Someone order some gin

I just want to get drunk. I want to kick this sobriety in the nuts and have a good (few) pints. I have wanted this for a while. This entire last year in fact. and there’s been a longing for some class A’s in there too – like a juicy cocktail to just temporarily bring some relief and fun to the emotional chaos and/or the pain. And just for the record, I ain’t never had any ‘problems’ with alcohol or drugs. Well, except for the teenage days when I used to down tumbler glasses of vodka, but everyone did that, right?

I’m a believer in Fun. In fact, if I had a middle name it would be that. I have never known life without it. And I have always been blessed with not ever needing alcohol or drugs to have a cracking good time. I tended to always be the one at festivals where people would roll up to me asking me ‘what I was on’ and I’d simply respond with a (probably really annoying) smile and just say ‘life’. Sometimes it was gin too but most of the time I was just high on the vibe. And one time MDMA but that’s another (hilarious) story.

I’m a big believer in getting a break. Getting a break from hanging out on top of your vat of dark and messy molasses – anytime but particularly in times of this kinda healing, when it’s so all encompassing and so hard to not be lying face first in. And, when you’re doing such a good freakin’ job too. It just asks for a mini-break. For the stepping off the side of the vat of shit and letting loose.

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I think a bit of gin was involved here.

For me, nature gives me that, or raving round my room to electro music in my pyjamas on a Saturday night. But just sometimes I long to have a raucous drunken time with my friends. I wish I didn’t care about myself so much. I wish I didn’t look after myself so freakin well and I wish I still did that thing of pushing myself like a mean ass bitch. Okay, I realise I don’t really wish these things but a part of me definitely does. And just to clarify, when I mean drunk, I mean it in the light and fluffy and fun sense. Not the lying-face-first-on-the-sidewalk kinda drunk.

The truth is though, I would literally be fucked if I got drunk. Even the light and fluffy kind. I would be knocked sideways into an oblivion of feeling like absolute shit. I’d fall face first into my vat of molasses and be hung over for about a month. I feel sick and have to lie down if I have a millimetre too much of my herbal tincture which has about 0.0002% alcohol in it. Bring gin into the equation and I’d be screwed. I have a drag of a friends roll up cigarette and I am high as a kite for a few minutes. Damn these sensitivities.

The other week I had had the most intense EMDR session ever. I met up with one of my favourite people in the world shortly after and I ranted on about how I just wanted to get drunk and have a cracking night out, dancing, laughing and stumbling home to let loose some of this intensity. ie I just wanted to HAVE FUN and feel like a ‘normal person’, whatever the hell that is. She wanted that too so we ranted on for a while and were so so tempted. Instead of hitting the town, we had a hilarious adventure across some hills instead. I had three sips of her beer and was drunk within a minute and hungover within three minutes. I went to open up my Safari on my phone the next day and it brought up this search below. It made me laugh so much. I just had to check with me Google that it was okay to get drunk after EMDR. Google said no. Google said go to alcohol therapy. That is not what is needed here. In fact quite the opposite.

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Instead we did this:

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This same chica above and I met up yesterday and this seems to be the topic of out conversations because in this haze of shit we’re both navigating through, we just want some freakin’ wild fun. Or not even that wild. Just normal twenty-something FUN would do. In reply to a text of hers this morning, wisely saying how we’ll get there someday soon without it fucking us up for days afterwards, I responded:

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I know I’ll be back in a few years with my dancing shoes on, and my gold hot-pants over my trousers. When friends are quietening down, I’ll be raving it up, but until then I’ll just enjoy the fun bits of a quiet life. It ain’t so bad really. All this talk is kinda just that – I wonder whether, if handed a pint and a healthy liver, I’d really want to get that drunk after all. Hangovers suck anyways.

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One thought on “Someone order some gin

  1. Your posts are terrific. I’m 58, went to pieces at 30, and, yep, all because my subconscious was finished working so hard keeping my childhood a big secret from my conscious mind. In the world of therapy, the 1980’s were almost the dark ages. I’d been in therapy for years before Prozac came out! And when I tried it, I didn’t get any relief; I got suicidal. Figures.

    Back in “my day” the theory was that the emergence of traumas had to be regulated; this meant one trauma at a time, thank you, which I kept saying was like having surgery in slow motion with no anesthesia. So your blog is a wonderful connection for me in so many ways: some of your realizations remind me of some of mine. (The amazement when I discovered I was a woman! Really? I’d been using rest rooms marked “ladies” forever, but at one point it dawned on me that I was….a woman. This is of course not something you can really announce to your friends. “Hey, guess what? You’ll never believe what I just figured out!” Then once I’d realized that, I went into a very long tailspin, since being a girl had put me in danger. (Yes, I knew boys were sexually abused too. Only not in MY family.)

    Actually, back in “my day” they were still arguing over whether dissociation even existed. I still remember when it was “discovered” on brain scans that people with small, rumpled hypothalamuses were the same people who claimed to have been traumatized.

    Anyway, I’m really finding your blog refreshing (sorry to say that when I know it’s not always “refreshing” for you. But I’m so glad to read about your life and experiences, and your work when so much more known than 30 years ago. My therapist has just proposed some EMDR to do some housecleaning. EMDR is not as common here in the US, so it’s a gift to read about your experiences with this.

    I came upon your blog because I have chronic fatigue syndrome, then was struck by the rest of your story. I’m sorry to write so much, but a few days ago you remarked that you wondered if anyone was even reading what you write. I just want to say your blog is terrific–energetic and honest–and I also want to say that I am here in the US, reading what you write and cheering you on from the bottom of my heart.

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