So, that'll be a party of one then madam?......

well yes, it is a party of one, and instead of ending today with a thoroughly rotten feeling, I have taken these proactive steps, topped up mobile so that I can phone mental health helpline if I need to. Removed vodka from flat so that I don't have to have the endless argument with it....confrontationally the bottle stands on table. It shouts, 'DRINK ME', 'no' I feebly reply, 'I don't drink you anymore'. 'BUT NO ONE WILL KNOW, IT WILL BE OUR SECRET', the vodka bottle shouts back, 'YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO...GO ON...I WON'T TELL'.....'no, No, NO', I yell back with increasing frustration, 'this isn't just about you and me, it is about my driving licence, my liver and my ability to get better'. 'HUMPH', says the vodka, 'F**K YOU', I will just sit here til you get DESPERATE, then you will drink me'. Now fed up with the nightly argument with the inanimate bottle, I have put it outside, it can yell to its hearts content out there, on its own.

Today I haven't felt much like eating...spent all day yesterday cooking and now I can't eat...oh dear. But having spent the whole day in tears, feeling better, tears again, rant from MOMD down the phone, more tears, feeling better, realisation that I haven't really left the flat apart from aborted mission to MOMD yesterday for two days. So, without makeup on, with hair tied back into a mussy knot, with shorts, UGG boots and jumper on, I march to the shop...now feeling resolute about vodka, not being that victim again, and keeping soul strongish, oh dear... now tremble to shop... take into consideration that shop at top of hill has been victim to three armed robberies this week and so walk to shop at bottom of hill. Buy mobile credit, wine on shelf starts having the same flippin' conversation I have just left behind with the vodka bottle...decide to succumb and purchase large packet of tobacco and bottle of Australian plonk, about to leave and think, no, make it a positive day, and buy cupcakes... so tonight, the party of one will be drinking Australian Soave,and will be dining on cupcakes.

Ha, they would be queueing up outside if they knew the menu within.

On way back meet with group of opposite sex, 'arrrl rite luv', one slurs in its rhotic musings of love, the rest shove each other in the usual Plymouthian stirrings of riot, I gulp and mutter, 'absolutely marvellous thank you', and run for shelter, fortunately a passing CPSO gives me reason to stop, making up a rational reason for halting his swaggering steps, I ask for directions to my front door...... oh lord, how stoooopid have I got?

Make it back to the flat and swear I will never go out again.
Except I will...tomorrow, if it is fine, I will go out, spend the whole day out... maybe go to the beach and get a tan. Maybe tomorrow the big world wont be as scary, wont feel so intimidating and I will be OK..... maybe I will just phone helpline and give up being so goddamn positive when all I want to do is hang myself from something high enough and strong enough to take me, the cupcakes and the weight of the Australian plonk... in a minute it will be OK, I will remember that this feeling wont last forever, but for now it is real, raw, and so so so alone.
Much love x