Friday 14th June 2019
Surprise surprise. Self loathing is back. I spend those moments between being awake and actually getting up, filled with an aggressive dislike for myself. Why did I drink? Why did I not go back to work? Why did I eat so many packets of crisps?
I want to slap myself. Wine is an absolute c unit.
Now don’t get me wrong, I totally enjoyed myself, but then I walk past a mirror and I fill it. I’m an absolute unit. So it’s all fun & games until I see my reflection.
I have to pack my case for my weekend in Switzerland, we’re staying with my sister in law, it’s our twin nephews first birthday.
Really need to just be in some rehab where they sew my mouth up. I want so bad to hate drinking, I’m so jealous of sober people. But I do love drinking and even worse, I’m fucking good at it. It’s one of my few skills, that and the chicken dance, which my best friend hates.
I’m not proud of it, (drinking, not the chicken dance) sometimes I talk about drinking a lot. It’s not pride, it’s self deprecating. I’m telling people what I think they want hear. Im a laugh. Oh god I’m fucking anton from love island. I feel like people should be walking me down the street naked, ringing a bell shouting “SHAME”
Despite all of this, I know I’m in for a weekend of drinking, starting with the airport. The show must go on.
Comments