I’m going to my first AA meeting tonight. I have shared my blog with 2 close friends. and been told it’s a little hard to hear. And it is also a little hard to write. Today though, I feel clear headed and happy, I slept a semi normal sleep pattern (4 am to 11am) considering I’ve been sleeping through the hours of daylight recently this is an improvement. I felt a craving to drink but it felt more like a need to fill a gap, as though I was bored and didn’t know what else to do. So I watched a music video i’ve been obsessing over which lasts 4 minutes and 36 seconds, then shared that on instagram which took me to about 6 minutes.
Here’s a brilliant fact: the average craving lasts for just six minutes. If you can find a distraction for that time, your craving will diminish.-Lauren Booker
Loading myself with this knowledge really helped me and then when I thought I’d get bored again I sat down here to write. I’m in my peaceful home haven, occasionally glancing out the window onto the bustle of my neighborhood. and the biggest question I have to myself today is can my hair do another day without being washed? This feels blissful.
July 2008 – Kensington Roof Gardens
You work for Virgin Atlantic and you don’t have much of a social life, so when the opportunity comes up for you to meet some friends from college you do. You can’t remember if it’s for a birthday or for anything in particular. What do you remember? You remember chatting up some guys outside, playing to your friends as the loud brash ‘liability’ they have all come to know and love. You bust out overtly embarrassing dance moves and knock back probably 7 shots of god knows what as well as any cocktail you can get your hands on from whoever will pay for it.
You’re rudely awoken by a bashing on the door. You stir awake and realise you have barricaded yourself in a cubicle of the ladies toilets and you have vomit in your hair. You are refusing to move until a friend comes to get you (sorry Mel) and are screaming at the security guards to ‘GET THE FUCK OFF ME!’ It takes your friends 3 separate attempts to convince a taxi driver to take you in the car with them. They eventually do this by giving someone £30 up front in case you are sick in their cab. You are. Well technically you are sick out of the window spraying vomit over the side of an addison lee. Thankfully the cabby seems used to this and hoses it down with a few squirts from his buxton sports capped water bottle.
You sleep on the floor at the bottom of Mel and her husbands bed. So they can check on you through the night. You aren’t sick but you are completely ashamed. Your friends don’t hold this against you. This seems to be very standard procedure for you and all to familiar for them. It is a source of much of the mornings entertainment. You shrug it off, go for a binge of comfort food at McDonalds and later on have a beer to level out your hangover and guilt.