A nightmare on Queen Street | first week sober


I’ve read about this you know, the night terrors once you decide to quit drinking. I mean, I’m not an alcoholic so it’s probably nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t put a drop of alcohol in my body since Thursday night / Friday morning (so what’s that? 2 days? Jeez is that it?! 2 days! It feels like I haven’t touched one in two weeks! Well that’s a little discouraging I’m not going to lie)

So far my recovery from my non-alcoholism has been quite tough, bearable but really tough. I’m not sure why it feels so tough because I’ve went 2 days without touching a drop of alcohol before, maybe it’s because I’ve told myself that not another drink is touching my lips and that’s making things a lot more surreal for me. My anxiety has been horrific and the slightest thing has set me off. If I hear someone outside my window I get that horrible ‘worms-in-my-gut’ feeling. I freaked out earlier because the washing machine was on a spin wash and god forbid I thought 6pm was too late for a spin wash because of the noise and got myself into a panic so I had to for a 5 hour nap. Living dead spat in the middle of ‘where everything is at in town’ isn’t the best place to live. And by ‘where everything is at’ I mean a few second-hand shops, some takeaways and a few dingy pubs, but as dingy as they might be I can still hear people outside them, laughing with their friends whilst outside puffing their cigs and having a good time. Right at this minute that doesn’t bother me but I think in time that will be something that might trigger me to want to go out on the piss.

What brought me here tonight was the horrible nightmare that I’ve just woken up from. I was in an abandoned building with a couple of friends, and 2 ex-boyfriends and there was an internet “celebrity” there too and i was trying to promote my snapchat on her snapchat but my selfie game wasn’t  good. And then she caught me trying to promote myself on her social media and then all the lights blew out and we were all being attached from these hills have eyes looking fuckers. So I hid myself into a room of darkness and all I could hear were footsteps coming closer and closer to me. So I took off the door knob and beat him up with it and then everyone started shouting at me telling me it was fake. That’s probably what we were auditioning for. Maybe I had been sipping on the Devil’s juice?  It probably doesn’t sound as scary as it felt but I woke up in sweats (And no, I don’t mean sweat pants – we only wear those on Wednesdays). Moral of the story I think we can all agree to not use snapchat. Nothing but bad situations, flesh-eating zombies and bad auditions come from Snapchat.

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Brooke

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