Imagine the scene. It's 2:45pm last sunny sunday afternoon just gone. There was me, having a nice afternoon watching Manchester United destroy Newcastle United, drinking 7.5% cider (see meths), then suddenly I decide it'll be a good idea to take an entire packet of anti-psychotic medication I was given years ago but never took, go for a walk, and see what happens. Now please bear in mind I've living with my parents who are constantly worried about my mental state, and you'll come to the same conclusion that I did......T.W.A.T.
Cut to 3am(ish) Monday morning, and find myself huddled under a tree in a field somewhere, pissing down with rain, one step from hypothermina, barely able to focus, wracked with pins and needles, strange colours and shapes floating in front of my eyes.....anyway...you get the drift. After two hours of stumbling around (I could hardly walk - and I had a terrific pain in my lower back - kidneys probably) to make the 3 minute walk home. Slumped into my bed, at 5:05 (I remember the time, because it was the first time my eyes focused), unable to think let alone sleep, counting down the seconds till my liver packed in or I had to get up for work, whichever was sooner. The amount of shit I've poured into my liver I'm continually astonished I'm still alive.
There you go. This isn't a one off. I've done it before. There was no suicidal intention....I just.....well....did it. WTF ? You can imagine the distress it caused my poor mother.
Grow up Martin, for christs sake.
Cut to 3am(ish) Monday morning, and find myself huddled under a tree in a field somewhere, pissing down with rain, one step from hypothermina, barely able to focus, wracked with pins and needles, strange colours and shapes floating in front of my eyes.....anyway...you get the drift. After two hours of stumbling around (I could hardly walk - and I had a terrific pain in my lower back - kidneys probably) to make the 3 minute walk home. Slumped into my bed, at 5:05 (I remember the time, because it was the first time my eyes focused), unable to think let alone sleep, counting down the seconds till my liver packed in or I had to get up for work, whichever was sooner. The amount of shit I've poured into my liver I'm continually astonished I'm still alive.
There you go. This isn't a one off. I've done it before. There was no suicidal intention....I just.....well....did it. WTF ? You can imagine the distress it caused my poor mother.
Grow up Martin, for christs sake.