WARNING: This is a little on the melodramatic side, if you're one to quickly judge maybe just skip this post- you've been warned. 

This morning was a very hard hitting one for me; that sounds extremely dramatic, but that's what I'm known for and to me that's how it felt. I am definitely the type of person who bottles up all of their emotions and waits for that one defying moment to burst. How I deal with that burst is incredibly stupid and irresponsible but for me it seems to be the only way to help. To explain this situation a little more clearly here is a very brief summary of the past 24 hours. 

Yesterday was great! I had coffee and caught up with a few friends from back home, spent the day completely relaxed and chilled out. And then I read through and started responding to a few 'business' emails and realised how overwhelmed I was becoming so a friend and I went and had a super early dinner to get my mind off it. Because, at this point, I was feeling overwhelmed, a little scared and stressed out another friend and I decided it would be a great idea to have a few drinks. A few drinks then turned into a few bottles and before I knew it, it was only about 10pm and I was mixing drinks left, right and centre. Stupid, stupid girl. This wasn't the worst part. The worst part was this morning, sitting on a train for just under 2 hours feeling disgusting, disappointed and honestly justing being a f*#king mess. It's not a good look. It's not a good feeling. It took until around 12pm for this hangover to escape my body and I have to admit, even now I still feel exhausted. So, now I'm sat in a warm bath with a cup of tea watching The O.C. and I have to admit, this is much more therapeutic.

It's time likes these, the day after, when I question myself as to why I thought it was a good idea, what it helped and if I would do it again. Of course, from here people normally say "I'm never drinking ever again!" but to me that is an extremely unrealistic goal (for me at least) to set and to be completely honest, quite unnecessary (in many situations). [Remember, this is completely my own opinion - have your own opinion.] Therefore, rather than telling myself that I'm never allowed to drink again I feel as though limiting myself and being able to tell where my limit of having fun and being a complete idiot is. 

Apologies for the millionth rant post in a row, I'll do a Book Review of The End of Alice by A.M. Homes soon as I'm currently reading (and extremely enjoying) it. 
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