You know when you have those nights where you get far too drunk to function and the next day you lie in bed, in a pillow fortress, regretting ever putting alcohol anywhere near your mouth and vowing to never sip on the devil’s juice again? Yep. Thanks 42’s, my state last week was ALL YOUR FAULT.
Just kidding, I still love you.
So basically my hangover kicked in the same day as my pill-induced period and I cried. I cried because I was sick, because I couldn’t eat because I was bleeding from my vagina (which is always an inconvenience) because I had left chips in the oven and my flat smelt horrible but in all honesty, I mainly cried because I wanted to go home. Home, home – as in leave my university course right now in Manchester and move home to Northumberland.
“You just went on one night out, Ella, chill out”
It’s a big jump from crying because you’re hungover and crying because you want to leave your educational course, is it not? Did that last can of Red Stripe really push you over the edge Ella, and made you question whether English really was your destined path in life? No of course not, but the thought process and need for immediate educational withdrawal stemmed from just one night out.
Last year all I did was go out. I drank three to four times a week. All of my ‘friends’ were people who just wanted to go out and stay up until 8am chatting nonsense in the kitchen. Every other day was a write-off day. I stopped eating healthy. I stopped seeing people. I stopped exercising. I stopped leaving the flat. I stopped going to my previous course. I stopped writing. Basically I stopped being me and that is extremely scary to go through.
42’s happened. I got so drunk and I walked home by myself and I burnt chips and I woke up in the morning and I seriously felt as if I had transported myself back to a year ago. I felt I had taken a 360 degree step back and action needed to be taken so that I would never, ever allow myself to feel like that again.
Leave Manchester = no nights ever like that again!
In hindsight, I should’ve made myself a smoothie, some Nutella on toast and some sugary tea but do we ever make good decisions in a time of crisis?
I rang my mom and told her I was coming home on the weekend. I talked to my two best friends and explained I was having a breakdown because of my night out and that I wanted to move home and quit university and never go back to Manchester.
Logically I learned this is stupid (thanks Kate). Why would I want to leave my favourite city in the world just because I got drunk and had a write off day? Plainly speaking, I am extremely worried about ever falling back into the ways of the alcoholic comas I used to spell through. Alcohol was forever my saviour, my friend on a good day and my medicine on a bad day. Why would I need to go to uni and get a life when I could just move home, save money and spend it on visiting my friends and getting pissed? Do you see my problem? This is a bad thought process. Alcohol is NOT the answer and moving home to avoid said ‘not the answer’ is definitley, double-ly NOT the answer!
Don’t get me wrong, I love having a beer after work, or having a glass of wine in a bar in Northern Quarter with my friends to catch up or if it’s sunny get me to The Oast House NOW. I am a total sucker for a controlled, social drink and I 100% know when it’s home time. However, I didn’t know that last year. The main difference in myself between this year and last is the realisation that I have changed and I am no longer the party girl I was. I have previously mentioned this epiphany in my ‘I’ve Lost My Party Girl Persona’ blog post.
In no shape or form am I telling anybody to stop drinking, having the time of their lives staying up until the early hours of the morning because we are young, full of life and fucking fun and doing that stuff is GREAT.
However, I am not the gal I was last year and it is extremely frightening when I slip back into that persona. The party girl who didn’t have any ambition to propel her life forward, to embark on an adventure to enhance her creative ability and basically craft a future: I turned into her last week when I wanted to leave my course. I never, ever want to be here again. So, here’s the plan of action.
PLAN OF ACTION
`1) Stop going on nights out and getting mortal. It was my New Year’s Resolution to still go out and have fun but to not drink. Do it, Ella. Get your ass into gear please.
2) Do my university course. You gave up last year, and I do not care what kind of bullshit excuse you come up with, you’re finishing your degree whether you like it or not.
3) Go home more. I’m at home this very moment and it is so special just lying in bed with my dog, going for coffee with my best friend and eating fish with my mom. The simple things in life are the best. Just try to get out of Manchester a bit more.
4) Write, write, write. Get your blog moving. Meet people and communicate and network. Put more time and effort into content for your own site and other sites. BE that productive girl that people go “Omg how does she do it”. Be her, get motivated, get sorted.
5) Don’t be the girl that you were last year. If you are her for a night, make sure you don’t flip out the next day and make your world come crashing down. We all have our moments. Just stay calm, breathe and make sure you have a long period between feeling bad about yourself.
The ramble has ended and honestly I currently feel so much better for getting my feelings of my chest. Stick around for some fun, interesting content coming soon (I promise my Berlin stuff will be on the way EVENTUALLY) and thank you to everyone who read the waffle.
For now everything’s coming up Milhouse,