The Glorification of Hangovers and Puking All Over the Place

Glorifying Hangovers and Puking All Over the Floor

11-18-11

I miss being unfettered by medication. When I could go where I wanted, go get shitfaced with friends, and so long as I wasn’t driving and had a place to stay, or had a DD, everything was copacetic. I could get fucked up and there were few worries about it, save if I had to work the next day.

Now, though, I am barely cleared to have a glass of wine with dinner for fear of it fucking up my medications and destroying my organs.

I would like to say that I rarely ever went and got fucked up. I didn’t like minting the pain coin of the hangover the next day (even if I drank water and re-hydrated I had a fuzzy head and was generally crabby). However, I did enjoy being able to even go get tipsy at a concert to deal with the crowd and be able to loosen up and enjoy myself. I did enjoy being able to go to a friend’s birthday party and drink toasts (and get totally toasted sometimes… sorry about closing out that one party Timmy, Tim, and Sarah). It was maybe three times a year, if that. Before getting sick, I think the last time I had gotten fully fucked up had been that party I just apologized for.

I miss being unfettered by medication. While having a set schedule can be nice, having the ability to change it for work can be helpful. Being able to change it for play can enhance the quality of my life. Being able to change it up just because I fucking WANT to can just be nice.

I miss being unfettered by medication. I miss being able to stay at my boyfriend’s house without having to worry about if I have my meds with me. I am paranoid about always having my pill bottles on me because sometimes my brain hiccups and I might lose my pills. These fucking pills are expensive, and I am already enough of a financial burden on everyone around me…

I miss being unfettered by medications because they are so expensive. I miss not having to worry about how much a single pill will cost if I run out of it and need more before the insurance will cover it.

I miss the “good old days.”

What’s funny is that I swore that I would never be one of those people who would pine for lost days. The now is all there is, after all. We can affect the outcome of the future only so much. Living in the past is something I have done, and there is no life to be had there. The future isn’t written, and I have spent quite a lot of time fantasizing about that. The present is where change can really and truly be affected, and here I am… talking about what I miss…

Well, the truth is that I am fettered by these medications for now. I might be off of them someday, though I doubt it. I can miss the old days all I like, but glorifying them will only depress me. However, writing out the pain helped… It was like cleaning a festering wound. It stung like hell, made me cry, but it was a good hurt.

Healing can really suck, and not in that fun way filled with tongue, teeth, and spit. :D