Thursday, 24 April 2014


Briefly I was back where I don't ever want to be. Sick and depressed with a dread in my stomach about having to see tomorrow. Pathetically fearing sleep because of the hallucinogenic dream nightmares. Feeling worthless like an old 50p. Three fucking horrible black days. Body and mind ripped apart and strewn out like animal carcass. My only true interlocutor is a blank page I couldn't force myself to write to.

Greasy globules of sweat disappearing beneath my uniform collar. They leave a silkworms trail along my face, stinging my eyes along the way. I think I'm about to have a redbull heart-attack and if it were to leave me unconscious it might even be a result.

Fucking alcohol. Fucking stupid me.

  You should avoid alcohol while taking this medicine. 

I have to come clean this time. I really have nothing or no-one to blame for feeling this way. It wasn't like I needed any encouragement to push the boat out just a little further upon a tide of tequila. I know I suffer from depression. I know I can sometimes struggle with drink depressions. I know I am on anti-depressants and I know better.

Saturday was a great laugh. An absolute belter of an evening. But I think for the first time that even a really fun night on the booze didn't get to within a galaxy of being worth the days after. It has scared the shit out of me in a big way. I really don't want to have to feel like that again. My brain felt to me like it was floating around inside a test tube, banging against the glass. The worst three days of 2014 by far felt as if time had stopped and I was the only person moving. I wanted to be held, dependant, looked after. It wouldn't happen however. 

I don't recommend binge drinking to anyone ever if it leaves you in tears driving home from work two days later like it did for me. That's the thing with these drink depressions, they tend to leave you vulnerable to some emotional conflict that you can otherwise control. In my case it lead to a very disappointing end to something I didn't want to end. It was dead anyway, it's just that it has been said now.

Fucking alcohol again. Fucking stupid me again. 

When you know the risks and do it anyway it doesn't seem fair to go crying to friends even when you really need them. Sometimes a hug makes it just a little better but I don't deserve any.

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