Why Cassie Drinks So Much Alcohol in “Euphoria”
What happens to Cassie when her self-image as a caring, trustworthy person begins to crumble
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*Warning: contains major spoilers*
When I quit drinking, I initially banned myself from watching fictional characters get blissfully drunk on TV. I was afraid it would make me question my sobriety.
But over time, I changed my stance and began to deliberately seek out TV shows and movies where problematic drinking was a central part of the storyline. I don’t do this out of longing, or nostalgia. I do it because I’m still trying to understand when — and why — I got to the point where drinking started to take away more from my life than giving back.
Season 2 of Euphoria — an HBO series about a group of high schoolers who experiment with drinking and drugs — made me reflect on my relationship with alcohol in a way that felt painful but also enriching. Although the season centers on Rue’s relapse with drugs, it’s Cassie’s storyline that resonated with me the most. Specifically, the way she drinks alcohol to numb out emotions and erase the parts of herself that she can’t withstand.
From the get-go, alcohol gets Cassie into trouble. After fighting with her sister Lexi as they drive to a New Year’s Eve party, a drunk Cassie stumbles to a nearby gas station, where she runs into Nate — the nefarious ex-boyfriend of her best friend, Maddy. This encounter sets off an unfortunate chain of events that dominates Cassie’s storyline.
Not only does Cassie sleep with Nate at the party — almost getting caught by Maddy — she continues to see him in secret. Which isn’t to say that her conscience is clear. Quite the opposite: for the remainder of the season, Cassie wallows in guilt and shame for betraying her best friend. “I’m not a good person,” she cries on the phone to Nate. “I don’t like what we’re doing.”
Believing that you are a bad person is a fixation that can become all-consuming. Unbearable, even. It can feel like you have discovered a profound, irrefutable truth about yourself. You can’t unsee it, and yet, looking at it too closely feels excruciating. Worse still, you start fearing that other people will see through you and discover the truth about how irredeemably broken you are.
This is what happens to Cassie when her self-image as a caring, trustworthy person begins to crumble. “You have this image of yourself as so fucking sweet and innocent… but it’s bullshit,” Nate tells her as they argue about his feelings for Maddy, leaving Cassie distraught.
Shortly after, on Maddy’s birthday, Cassie gets blackout drunk. At one point, she sways drunkenly in her living room, bottle of wine in hand, wearing a pink swimsuit that matches the ribbons and balloons that tangle around her limbs. “She always like this?” a duplicitous Nate asks Maddy, as they watch Cassie unravel. “No, but when she drinks, it’s just tragic,” Maddy replies, hinting that this is not the first time that Cassie has tried to obliterate her feelings of shame with alcohol.
It makes sense: alcohol is deceptively effective at soothing internal turmoil and dimming the parts of ourselves that torment us. A mild buzz can mellow out those intense feelings of worthlessness like that kind-hearted friend who reassures you that you haven’t done anything wrong and that you are amazing just as you are.
But, of course, there is a trap: that initial feeling dissipates awfully fast, leaving you no choice but to drink more, as the idea of returning to your sober, self-hating self now feels even more demoralizing. And so, you drink more and more until you are so intoxicated that you can no longer think of yourself in coherent terms. You have finally found a way to exist in the world without the weight of your self-judgment.
Or so it seems.
As Cassie finds out, this total blankness of mind is a precarious state. On Maddy’s birthday, she keeps drinking and drinking until she throws up in the hot tub. Then, as the alcohol leaves her body, she erupts into an uncontrollable fit of tears, screaming, “I ruined everything, Maddy, I’m sorry.”
This article is part of my sobriety series, where I examine society’s relationship to alcohol, as well as my own. If you’d like stories like this in your inbox, consider subscribing to my newsletter on Medium.
