Thursday, 4 August 2016

Dancing in Drunken Honesty

First of all, I need to make one thing clear.

I am not an alcoholic. It even says so on my Twitter Account.
Please use this confession as a piece of unsensored honesty, and laugh at it. I understand my behaviour was not up to par with that of an adult, or of anyone really, and I have learned my lesson.

The number of times I have been drunk is a sum total of four. It is for this reason that my level of tolerance of alcohol is somewhere between -10 and dead.

I have never resorted to substance abuse when feeling under the weather. I never grew up around smokers and my parents barely had any alcohol in the house. I was also, for lack of a better word, a ninnie. I was, and still am at times, afraid to rebel.

Well let me tell you, two nights ago was not one of those times..

It all started when I had engaged in conflict with my boyfriend, who is now as of two nights ago my ex-boyfriend. I was upset. I had a bottle of Cookies and Cream liqueur left over from a night with friends (yes I am proud to state that I actually have those) and I got drunk. (*I am not proud to state that I did that). I've since been told that it happens to the best of us.

Getting drunk at home is a rather lonely experience. There was no one who was on a mental vacation at the time, as I was, so the decent, drunken-lunatic conversation that I was trying to achieve was met with concerned looks and then fits of laughter.

It was all fun and games until I stood on the cat. (She's okay. Pissed off. But okay) This seemed to upset me even further, catalysing a release of built up emotion so big that I (apparently) fell on the floor and refused to get up until the cat forgave me.

As you can imagine, this took some time.

I have to give my mom some credit though. Somewhere between my declaration of love and respect for her and my pouring my heart out to my father about how much I miss him and aspire to be like him one day, she got me to bed at a decent hour (3 am is decent if you look at things in context) and had me in therapy the next morning.
Cocktail party dog
To be fair I'm just glad I told them how much I loved them, and that I didn't reveal things that would get me into trouble, such as the fact that I once knocked my mom's cell phone into a kitchen sink full of dirty dishwater.

That's a story for another day though.

I also have another story about my therapist. The best stories are always about therapists.

Things I Learned From This Experience

  1. Do not get drunk on your own at home. Besides the responsible and obvious reasons for this, there will be no one to go on a mental vacation with you and you'll just end up looking like an idiot.
  2. Cats are surprisingly robust (and squishy) creatures. 
  3. Boyfriends who have become ex-boyfriends are no reason to get drunk for, no matter how much of a good idea it seems to be at the time. (Side note: The liquer did help me to remember the fun side of the relationship - such as the time I narrowly missed his head with a cricket bat when attempting to demonstrate to him exactly why society should encourage cricket as more of aa girl's sport too.)
So, there you have it, my first confession. Please feel free to share this with your friends, as I did and they had a good laugh, which is what I need at the end of the day - laughter, friends and a whole lot of therapy.


  1. I'm laughing as I say this, "Your poor cat"! X)

  2. AW I do hope you are doing good now! This is quite the story though! I will learn from your experience as well.


Glad to see you have your love goggles on! You go Glen-Coco :D