It starts like any other, normal night. It starts with the excuse that ‘I’ve had a bad week’, or ‘I’ve not drunk in ages’ or simply, ‘I just want to dance’. It starts with the words, ‘not like last week’. It starts with no thought of consequences, just of a good night. And it ends, always the same. It ends with gaping black holes which swallow up any memories. It ends with walking back to college at 4am, with no recollection of getting that far from home. It ends with pissed-off friends,  confused acquaintances, and the taste of a bad impression left for the morning after. It ends with shame. It ends with consequences.

I’m not addicted to alcohol. I don’t shake, I don’t crave it, I can go one, two, three months without even thinking about a drink. But I do have a drinking problem, one that causes ruptures in my friendships, and constantly ends with me waking up the next morning in terror of what I did or what I said or who I offended. According to DrinkAware’s self-assessment quiz, I am currently drinking at dangerous levels and causing myself and others harm.

I’m pretty sure that any university student who regularly drinks and goes out will fall under one of their ‘at-risk’ sections, simply because of the quantity of alcohol that is encouraged here at all events, at any point in the week. However, my problem is not one of how often I drink, it is that once I start and get past one bottle of wine, I can’t stop. I will accept any drink offered. I will drink and drink and get obliterated, even on nights I was intending on just having a quiet one.

When people drink so much that they black out, there is a tendency to stumble, to slur words, to be sick, to exhibit all the signs of being perilously drunk. However, I don’t really get those. I can be completely competent and hold a perfectly credible conversation (even if it is just chatting shit) looking for all the world like I will remember everything in the morning. Of course, I look drunk, but no one would be of the impression that I’m not doing things of my own accord.

This is dangerous, as none of my friends or anyone I talk to can tell how far gone I am and I am often left alone to my own devices to just wander off. It has become a running joke that no one I ever go out with will see me again after more than ten minutes in a club.

"I have done things that I have no recollection of, I have forgotten secrets told to me in the depths of black-out, and I have acted with no consideration for those around me"

It’s easy though, to get into this bubble where you are just known as the one who gets crazy when she drinks, the one who always ends up in strange places, the one with the funniest stories from the night before. And I’ve fully embraced that in the past, laughing the day after about getting lost in one court of an admittedly maze-like college for two hours because I drunkenly couldn’t find the exit and really didn’t want to go back to the room of the guy I’d just shagged and left.

Or maybe the time I woke up in my own bed with a complete stranger, and just laughed it off because we later realised, through Facebook stalking, that he was probably the biggest Cambridge twat it was likely that I would ever get with. There was the time I lost my phone, my wallet, my keys in a foreign country and laughed because the only thing I held onto was my cigarettes. There was also the time I drunkenly took a friend’s virginity, or that fresher’s virginity, or… the list only gets longer and longer.

"But I talk to my friends, they find it funny so I find it funny"

And of course, the morning after, I wake up with shame. I wake up with my head banging or even still quite drunk, having to force myself out of bed to get to lectures. But I talk to my friends, they find it funny so I find it funny. No one got hurt, so it’s okay. You got home safe, so it’s okay. You won’t do it again, so it’s okay.

Apart from recently, it’s not been okay. I have hurt my best friends in more ways than I can describe in a public article. I have done things that I have no recollection of, I have forgotten secrets told to me in the depths of black-out, and I have acted with no consideration for those around me. I have woken up with no recollection of why people may be mad, under the impression that I had a great night. I have had to apologise to more people than I thought I knew, and still have to avoid the eyes of too many people around college because I know that for some reason I managed to completely cock-up any chance of a friendship with them by just behaving like an idiot. I have forgotten whether or not I had sex with someone, waking up in a bed with just flashes of the encounter. I have forgotten to make him wear a condom. I have forgotten I was on my period. I have forgotten. I forget. I’m sorry.

Exclusive: Student alcohol habits uncovered

I often write to exorcise demons, from writing letters of apology and explanation, or articles to get out whatever shit is building up inside me. So, part of me is writing this article to do just that, because I’ve reached breaking point and I don’t know what else to do but write it all down. But I’m also writing this article because I want to raise awareness of the toxicity of the drinking culture that exists at university.

It becomes a twisted game of Cards Against Humanity, playing one-up with your friends to see who can come back with the best scenario. Apart from you forget that the scenarios are real, that the players live in a real world with real consequences. You forget that there are feelings to be hurt, that you can’t just shuffle the deck and laugh it all off.

Or at least, I forget. I forgot. I have forgotten. But I won’t anymore. If the beginning of this term has taught me anything, it is that I need to stop drinking, to get my act together and to actually live in the real world where I take responsibility for myself. If I want funny stories, I’ll read a book, or use my imagination, or play Cards Against Humanity. I just won’t play it in the real world, and I won’t be playing it with a drink in my hand.