I Think Drunk Texting Is Ruining My Life

I Think Drunk Texting Is Ruining My Life

For the past three and a half years of my college career, I’ve been trying to figure out what it is about myself that repels overwhelms guys. I’m pretty, and funny, and smart — all things you’d think a beer-guzzling, 21-year-old frat boy would be looking for in the opposite sex. But, as my last semester as a college student is coming to a close, I’ve begun to realize what my problem is.

Alcohol. More specifically, a combination of alcohol and my phone.

Every time I go out, I drink to excess, and every time I drink to excess, I make terrible decisions…on my phone. Whether I decide to drunk text my hookup buddy and ask what he’s doing, send Snapchats that I’ll never even be able to regret because I can’t remember what I sent, or make completely inappropriate phone calls, I can never have a successful, drunk phone free night.

I don’t understand what it is in my DNA that tells me it’s okay to text my ex’s best friend from back home and confess I’m still in love with him. Or why I feel the need to Snapchat every. single. person on my friend list a video of me and my blacked out roommates singing and eating (with at least one of them probably naked). I know the 11-year-old girl I babysat for over the summer, my mother, and the next door neighbors that we only use for alcohol and eggs do NOT want to see that.

But time after time, blackout after blackout, I make the same ridiculous decision to use my phone when I’m out. And the worst part? You guessed it – reliving my drunken decisions the next morning when I open my phone.

“Wow you’re so lucky you didn’t wake me up when you called me twelve times last night.”


You know that feeling you get in your stomach when you find out something you didn’t want to know? I have that feeling every Thursday-Sunday morning. You would think it would get easier each time I reach for my phone in the morning, but it doesn’t.

When I finally build enough courage to open the rest of my text messages, I quickly learn how drunk I really was the night before. Without even opening them, I begin to delete text thread after text thread. But the names of those threads will haunt me the rest of the day.

Why would I text him? What could I possibly even have to say? No, I don’t want to know.
As horrifying thoughts of all of the possible definitely embarrassing texts run through my head, I open the text between my roommate and me.

Me at 12:51: “Are you ok?”

Me at 2:03: “Yeah I’m good”

So I can definitely check funny off of my list of positive qualities. And after reading this, I know that I can redeem myself tonight. All I need to remember: put down the phone and pick up another drink.

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