Sunday, 9 February 2014

Deja vu

Wandering along Ilfracombe promenade and I'm noticing all the sand bags, they're all shoved to the side now looking a bit trampled. This place has taken a real battering, 10metre tides, wild winds & plenty of rain, the weekend's not looking bright either. Of course all this bad weather has stopped me from working. I had to sign on again today , I'm already behind on the rent plus my washing machine has decided to pack up, " It doesn't just rain it pours".

Weekend junkieism has taken its toll, plus I've been tanking booze to maximise the gear. Friday after work I glugged down half a bottle of vodka.

Fri 31st Jan.
" Alright mate what are you after ?"

" 3 "

"OK prang me when you're at the door and I'll come down for you"

Excellent he's inviting me in, that means Dr. J. can give me a hand with my hit, I'd better act normal on the way up, better not stumble on the stairs and give away the fact I'm drunk, J's given me enough chances as it is.

" You got clean ones ? "

" Yep ! How many are you doing now ?

" All three of course "

All I had to do was take the position, lie down on the bed, turn my head to the right, stick my thumb in my mouth and blow. All being well the vein in my neck would show itself, the Dr. can  administer the shot and then it's whoosh, "Goodnight Irene".

The next thing I'm aware of is walking into the pub across the road from where I live thinking  " Oh yeah curry and a pint, just what I need ."   I knew I was 'out of it' ! People kept shouting at me to wake up, they weren't horrible to me, we were having a laugh and a joke, my history is no secret, they knew I was fucked, they didn't refer to it but they knew ! and they knew how ! I could see the concern in their faces.
 The curry was delicious, the pint I only just managed to drain, I took the best possible action possible and got the hell out of there before I made a bad situation a whole lot worse.

" Goodnight everyone "

" Karl aren't you forgetting something ? "

" Eh "

" That's £7:95 please "

When I awoke in the early hours of Saturday morning there was no sore head just a profound sense of confusion. I had no recollection whatsoever of how I made it back home from town, just a niggling memory of being led down the stairs by a very concerned J. holding me by the arm. The rest was a complete blank until the moment I entered the pub.

Saturday afternoon was my next rendevoux  with J.  He met me in the lanes, no surprise there !

" Fuckin hell Karl you had me worried yesterday !"

" Did I go over ?"

"You collapsed, I threw water over you and got you out into the fresh air, I was moments away from calling an ambulance, and then you just wandered off up the road. "

" Sorry mate and cheers "

I guess I'll never know how I made it back to Hele that night but one thing I do know is that I might as well have been playing Russian roulette.

I've been running these events through my mind again and again, Why do I keep trying to obliterate myself ? The only pattern I've found so far is that for the past four years I've been prone to losing the plot around this time of year, I'm sure it goes back further but my memory ain't that great.

It's Sunday February 9th today and it's been a gear free weekend, I've managed to talk myself out of using all week and guess what ?      Now my fridge has packed up !