Ah hangovers. We’ve all been there, some more often than others. Chances are you’ve probably experienced your fair share, unless you’re one of those rare breeds who claim “they don’t get hangovers”. (If any of you lucky ones are reading this, please teach us your ways).
so yesterday I experienced the mother of all hangovers, which got me thinking about all of the different stages we have to suffer through before it’s finally over.
You open your eyes slowly, afraid of being fully conscious and the inevitable onslaught of pain that you know is coming. If you’re a girl chances are at this stage you are peeling off the remnants of last nights eye lashes. Once your eyes are open you have the chance to take in your surroundings. This is where the panic sets in- are you in your own bed? Is there a stranger passed out beside you? If the answer to the above questions are yes and no – then congrats your hangover is going to be a little easier.
Once your eyes are open and you’ve become accustomed to your surroundings, you now notice the dryness of your mouth. You’re absolutely gasping for a drink, it feels like you’re housing the Sahara dessert in there. Cue the frantic search for water, or liquid of any kind. Be careful at this stage- bad things can happen. Like the consumption of contact lenses floating in what you thought was an innocent glass of water. (Yep it happened.)
Hey! You don’t feel that bad- maybe you’ve gotten away with drinking five jager bombs in a row, succ- oh no. Oh no, wait. Yep there it is. Your head is banging. The room is spinning. You want to vomit. The world is a dark and dreary place and you’re cursing yourself for ever going out in the first place, what were you thinking.
Assessing the damage-
you’ve been putting it off for long enough, but it’s now time to check your phone. (If it’s survived that is). You’re praying to god you didn’t drunk text or call anyone. You’re making every bargain and promise to yourself. Please god I promise I’ll never drink again just please make it so I didn’t ruin my life last night. It’s no use. You check the phone, 7 unanswered calls to the ex, and god knows how many snapchat screen shots.
Checking for possessions -the first thing you check for is your phone. Brownie points if it survived. Then you search for your wallet/purse/bag. If you still have everything then comes the horror of checking your bank balance. Oh it was all fun and games bringing your card out last night- until you notice that you spent 30 euro on a round. Fuck.
here comes the fun part. Trying to piece the night together. What happened last night? What did you do? Who did you talk to? Where did you get that bruise? How did you get home? Are your friends still your friends? Why can’t you remember anything? It was the tequila. It was definitely the tequila. So many questions, so little dignity.
you go for your feed. Only suddenly you’re not as hungry as you once thought. A wave of nausea comes over you. You’re caught between your desire to eat, and the feeling of immense sickness. This is the cruellest stage.
Self Hatred –
there’s no one to blame but yourself. You put yourself in this state so you’re going to have to suffer on. But god do you hate yourself. You’re never letting Mary convince you to do shots again. Why are you such a mess? Why can’t you stay in instead of spending all your money and ruining your life? You’re a disgrace to humanity. A disgrace. You’re never drinking again.
Gradual acceptance- It’s 9pm Sunday and it seems to be getting better. You’re almost at the end, well done soldier.
You’re now ready to sleep it all away full of promises and dreams of an alcohol free life. Until next weekend when you do it all again.