If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 2 of what?), have a quick read of this explanation:
Tomorrow is here. I am back. Although, tomorrow isn’t here, it never is, is it. Weird that. Nonetheless, it is today and I am writing again. In a strange mood. that happens sometimes. I am sure if it does for you too. I fear perhaps alcohol had a part to play. It has a funny effect on me. Turns me to the dark side, if I am not careful that is. I have spent years finding a level that I can work with. For a long time recovering from being suicidal I was terrified of the stuff. Too scared to drink it, or at least more than a glass. As time went on I managed to increase my intake without any obvious disasters and now I have a pretty good handle on it. Hang on a sec, I am just making some tea.
Have tea will travel. Oh and also have milk on my fingers and now my keyboard. If someone could tell me where that expression comes from I would be truly grateful. Have … will travel. What does it mean? No bloody idea.
Anyway, back now, where was I. Oh yes, alcohol. Now I wouldn’t exactly say it was my nemesis, as in I was never a functioning alcoholic, I didn’t drink during the day but once I started, invariably on an empty stomach, I found it hard to stop, I know some people would argue that is exactly what an alcoholic is but in the years leading up to being suicidal and those in recovery I manage fine drinking and stopping, so I believe I am not an alcoholic. I felt the numbness quite soon, that was nice, for a bit and then the thoughts came. The dark ones. This was always the worst times when I was suicidal. It was bad enough during the day when I was sober but in the evening when I had been drinking my mind did a total number on me and I was on a downward spiral of destruction. This is all retrospective understanding I hasten to add. No bloody idea at the time. Just didn’t want to think or feel. Pain mainly. I didn’t want to feel my pain. Mental and physical. Although it was the physical I was acutely aware of. The mental crept up on me and took me by surprise. Never cried so much in my life. One night when I decided the alcohol wasn’t enough to numb the pain any more. I decided to raid my pant draw. No, I wasn’t planning on sticking pants in my mouth, duck taping it and scaring the shit out of myself. My pant draw, like the draw most people have in their kitchen, is also filled with a fuck ton of other stuff, most of which I will never use. No, I wasn’t searching for my best silk panties, which is handy as I don’t have any. I was searching for pain killers and lots of them.
I have had so many surgeries that my pant draw is normally full of enough stuff to take someone’s lights out and that was my plan. So, in anticipation I slid it open. Pushed back my selection of old, hard and frayed Primark pants to find four paracetamol. You are kidding me right? That’s not enough to take out a mouse let alone a human. All be it a skinny one. I fucking hate that phrase. Mainly because people use it to describe me. And it isn’t true. Yes, I am slim but I am lean, 20 years of physio therapy exercises and you get lean. Back to the paracetamol, skinny is for another day, as is girl, another one of my favourites – to hate that is. Four – for fucks sake (excuse the pun). I finally decide to put an end to it and I have already swallowed all the other pills. Fortunately, this actually made me laugh. the irony of it tickled my dying sense of humour and I said “fuck it”, laid down and went to sleep.
Well bugger me, over 600 today.
For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.
If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7
If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment. If you make a comment, please explain what it was that made you feel that way.
Thanks, Liz
Surgery and Prosecco 