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Great Writing - Home > Non-Fiction > Diary of a Bacchanal (Pt.2) - 480 words
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Non-Fiction
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| Diary of a Bacchanal (Pt.2) - 480 words | |
| By Talisker | ||||
| 07 November 2006 | ||||
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We're still on the straight and narrow. Diary of a Bacchanal Pt.2 7th November 2006 Weight 283lbs Alcohol Units: Nil Last night was filled with sweaty nightmares. Poor Weasel must have been demented with my tossing and turning. There just didn’t seem to be a comfortable position. But I survived, discovering again that the sun does also rise. Now, at two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon, thirty-eight blessed hours since my last drink, how do I feel? Physically, there’s no discernible improvement yet. Clearly that’s going to take longer. Mentally, I can already feel the thrill of possibility. There is already something to hang onto, an achievement, a tiny one, yet significant in the life of Oli Lodge. I rose at 7.00 a.m. as usual to make Weasel her packed lunch and prepare her breakfast of cereal, orange juice and tea. Throughout my “troubles” I’ve maintained this routine. I saw it as a reason to live at one point – now it’s automatic. Downstairs, let the dogs out to pee, looked after Weasel’s breakfast and lunch, took my medication, waved them off from the upstairs window, then back to bed for an hour or so. This seems to let the cocktail of drugs settle a bit before I try to do anything. No vague hangover this morning though, tired for sure, but fresher than of late. I extracted an undertaking from the long suffering Weasel last night. “Please don’t ask much of me whilst I do this”, I begged – then explained about my undertaking, this diary, and the whole deal. “If I appear to be doing nothing”, I continued, “I’m not. I’m stopping drinking, and that’s a very big thing for me to do. It needs all my attention”. I felt a cad for asking this, but I know from previous failures that the whole thing can be scuppered by well meaning concern. You know “paint the kitchen, clear the garage, clean the bathroom, why haven’t you shaved?” All very reasonable under normal circumstances, and all OK if the cold turkey gets an urge to do them, but under duress, nothing is surer than that such gentle “nagging” will lead to a negative frame of mind, and alcohol consumption. One thing put a smile on my face first thing this morning. I heard on Radio Scotland news that the well meaning Strathclyde Fire Service have released a fire safety leaflet in Urdu, for the growing population in the area for whom this is the main language. Unfortunately, they got their mucking Urdu words fuddled. What they meant to say was “if trapped upstairs, throw a mattress from the window to soften your landing when jumping”. Their Urdu actually translated as “cast your donkey from the window to aid your escape”. Parliamo Glasgow? That’s all for now folks. I’m acclimatising at base camp and I’m feeling very positive and hopeful. Cloud is clearing from the higher slopes. Oli
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