I woke up on 1-20-2010 with a killer hangover and thirsty as hell. And I remember thinking “OMG I did it.”
I was shivering. I had two blankets made out of some heavy, grey, itchy weave. But even the two blankets didn’t help. I was cold.
The events from the day before were coming back to me in small, fuzzy, blurry pictures and sounds as if heard from underwater or at the beginning of a Marilyn Manson song. I could hear the people talking , remember waking in a cold holding cell, and remember sitting in the bar with my two brothers drinking double shots of Crown Royal until I was so drunk I walked my happy ass to turn myself in.
Now I was in a holding cell in county waiting to be classified. And my head was pounding, I was starving but couldn’t eat, and thirsty but something about drinking water from over a shared toilet was not something I was used to…yet. It was the worst hangover I had ever had. It lasted for 3 days, through holding and through two cell blocks.
No matter what happened after that, the whole journey I went through after that, to where I am now. I will never forget that last hangover.
Because going back to remember that bad time in my life and looking at it as if it is a thing in the middle of an empty room that I can observe, walk around, maybe touch and feel it, makes it seem like that is all it is. And then I can walk out of that room, close the door and know that the bad time in my life I just revisited will always be there, it will always be a part of me that I closed the door and walked away from.
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