest.