Coming Down

Drank myself silly and danced the night away to bad music. I recall dancing with the he-must-be-gay-but-seems-to-be-trying-to-get-it-on-with-all-the-girls waiter. One of the nurses drove us back to our neighbourhood and I thanked her by vomiting over her car, just the outside, but it's still vomit that needs to be cleaned up. And like a tired old story, I had to be walked home, then passed out in the lounge room leaving Thabo to put me to bed.

I was so acutely aware of my intention to drink excessively. All night I felt prickly and socially awkward- unhappiness trying to push its way through. I woke up this morning still drunk. As the alcohol wore off, feeling down in the dumps came on. It felt worse than any other drug-induced come down I've had. The same shit ten times worse along with guilt, shame and hopelessness on top of the hangover.

I couldn't go to a friend's birthday bash tonight because I was so fearful of breaking down in public, in front of others and humiliating myself more. Or humiliating Thabo. He made sure that I knew that he was sticking by me through all of this. He sent me this message on his way out:

"You are the most beautiful person in the world. We will get better. I will make sure of it."

I'm in a bit of trouble. I hope my counselling session goes okay. I'm scared of it turning out the way it did with the GP. He was my last hope and it felt like he destroyed it.