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.
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