I haven't written anything in 3 days, and I’m going to tell you why. On Saturday, I attended a birthday party for a friend at a bar on long island that was wide open. I got drunk on Guiness and Makers Mark, and I don’t really remember anything. I've been hungover for 3 days, with that sinking feeling that I was an asshole to everyone, and I embarrassed myself. Not a pleasant way to feel, not anything new…either. I guess I needed to be reminded of how unpleasant that feeling is. The 38 year old me isn’t like the 24 year old me, who can roll out of a prolific black out drunk by the next day, either… I've been feeling like shit for 3 whole days.
A dull ache behind my eyes, a churning stomach, and the ever-present dread of what I might have said or done. The memories are fuzzy, fragments of drunken laughter, slurred words, and faces contorted in amusement or disgust. Did I offend someone? Humiliate myself? The uncertainty is its own special torture.
Thirty-eight-year-old me can’t shake it off like I used to. Back then, a hangover was just a minor inconvenience, a small price to pay for a night of reckless abandon. Now, it’s a full-body reckoning, a reminder that I’m not as young as I used to be, and that my coping mechanisms haven’t evolved with me.
I know why I drank too much. It was a familiar crutch, a way to silence the relentless whispers of self-doubt that plague me in social situations. It’s a pattern I’ve been trying to break, but old habits die hard, especially when the familiar sting of social anxiety rears its head.
The shame isn’t as overwhelming as it once was, though. I’ve come to accept that recovery is a messy, imperfect process. There will be setbacks, missteps, and moments when I fall back into old patterns. But the important thing is to acknowledge those missteps, learn from them, and keep moving forward.
This hangover is a wake-up call, a reminder that I need to find healthier ways to cope with my anxiety. It’s a reminder that I’m not alone in my struggles, and that there are people who care about me and want to support me. And it’s a reminder that even though I may have stumbled, I’m still here, still fighting, and still hopeful for a better tomorrow.
It happened, I’m still alive, and I still live to fight another day. Apologies to any parties who read this blog, and may be disappointed, i’m not going to keep it going and drink off the hangover like I once would, I just have to let it pass, i’m sure tomorrow will be a better day and I can get back to trying to figure out how to pay my phone bill by Friday by making money off of machine learning, somehow.
Hey friends! Friday is looming and so is my $26.35 phone bill. If you enjoy my stories, musings, and the occasional drunken overshare, consider buying me a “coffee” on Ko-fi to help me keep the lines of communication open! Your support means I can keep sharing my journey, even when I’m nursing a Guinness-induced hangover.
