I’m Not 20 Anymore

Full disclosure, I started writing this as I sat at a party surrounded by 20 year-olds. I’d been there an hour and a half and was 8 drinks in. 6 of which were shots so it was fine.

Totally fine.

I already knew that I was going to regret every decisions I’d made so far that evening. Did that stop me from doing another 6 shots of B52 when they were offered to me?

Absolutely not.

Did I instantly know that things were about to take a turn once I finished taking that last shot?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

I believe my exact words were, “Oh no. Oooh no no no. I’ve made a mistake. Oh god I hate myself.”

What followed on from this was a series of events that were quite unfortunate for me. I made myself very familiar with not one but two toilets in that house and the floor around them. I slid down a set of stairs on my ass because they were very vert steep and safety first.

No, seriously these stairs aren’t a friend to sober people let alone a drunk person and even 14 drinks deep I’m still all about that safety first.

A video was taken of me lamenting my poor decisions, a video I vividly remember being recorded and then sent to my oldest brother. Then for some reason I got mad about it? I don’t know why since I knew it was being done and as soon as Matt’s boyfriend said he was sending it to my brother my response was, “Yeah, I know you are it’s fine.”

So maybe drunk me isn’t completely reasonable, sue me.

Then after a slight mental break down because apparently my mental state had not been stellar for a long time and I was just ignoring it because I didn’t have time to throw myself a pity party but at a 21^st was suddenly the perfect time, Matt took me home.

Not before I realised that my glasses were still upstairs on the bedside table of my friend’s bed and I made a mad dash up the stairs that had a few people wondering how I didn’t die.

I’m wondering how I didn’t die.

It’s fine I still took the ass express down.

Thankfully I fell asleep on the drive home as Matt’s car and I are not friends when I’m nauseous. I got inside, drank close to litre of water and went back to sleep. Now in the past I would’ve woken up the next morning feeling slightly sorry for myself but not really any worse for wear.

That was not what occurred that winter morning. No.

Matt cooked us some breakfast and I got half way through before making another offering to the porcelain gods. And then another roughly half an hour later. Pretty much anytime I thought it was safe to ingest literally anything even just water, for the next 7 hours I puked it back up.

I ended up just leaving a soft blanket on the floor around the toilet so the cold tiles weren’t another thing my sorry self had to deal with. Thankfully I managed to fall asleep for a little bit and then Matt found some Thins original chips which were a huge help through my pregnancy for my nausea. I always kept a bag in the door of my car for when I had to drive early in the morning. A handful of those and some water and all I had left of my hangover was a headache which I kept trying to sleep off.

24 hours after the first deposit at the porcelain bank I finally started to feel alive again. I managed to go and sit in my office – correction I leant my chair back and laid in it in my office and let some friends on discord laugh at my misery and make memes out of a photo of me on the ground.

They were wholly unsurprised when I filled them in on my mental health realisations and the ever present mum guilt of both needing time to myself but not wanting my child to think they’re a burden, while ALSO hating myself for even considering that I need time away from him because we are his entire world.

Apparently I’m not as mysterious and good at hiding my mental health as I once believed…go figure.

All in all, the experience was one that I will remember for a very long time. As it was for the whole of the following week anytime someone so much as mentioned Kahlua or Bailey’s (2 of the 3 ingredients found in a B52 shot) I felt like throwing up. It’s been 2 weeks and I still don’t feel like drinking.

The upside to this is the only person in the family that can judge me is my mum, everyone else has had close to or worse times when drunk. Buckets on heads ruining 21^st birthdays, walking up hill on the highway rather than calling any of the three people who were close by and available to give them a lift home, jumping out of a window, falling over a wall and dislocating one’s knee, ending up in hospital. Those last three were the same person but also the most likely one to give me shit.

Now I’m off to work on my Ellie cosplay as Comic Con is finally coming back to Perth and is mere weeks away and I’m a bit behind.

P.S. We’re not going to ask questions about whether or not I’m dealing with my mental health. I’m fine, I’m being kinder to myself. For now.