Staying sober in a country that has a drinking problem

I have a drinking problem. After a few years of living in denial, I’m finally ready to admit that.

In 2019, I went to see a psychiatrist. Not because I thought that I’m an alcoholic. 2019 was a difficult and dark year for me. I was struggling with my life, work, relationships. I experienced severe anxiety, felt inadequate, considered harming myself. I’ve reached a point where I just needed help.

Once I was diagnosed with depression, the doctor asked me one vital question:

So tell me, what’s your relationship with alcohol?

And after hearing it, I needed to take a few minutes to think.

You see, being asked about your drinking habits isn’t something common in an ex-communist country. Alcohol has grown into our daily life so much that no one really questions its presence. It’s just there. And — although it shouldn’t be considered normal — it’s been socially normalized, even glorified.

So even though I can now openly say that I have a drinking problem and that I’ve been sober for almost 2 years now, my country isn’t ready to do so.

Social obligations

Every minor and major life event has to be celebrated with booze. Whether it’s a raise, a layoff, a wedding, a funeral, a sunny day, or a rainy day — you just drink. Alone, with your partner, with friends, with family.

The issue is, you’re socially obliged to drink.

Hosting a “sober” party is considered strange here. For example, inviting your friends and family to an alcohol-free wedding may result in mocking and verbal aggression (“You must be out of your mind, there’s no wedding without vodka”, “So we’re supposed to come there, get you a wedding gift, and you won’t even provide us with alcohol in return? Are you stupid?”), incomprehension (“So what are we supposed to do at the wedding? Sit and mourn?”), exclusion (“If there’s no booze, I’m not going”).

The funny thing is, alcohol isn’t limited to adult parties only. It’s pretty common that grown-ups drink during their child’s birthday party or first communion celebratory dinner.
Kids are also being socially “encouraged” and assimilated with drinking from a very young age. They want to behave and act just like grown-ups do, and they are used to seeing their parents celebrating life events with alcohol.

In the ’90s, one of the Polish alcohol manufacturers came up with the idea of Piccolo — a non-alcoholic, fizzy beverage for children that resembles champagne. Basically, it’s a fruity soda in a big glass bottle, with a cork that pops when opened. Full champagne experience for the little ones. Every cool kid needs to have it at their birthday party to impress their friends, and the parents don’t see any harm in it — it isn’t alcohol, anyway, so what’s the deal?

Not drinking is unacceptable

Whenever you say that you don’t drink, you are instantly countered with a demand for an explanation. You always need to explain yourself to the person you’re talking to, and they will almost always ask you these one or both of the follow-up questions:

• “Are you pregnant?” (if you’re a woman),
• “Are you sick/on meds?” (if you’re not a woman or replied “no” to the previous question”).

The funny thing is, these are the only questions you’re being asked, the only two acceptable reasons for why you’re not drinking. Otherwise, you’ll hear “But hey, one drink won’t do you any harm”.

In vino veritas

As a linguist, I’m also amazed by the impact that alcohol made on our language. There are a few seemingly innocent widespread questions and phrases in Polish that have grown into our everyday conversations and are supposed to “get you back on track,” encourage you to drink, for example:

• “So you won’t drink with me?”
• “We simply must drink to that!”
• “We need to grab a beer together.”
• “Let’s discuss this over a glass of something stronger.”
• “Let’s drink, or else we will fall asleep.”
• “At last, you’re finally here! Now you need a penalty drink to make up for your late arrival!”
• “Oh, you’re going? Let’s drink one for the road!”

It’s really difficult to say “no” to these — otherwise, you’re either offending someone or getting yourself excluded from your peers. At the same time, there are virtually no counter-phrases to defend yourself with if you don’t want to drink.

You’re alone in this battle

When you’re an alcoholic in remission, it’s vital for your therapy to stay away from alcohol in any form. Most programs like AA and 12-steps recommend that you shouldn’t see the people that you’ve been drinking with or go to places that you used to get hammered prior to your diagnosis.

But it’s difficult to do so, mostly because everyone around you is drinking. Only about 25% of Polish women and 10% of Polish men declare that they haven’t drunk any alcoholic beverage within the past year. So when you’re in remission, you’d have to avoid 80% of your friends.

Avoiding places that sell liquor is also tricky. Alcohol is sold pretty much everywhere. We’re one of a few European countries that have 24/7 liquor stores and that sells alcohol in pretty much every single gas station. It’s a phenomenon, but at the same time introducing any bans and prohibition in this matter would most likely cause country-wide riots.

The only thing you can do is… to adjust. To have a strong will. To be ready to fight battles every day.

And trust me, it’s truly difficult. Even now, at this very moment, I’m writing this article in English — and not Polish, which is my native language. Why? Because I’m afraid of what my relatives (most of which don’t speak English) would think of me. Would they feel ashamed of me? Or, perhaps, they would feel guilty that the alcohol abuse at home affected me as well?

Your government wants you to drink more

In 2020, Polish citizens spent about $10,5 billion on alcohol. Statistical Pole consumes about 11 liters of pure alcohol each year.

About 3 million Poles drink a “małpka” (100ml-200ml bottle of vodka or other strong liquor) every day, and about 0,6 million buys at least two “małpkas” daily.

Excise tax revenue from alcoholic beverages amounted to about $2.7 billion in 2020, not including VAT.

Only 0,08% of the expenses for healthcare budgeted by the Polish government are being spent on alcoholism prevention programs.

Polish drunk drivers caused about 9% (2 717) of all car accidents in 2019 that resulted in 326 deaths and 3081 people injured, and the police stopped over 111'000 drivers for DUI.
26% of the domestic abuse reports in our country mention the abuser’s drinking problem.