I’ve never been big on Christmas. I hated all that let’s get together’ because one day dictates that. As time has gone by. Having a child helps. I have realised that not all family can get together all year round, for whatever reasons. Christmas is a good time to make that effort.
I was actually kind of looking forward to Christmas eve with my family and Christmas day with my partners family.
Until, I decided on being so pig headed. Instead of waiting 2 days to get very merry on cocktails/food and good conversation . I wanted to do it now ( that ‘now’ was two days ago). I am usually a lot more controlled with my drinking these days. I don’t know what made me want to carry on drinking. Maybe it was bumping into people I’ve shared good and crazy time with. There is still part of me that wonders –
The recklessness of those hazy day pulls at me, puts a rosy glow on my entire experiences of my thoughts on being with a certain guy or people. Doing reckless shit. Not having any responsibility to anyone. Partying -waking up the birds in the early hours of the morning. Nostalgia saunters by casually, sweeps me off my feet..
The birds crying ‘Serpent’ to me- just like in Alice in wonderland. I was as high as the trees in the wonderland forest. A bite from the other side of the mushroom and I grew bigger and higher.
The birds cry, hanging onto to their precious, freshly laid eggs.
Party time ended far too soon. I don’t mind a pumpkin, a few mice, a lizard and comfy shoes. Wouldn’t it be a great idea to come home and dance and carry on drinking?
After all is was Date night – no daughter. It was all going rather well until, I decided a bottle of Sambuca was just the flavour I needed.
I was already past the buzz stage of merriment and well into ‘if I drink any more I will send my brain into mania’.
I know that if I drink too much and too often. My serotonin and dopamine chemicals sends my Bipolar moods through the stratosphere.
Why did I have to go over the top? Three days before Christmas?
I am getting married in June. I’ve got a lot of shit to sort out. I have the most amazing man in my life. He loves me. He tells me all the time how much he loves me. I know he would do anything for our family. For me.
Over the past four/five years I have slowly put down my defences with him. He has got closer to me than any man has. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He is not religious. He does half the house work. He cooks us meals. He will do anything to make me happy!
Love is strange………….
People are strange, faces look ugly when you’re alone.
I do love him and Jim of course. Is my version of love enough?
The night of my epic drinking session. My partner had a random seizure- his muscles involuntarily spasm and seized up. I thought he was having a some kind of epileptic fit. I rang for an ambulance. He was rushed to A&E.
Turns out his brain was lacking in carbon dioxide. That was one horrifying panic attack. I sure as hell didn’t want to lose him. I went into shock.
What if he had died? Our little life we had created would be a distant dream.
Who would I get to laugh with?
Who would get my sense of humour?
Who would I get to cuddle?
Who would I get to debate with?
Who would get me like he does?
Who would I feel safe crying with?
Who would be the best father in the world to our daughter?
Yesterday, I went spiralling into depression – too much alcohol does that to me. I cried. I ended up dong a 4 hour work- out in a rogue attempt to bleed out the burst vines of thoughts and feelings out my of chalice shaped mind.
I feel a bit better today. I will be working out just as hard today. I’m getting my hair done today. I should at the very least be excited!
I have this dress that I thought would make me feel and look a 10/10 for tomorrow night. Now, I think I look like a puffed out piece of shreddies cereal. Soggy and bloated. Colourless.
It’s my call. Do I be selfish and not join my overly- anxious Ma and my torturous guitar playing, crocodile-style hat wearing, Alcoholic Uncle?
My epic daughter and my epic partner?
It’s my choice.
The thing is I know I don’t have to drink any more. I don’t need it. I know I can say no.
Thing is I have been so used to having my vices as a back up, that I feel stripped and naked without them. I don’t know how I am going to eat a meal and not pause, by taking a long sip of my fancy ice frosted cocktail. It seems easy to just go and do what I always do. I wish that over whelming urge had waited until Christmas eve. I wish I could be excited about getting my hair done and having a few drinks with my mate/hairdresser.
How do I end this post..
Happyness is an attitude, right? That little phrase got me moving for four hours yesterday. The other side of this drinking issue is my eating disorder – those thoughts stop me from allowing myself to eat and drink. I’m in a bit of a muddle. I am a muddle, if I go by Harry Potter books!
Muddles make mistakes. We err many times.
That is it -out of my mind.
Time to change my physical reality.
Getting out of bed counts, right?
P.S for those of you who can’t wait for the big day. I hope you have a blast. For the rest of us -it’s one day closer to a fresh chapter…