The Great Festive Fuck Up

Yeah I fucked up.  2 weeks in and I cracked on Christmas Eve. Then again on Christmas Day. Boxing Day. Both days away in York and then again on New Year’s Eve. Fully off the wagon and currently feeling like shit. Feel like a failure, a scrub and basically as I am typing this on the first day back in work after the Christmas binge/break, I’m thinking about getting an Uber to the nearest bridge and doing my best Tom Daly impression.

Jokes aside, I do not miss this feeling.

I thought, originally, that quitting right before Christmas would be good and test my character, but I just succumbed to the drink and kept telling myself I’ll start again by doing Dry January. Apart from feeling down in the dumps now, I mean I was still up gone 3am because of withdrawals from the booze, I don’t actually regret it as much as I thought I would.  I do regret it because I want to be sober but in my delicate state, trying to be gentle on myself but still think you’re a prick mate, I had a great time. But now it’s time to knuckle down, take 2020 by the balls and absolutely boss this year, sober.

I did have a great Christmas though, really enjoyed it. I hope you did too, and I hope you stayed sober and wasn’t a prick like me. There were no arguments as such and I didn’t drink exactly into oblivion apart from Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve. When I think of those two nights, the main nights if you will, I do have a horrible sense of dread and anxiety because I remember nothing. But my girlfriend, who I owe so much to and if I ever make anything of myself will give her everything, just shrugged it off and said I fell asleep and didn’t really make that much of a dick of myself. I don’t really give a fuck what any cunt thinks but right now, feeling delicate, tired and emotional, it’s giving me anxiety thinking about it.

But hey, new year new me and all that bollocks. I know some of you have been asking where my post was over the festive period and I do apologise. It took over me once more and I can only say sorry for that. Today has been spent kind of self-loathing but kind of staying positive. I know, better than anyone, that I am a moaning bastard and can be pessimistic. But with it being a New Year I am trying to be positive. I’ve written goals down and things I will treat myself by staying sober. I’ve written activities down I enjoy doing like stuffing my face at the cinema and playing badminton – weird one I know and proper doesn’t sound like me. I’ve made a massive watch list on the IMDB App because, deep down, I am a TV-binger. I’m going to buy myself a laptop for at home so I can open and write on the blog if I’m struggling. It’s a nice little community we’re growing here and I really appreciate the comments and struggles you confess to me. I’m going to get back into my cooking and try to cook something gourmet, I was a chef straight from leaving school, at least once a week for me and the Mrs. I can’t really think of much more else I enjoy, miserable cunt, but I think this is a great start. We’ll call the comment section below the suggestions box and if there’s anything you think that I could incorporate into the daily life of a struggling piss-can who thinks that wine, whiskey and anything else fermented is the only way to be happy then, please let me know.

Even though, when you’re on a sober streak, there’s always that temptation of drinking. It’s honestly not worth how you feel. I mean the 2/3^rd January is a depressing day for the 90% of us that are back on the grind before the weekend, back to the mundane routine, but by Jove is it amplified by an alcohol come down.

I suffered depression, boo-hoo I know, after my Mum passed away and was drinking heavily, binges, cocaine, all sorts of shite. But today for about a minute or two I was overwhelmed with an incredible sense of dread and darkness. It felt like the world was grey and colours were obsolete. The feeling reminded me of how I felt for weeks and months back in 2015 and it was scary. It’s a sensation I never want to experience again and even though I am trying to remain positive about my festive fuck-up, it really wasn’t nice, at all.

So anyway. It’s Day 2, again. This time I’m feeling more positive. I’m going to eat better, instead of going Pound Bakery every fucking day, I’m going to do my activities and I’m going to grab this year by it’s fucking bollocks and achieve more than I’ve ever achieved before. I hope you’ll join me whether you stayed strong or not over Christmas.

Let this blog post be a reminder to all of us that the temporary happiness and relief of pain/anxiety/depression that alcohol provides, is not worth it in the forthcoming days. Bring on 2020.