Something Kindled in My Heart

Time and again I hear alcoholics say they grew up in Irish families. Count me in. Another trait that seems common with this demographic, especially in my women’s meetings, is social anxiety. We are a nationality with more than its fair share of depressive personalities, yet known for our humor—biting, for sure—and gift of gab. So doing the math, we Irish have a propensity for being the life of the party, all the while often being socially inept. I call it Shy-rish. Enter alcohol, the magic elixir that loosens the tongues of the wannabe glib.