“I came to university to get away from people like you” – straight up, that’s what he said to me. I was 19, and those words, more than 20 years on, still have their sting…

It might not have stung so much if I had drunk more than just 3 cans before he’d said it. The drink had become my go to whenever I wanted to block out painful thoughts. And at that point in my life there was a lot of pain and a lot of drink.

And so, on that night, with only 3 cans swilling in my body, I was sheepishly hovering on the fringes of this group. I was trying not to draw any attention to myself, and I had no intention of getting into the state I had the 3, 4, 5…I don’t know how many nights…before. It was either those 3 cans or stay alone in my drab box of a bedroom. There was little for me in that bedroom. Not that I’d sparkled the place up in the two months I’d been existing there. The walls were bare…I had nothing and, as I saw it back then, I was nothing.

The full weight of it

I didn’t grasp the full sense of what he was saying. Not immediately. It was delivered in such a matter-of-fact way, with no charge to it whatsoever. I’m sure he said some other things before and after it – I don’t recall. He had sidled over to me casually, with my initial feeling being a mix of nerves and delight in someone making time for me. However, after he moved away from me, I was on my own. I wasn’t even on the fringes of that group anymore. Which gave me plenty of time to deepen into what he had said and feel the full weight of it.

People like me…hmm…get away from them…those people like me…

Me, one of those people…and to a place where they wouldn’t…shouldn’t…I shouldn’t…be…

University really wasn’t panning out well for me. You might say this was a pivotal moment in my university career, and it was, in a way, confirming early on that university wasn’t for me. At least not at that point in my life and I left university not long after.

(I came back several years later when it was better aligned…maybe in part motivated by proving people “like him” wrong).

Taking things deeper…

I’m sharing this memory for two reasons. First, I’ve just reached another year without alcohol (17 years now, I’m smiling about that) and I sometimes share something of my experiences that might be useful for others. Second, because in having reflected on this memory lately I’ve made a small internal shift that that might be useful to share too.

This “get away from people like you” memory surfaced in a volunteer training session I was delivering on mental health peer support. In the training, I encourage those attending to share something of their own experiences around mental health and recovery. Of course, there is no pressure to share. It is important to share only what we’re comfortable with sharing and to be mindful of others in the process of that sharing. If it feels right to us.

In these sessions we can get very deep, very quickly, and the point is to explore the power of sharing authentically in a way that might be helpful for others to hear. Sometimes sharing with others isn’t helpful, other times it is. It can depend on many factors – it’s not an exact science (just like science). Remember, we’re human.

I’ve run this training 4 times now. I’ve gained in confidence every time, strengthened my own propensity to share, and I learn something every time. When I share my experiences with the group, I challenge myself to share something new. Not just to keep it fresh for everyone in the room, but because I’ve got my own work to do, and I’ve got scary corners to bring into the light. And it was this memory that came into the light.  

In reflecting upon it these last weeks I found myself deepening in my compassion. Not just for myself, but the person who told me I didn’t belong where I was. In isolation, away from my other problems, of which I was using alcohol back then to cope with (and compound), I might just have seen the “I came to university to get away from people like you” comment for what it was. The reflection of another person’s landscape – their own fears, prejudices, and pain – and very little to do with me below the surface of what was said. This doesn’t make what he said to me right – far from it -, but beyond my own sting from the moment long ago, I sit here wondering what must have happened to him to feel that way about me.

I wasn’t present enough in myself back then to help him figure that out. Sorry my friend…I hope you’ve worked it through by now for your sake and others. I’m still not always present enough when I hear people express things that seem to be about me but in reality are about something much deeper. Therein lies my work – my own presence in relationship to others and expanding my capacity for compassion. I’m getting there – sort of…

As someone like me once said: I still get it wrong and do things that don’t serve me – I am human; and I am continuously working on being a happy one.

***Why not read these other longer drinking related blog posts – 10 years of facing what is or Addictive by design. Or better still, I write earnestly about my drinking in chapter 12 on my book on happiness – so you could take a chance on that, if you like.