Sick and Tired - A Reminder
- aidanreid0
- Oct 20, 2017
- 2 min read
When the brain fog clears, the body recovers lost nutrients and you approach something close to normality again after that particularly boozy session, mind erasers like to scrub out the devastating impact of THAT night.
Soon, all is forgiven. But not quite forgotten.
It’s worth remembering just how much those ‘few’ drinks really cost.
The fear kicking in, as you spend the day in bed, climbing the walls in a pit of hot despair.
The work event where you ended up drinking one too many, letting your colleagues and boss know what you really think of them. The work to mend those breaks begins now.
The money you spent to feel as bad as you do right now.
The long hangover sleep, which will destroy your sleep cycle for several days before it corrects itself.
The mind blowing headache not helped by severe dehydration starving the brain and vital organs of water to remove the poison from your system.
The greasy half-eaten takeaway at the end of the night helping to soak up the poison you just consumed.
The person you ended up with at the end of the night. Someone who, by your sober criteria, wouldn’t make it beyond your front gate normally.
The weekend made much shorter and dedicated solely to getting back to something like ‘normal’. An investment of a few hours drinking, for the return of days of bloated illness.
A hazy recollection or drunken trysts, arguments, tears and tantrums with a litany of apologies to make to those affected, usually the nearest and dearest.
The impact on a work week’s productivity from a drunken weekend. Extra-curricular activities are swallowed up. Gym sessions, detoxes, evenings classes – all a little more difficult in your weakened state (mentally and physically). Absence preferred to aid recovery.
How different our choices would be if our actions from the previous night were replayed to us in the cold light of day. Instead, we rely on friends to fill us in, usually slanted in a comical and entertaining way also viewed through their drunken lens. As the hours and days elapse, we emerge from the painful memories with less spiky memories, reducing in intensity until disappearing altogether.
That is, until the next night out – the next wedding – the next anniversary. Alcohol makes it’s suggestive, seductive play again and before long, she has us in her gun sight once again. A trained sniper, knowing when and where we’ll surface. How predictable we’ve become. We’re soon too doped to run from it, once again playing out the old familiar role. Only, we promise, this time will be different.
It rarely is, and that’s why it’s the most destructive drug on the planet.
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