12 days sober
Ok, listen, I am in no way disagreeing with proven scientific fact: alcohol is a depressant. Fine. But I am being deadly serious when I tell you that I feel so much more depressed now than I did when I was drinking every day– and by quite a large margin, which is very, very worrying.
Jesus H. Christ, this is fucking horrible.
Yesterday in the pub I was so angry and tearful and anxious and paranoid and miserable and generally being a total bitch to everybody around me, so much so that I had to leave, I was drowning in sadness and despair and felt fucking suffocated, and so I went outside for a smoke and I tried to talk to my friend about it and he was drunk so he was all, “Cheer up sweetheart!” and sloshing his beer around and so I stormed inside and said to everyone, “I can’t do this, sorry!” and ran away and as soon as I got home I burst into tears and crawled into bed and took too much quetiapine.
And of course everyone around me is saying, “Just have a half! It won’t kill ya”, failing to understand the fact that I simply cannot “just have a half” because one half turns into another, which turns into a few pints, which turns into some shots and a few glasses of wine, which turns into doing cocaine in an alleyway and sleeping with people that I shouldn’t sleep with. FUCK. Argh I’m so sad and angry. I’m not yet 22 years of age, I shouldn’t be in this position where I can’t go out and see friends and family out of fear that I will relapse. In fact, I’m pretty much scared of going outside to anywhere because I don’t trust myself. I wanted to go to the library today but there are 4 pubs along the way and I know that I would definitely go to The Black Horse and possibly the Misty Moon, if not all of them.
Also, I saw a t-shirt online with the slogan, STRESSED, DEPRESSED, BUT WELL DRESSED and so now I am angry about the glamorisation of mental illness by these ignorant fucking fashion brands, and I’m angry about this evil human being, and then I saw something on tumblr that said “MANIC DEPRESSION IS THE NEW BLACK” which made me want to be sick. Blergh. I can’t even think about it.
Maybe I was this sad all along but all the drinking made me oblivious to it. But really I don’t believe that. Let’s say on average, with 1 being super-happy and 10 being suicidal, most days I level around the 6/7 mark, which was then reduced to around 4/5 mark after I’d had a couple of alcoholic drinks. But the past week or so, I have felt myself teetering on the border of 9. Yesterday I felt 10. And what is fucking bullshit is that I know if I had a beer or a glass of wine, I wouldn’t have felt like 10.
Fuckfuckfuckingbullshitfuck. This is bullshit. I need to phone my care team.