Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts

Wednesday, 26 February 2025

After interactive intoxication, comes social media moderation

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

Fellow imbibers, you know the feeling. The morning after the night before. 'OK, it was good fun but did I have to binge so much?'

When the hangover is particularly bad, the hair of the dog feels like the best, nay only cure. Or so we convince ourselves. And sometimes this does indeed do the trick, mentally at least. A few more doses of the poison that had done the initial damage, some rest and we're our regular selves again. Until the next time.

After interactive intoxication, comes social media moderation: Just like with alcohol, there really is no safe level of social media use. (Image shows a fusion of the logos of Facebook, Instagram, and X.)
It's all a blur: Just like with alcohol, there really is no safe level of social media use.

Sobering thought

Anecdotally speaking — and from the odd personal experience (I'm usually good at not going over my limit these days) — hangovers tend to be worse the older one gets, from roughly mid-30s onwards. Equally worse is the beer blues, that uncomfortable feeling of self-reproach, when one has drunk to excess.

What often follows is a determination to go sober for a time. Some manage to do this for weeks or even months, especially if their last booze session ended badly. Others kick the habit completely.

I wouldn't mind going months without beer. My problem — or my excuse, if you will — is my unsettled lifestyle together with the country I'm in. Drinking out in standard tiendas in Colombia is one of the cheapest socialising pursuits on offer.

So come 6 or 7 o'clock of an evening the temptation for some tienda-beer time is strong. If only there were decent, more readily available zero-alcohol brews in such tiendas. Would I drink them, though? Is it the alcohol-fuelled sensation I'm after or merely the social setting?
'Early social media use was like downing Jägerbombs in the nightclub following an already heavy evening in the pub. It usually led to sloppy public displays of affection or ill-advised encounters of the brutish kind.'
Whatever the case, I've been more conscious of my Colombian beer consumption of late and have tried to cut back. (Again, I say Colombia because the last time I was back in Ireland I quite easily went weeks without any alcohol. Largely for the price reason already mentioned, I find it harder to not drink in these parts. Also, in Ireland I tend to have more non-beer-related activities with which to occupy my time.)

In fairness, I've always had a love-hate relationship with drinking, yet I feel I'm now more sincere, if not too successful, in my efforts to drink less. That I've just entered my 40s plays a part in this, no doubt. I may be becoming slightly more sensible. That's the hope.

Meta monsters

I get the same vibe shift — to use the phrase of the current zeitgeist — in not only my relationship with social media but also that of many other people. It's like there's a collective middle-aged-style questioning of our online behaviour, particularly with what I consider to be the more bathetic and vain platforms, Facebook and Instagram.

(Those Meta monsters are akin to cheesy daytime TV, dealing in lifestyle affairs, albeit Instagram does have a worrying mild-porn side to it. Elon Musk's X is of the late-night, heated-political-debate variety, swinging from the astute to the absurd. In case you're wondering, I'm not on TikTok and have no intentions of doing so. Ditto with Bluesky.)

In the early days of interactive intoxication, the average Facebook/Instagram user i.e. one whose content-sharing is not done with the aim of generating income either directly or indirectly, went on a post blitz. This appears to have waned of late. Many are now adopting a more considered approach.

In revelling terms, social media use fifteen or so years ago was like downing Jägerbombs in the nightclub following an already heavy evening in the pub. It usually led to sloppy public displays of affection or ill-advised encounters of the brutish kind. Or sometimes both. These days, it's more in the style of a quiet drink or two at the local. A reserved affair.

I can imagine those who follow me on Facebook or Instagram reviewing my recent activity and thinking that I'm still in the blitz phase.

In my defence, the chief reason I continue to use social media is to share the content I create, hoping — in vain — to drive more traffic to my blog, as well as to my Spotify and YouTube channels.
'They get their kicks via different interactive engagements, similar to Ireland's Zoomers cosying up to cocaine as they down less alcohol.'
Even with posts that aren't directly linked to my online material, the idea is that more interaction is better than the opposite in this gig. Or, as I'm wont to say, it's better to be a known loser than an unknown one.

I know, I know, one can reasonably ask what's the point when, after over thirteen years, all my blogs, vlogs and podcasts haven't returned me even a penny in income. I could waste time on worse things, though, couldn't I? The other side to this, of course, is that I could spend my time on more wholesome pursuits.

Poisoned posting

What's more, alongside the changes in netizens' interactions with social media, the platforms themselves have evolved as both they and regulators try to find safer ways to operate. This evolution has further boosted the voice and influence of the haves while simultaneously weakening more so the role of the have-nots.

This is the exact opposite of the fanciful vision that Facebook et al. had at their inception. Aiming to empower the proles has merely resulted in giving greater power to the plutocrats. Plus ça change.

Added to this, the younger generations who grew up with social media are less hung-up about it all. In the same way that Gen Z — or Zoomers, as they're also called — in some high-income nations are drinking less alcohol compared to their predecessors, these younger folk are more inclined to be voyeurs rather than active participants on Facebook and Instagram.

This is not to say that theirs is a healthier way. It's just that they tend to get their kicks via different interactive engagements, similar to Ireland's Zoomers cosying up to cocaine as they down less alcohol. Or, more positively, as has been suggested elsewhere, they use Facebook less as a platform to share personal moments and to socialise virtually than as a source of gathering and sharing information via groups and suchlike.

So as we older generations rethink our relationship with social media, it needn't be a case of complete abstinence. Then again, just as health experts advise about alcohol, the safest amount of online socialising might be zero. And if forced to continue with just one of the two poisons, I'd opt for the liquid kind.
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Listen to The Corrigan Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

Thursday, 14 September 2023

'An alcoholic?! Me?! No way!'

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

A barrio acquaintance, one who is not only very fond of marijuana and the hip psychedelic tusi but has also been a petty peddler of same, called me an alcoholic the other day.

A case of, an outside observer might say, one addict knowing another.

'An alcoholic?! Me?! No way!'
One man's alcoholic is another's merely mild drinker, right?
However, seeing how this acquaintance, in her early 20s, has barely worked a day in her life — outside of her minor drug dealing — and usually appears more out of it than with it, I initially shrugged off her labelling me an alcoholic.

Yet, as an Irishman who likes the occasional beer that often leads to a questioning of my relationship with alcohol, her remark did end up bugging me a little.

'Am I an alcoholic?'

Habit addict

To answer that, we must define what an alcoholic is.

One dictionary definition describes an alcoholic as 'a person addicted to intoxicating drinks.' Another definition is 'somebody who drinks alcohol to excess habitually.'

Those definitions, however, in using words such as 'addicted', 'excess' and 'habitually', are open to much interpretation.

Some commentators and scholars on the subject dismiss the concept of addiction outright. They see it as a mere cover for one's failure to take responsibility.

According to this school of thought, it's not an innate, incurable addiction that's at play but rather a very fixable fixation. It's a harmful habit that can be replaced with a more beneficial — or at least less-bad — one. What's lacking is willpower, as well as any real desire to change in many instances.
'That four-day booze-free stint coincided with an annoying head cold. Was my body telling me something? A case of a beer a day keeps colds at bay?'
In other words, people know they're doing something that's not good for their overall well-being but they do it anyway. (Of course, few of us live vice-free — even exercise can become a problem if one overdoes it regularly. Some vices, though, are more damaging than others.)

Mild imbiber

Returning to our definitions of alcoholic, it's easier, at least officially, to find consensus for what excess and habitually mean.

In Ireland, a standard drink is defined as one which contains 10 grams of pure alcohol. The advice is that a man should drink no more than 17 such servings a week, a woman no more than 11.

If one drinks alcohol more days in a week than not, few would argue that this is habitual.

On that last one, despite publishing a few months ago a hopeful post, Abandoning the beer standard, I've been quite the habitual drinker of late.

The longest run I've had without a beer in 2023 has been four days, and that was on one occasion only. Frustratingly, that four-day booze-free stint coincided with an annoying head cold. Was my body telling me something? A case of a beer a day keeps colds at bay?

Plenty of downtime this year and not wanting to be in my shared accommodation for too long at any one time are two big reasons for this regular revelling, tame as it normally is.

What's more, as a pastime, sipping on a Barrio Santandercito tienda beer is a fairly economical activity compared to some other pursuits one could get up to in Bogotá.

As alluded to, in terms of excess, my consumption levels each time I drink are nothing like they were in the past.

Where previously when I would go at it, as we Irish say, I'd have at least four litres of Poker beer or the equivalent, these days I'm usually looking for the exit door after two or at most three. (Do note, Poker's alcohol by volume [ABV] is four per cent.)

So my binge-drinking days do appear to be largely behind me. Compared to other regular drinkers, I think it's fair to put me in the mild category. I'm certainly no Brendan Behan — no sniggering — who described himself as 'a drinker with a writing problem.' Some might say writing is my main problem and I should give that up!

Constant craving

Whatever the case, there is another factor to be considered: cravings.

This ties in with addiction, whether one believes addiction to be a genuine disease or not.

I surmise that people who I consider to be alcoholics crave alcohol, it's constantly in their thoughts. When they get up in the morning, if a beer or whatever was put in front of them, they'd have no issue downing it. What usually prevents such types from doing so is a job commitment or suchlike.

I, on the other hand, rarely if ever desire an alcoholic drink first thing. For me, imbibing has a time and a place — the time is normally late in the evening, the place is a tienda/public house, certainly not my own dwelling.

And as I've already pointed out, I'm more than content to retire to my bed after a couple of litres. Where perhaps in my earlier drinking days I suffered from fomo, fear of missing out, these days I'm more in the jomo, joy of missing out, camp.

So, yes, I do like beer and I may regularly drink more units of alcohol per week than most health experts recommend.

Nonetheless, life in my late 30s doesn't revolve around the next alcohol-fuelled session like it did to some extent in my 20s and early 30s.

Of course, how I feel and what I believe is one thing. How others view me is another. Perception is reality in this regard. Yet, it's only the perceptions and opinions of certain people in my life that I should really value. Others are best ignored.
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Listen to The Corrigan Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

Friday, 9 September 2022

Hooked on the BBC (or CCP, if you will)

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

It's often how it goes. A person overcomes one addiction then another, for better or for worse, comes along to fill the void. (For background, see Coming clean on my Colombian.)

Hooked on the BBC (or CCP, if you will)
Just can't enough of that good old BBC ...

China in my hand

To be truly accurate — as I always strive to be — my current BBC addiction isn't actually new. I more than dabbled in it in my Ireland days. It's just that it has become particularly acute here in Colombia.

I think I'd find it very hard to live in the country, or Bogotá at least, without it. Be it work or pleasure, this BBC or, for those of another tongue, CCP fix has become a cornerstone of pretty much everything I do.

Now some people would say it's not the worst addiction in the world to have, as long as one doesn't rely on it solely. And I don't. I do balance it out.

Nevertheless, one could always do better when it comes to such things. Indeed, a good test to see how reliant — perhaps harmfully so — one has become on something is to try to do without it. On this score, well just the mere thoughts of doing without the BBC for any protracted period make me uncomfortable (protracted in this sense is in the region of 48 hours).

You see the BBC — Beer, Bread and Coffee, or its Spanish equivalent for where I'm based and following alphabetical order, CCP (Café, Cerveza y Pan), not to be confused with the Chinese Communist Party — is a staple for me.
'Some say it's the only time Colombian bread from a standard panadería is edible, when it's still warm from baking.'
It's the bread and coffee part in particular that I can't see myself easily giving up — if there was a desire to do so, that is. The beer, on the other hand, well unlike the other two, it's not a daily delight.

I also think that in the right circumstances and/or environment i.e. having my own comfortable accommodation and not living in Bogotá, I could relatively easily get by without beer. Or at least drink less. Going without bread and coffee is another thing altogether.

This is the problem — some may not view it as a problem per se — when one uses a panadería/bakery as an office on a daily basis. It's like an alcoholic going to work in a pub.

OK, a good coffee or three a day may, as some studies have shown, do more good than harm to one's overall health. The same can't really be said for the bread on the side, not the majority of bread baked in Colombia in any case. (Dr Pradeep Jamnadas wouldn't be impressed.)
'There are, however, worse addictions to have, such as CNN.'
Yet, the floured fusions are hard to resist, especially so when they've just come hot out of the oven.

In fact, some say it's the only time Colombian bread from a standard panadería is edible, when it's still warm from baking. After a day or so, regardless of the type really, it seems to become fairly bland. (Although, worryingly so as it suggests the bread is pumped with preservatives, it doesn't tend to mould.) Similar to some women I've dated here, it could be said.

'I can't believe it's not coffee!'

Regarding my daily coffee, the quality of it in my current "office" is, as far as I'm concerned, as good as you'll get in some of the more renowned establishments. Snootier types, however, might turn their noses up at it. There's an assumption, based on a long history of this being the case in fairness, that panadería coffee is ordinary at best.
Colombia's grecas are great at producing I-can't-believe-it's-not-coffee coffee.
The greca: Wanted for crimes against good coffee. (Image from https://laferiadelagreca.com.)
Thankfully, though, a good number of panaderías have embraced machine brewers, consigning those metal grecas with their tendency to produce tasteless, I-can't-believe-it's-not-coffee coffee to the scrapyard. (Personally, this has become more important over the last few years as my brew preferences have changed. It's no longer an 80/20 coffee/milk split, it's more like 99/1. Thus, the coffee has to be flavoursome and strong.)

As for the beer, well Poker — or on occasions Águila or Costeña or, when in Paisa land, Pilsen (they're all pretty much the same) — could win awards for being one of the best and reasonably priced mediocre lagers around. It humbly does its job.

In this regard, like the BBC media group and the political CCP my BBC — the beer and bread anyway — is of ordinary quality. Perhaps not the greatest but not the worst either.

It's also killing me softly, no doubt. Sure aren't we on the countdown to death from the moment we're born anyway?

There are, however, worse addictions to have.

With CNN — cocaine, noodles and Nutella — for instance, one is left brain-dead within days. That diet combination may seem nonsensical. But that's CNN for you.
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Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".