Wednesday 18 January 2012

Warning! Mixed with alcohol makes you spin



I came downstairs this morning and ran straight back up again "Nail! There's a man downstairs! He was looking right at me!" Nail runs downstairs, and calmly back up again "Kerry it's the cleaner" the same cleaner that has been cleaning the corridors in five years.

Perhaps stopping Sertaline without reduction was a bad idea after all. I'm already starting to get the heebeegeebees (or as Nail said if ghosts were in the form of the Bee Gees they'd be the heebeebeegees) as I yesterday wondered if my cremated guinea pig Brave Barbara was still alive in her urn.

But I am sick and bored of what I turn into when I've had a drink since on Sertraline, imagine a premenstrual Angie Watts after injecting red bull. On Sunday I came downstairs to smashed glass in the kitchen, an angry boyfriend on the sofa, no memory past demanding Kareoke Duets on the stereo so I retrieved the evidence from a litre bottle of vodka which I expected to be half full to find it was almost full. I'm not thirteen anymore I don't fill bottles of spirits up to the mark with water to drink ten years later and get sick, I'm drinking small amounts, blacking out during which time I'm being more manic than Father Noel Furlong on speed with a fully charged batter up his...

Setraline affects everyone differently, pending dosage, combination with other meds, diagnosis etc.. so don't worry if you've just been prescribed them.

Ironically I'm researching Psychopharmological effects of alcohol on the brain for an article I'm writing on Dual Diagnosis. I had to have a nap after I cam across that word!

Pic is one of my latex and one of Nails' collectables' experiments. Thats what happens when you talk through Eastenders.

Thursday 12 January 2012

January Is The Month Of Lists



January is the month of lists, everyone is slowly crossing off (or out) their new years resolutions.
Women everywhere are keeping food diaries, brand new notebooks encourage the neatest hand writing, everyone has a plan, a new year goal, probably the same one as last year forgotton come May. As a listomaniac, January is a good month for me and I had my first session of CBT yesterday (first session, second time around) and my homework - yes homework, this is why I chose CBT over psychotherapy because I love being given homework. I don't necessarily do it but thats not the point - which was to write not just one list, but four, FOUR! I nearly tipped him an extra tenner. The list goes as follows..

1 - Write a realistic list of your short term goals

2 - Write a realistic list of your long term goals

and here's the fun part..

3 - Write an unrealistic list of you short term goals

4 - Write an unrealistic list of your long term goals

I literally ran out of that practice in Hackney, jumped on the Overground to Stratford and sprinted into John Lewis in Westfield Shopping Centre - which by the way is amazing, I've enjoyed having panic attacks in there more than anywhere else - and bought myself a brand new red leather CBT notebook. I did however go through the usual twenty minute to make a decision on the moleskin or not as there was a difference of three quid, go to the bar - yes they have a bar(s) - spend eight quid on two drinks deciding that an extra three pounds is two much and went back and bought the other.

When I got home last night, swaying, but still buzzing from list opportunity, I suggested to my partner that we write our own list of things we like and don't like about each other.

He didn't share my enthusiasm.

Good luck with your lists this month. x



Friday 6 January 2012

Chasing Moods - Soho House or Wetherspoons?


One of my favourite writing partners Andy Ross, the talent behind Food bands such as Blur, Jesus Jones, PWEI etc.. and I used to write about the music industry in swanky places such as Soho and Shoreditch House - the inspiration was in there propped up against bars with the fake laughter and gold cards - until we discovered a mutual fondness of  Wetherspoons and train station pubs, the ones where the light bulbs flicker and the place smells of bleach, and you can't help watching people. These are the people I fear becoming when I'm older - drinking alone all day, or, drinking with their partners but not exchanging a single word other than "Same again?" for four hours.

This is what I call "chasing moods" when I'm up I'm propped up at the bar in Soho House (no doubt filling in housing benefit forms - I like a good "Class Pick N Mix") and when I'm low you can find me in Wetherspoons. Who knows, on a 50/50 day you'll probably find me in the Asda Cafe!