Hola Sober

I mute the group I am compelled to scroll through the hundred and fifty messages exchanged whilst I was asleep. Often the messages are from some nightclub with one particular troubled woman sending pictures of her nose asking the girls if she’s left any ‘lemo’ visible. Good friends that they are they reassure her she has not or alternatively guide her to where she has indiscreetly left some white cocaine.. Jobs a gooden. What good friends they are. I hate it. I now watch as they grieve for the loss of the friend that I can only appreciate from the position of another human rather than that of a close friend, and as they pour out their grief they pour the booze. I am constantly reminded that I do not belong here, they are not my tribe but I can’t get out! But more than that I am troubled by the carnage and the absolutely predictable outcomes of it all. I was troubled when my friend was asking me to go to the funeral. I honestly could not think of anything worse. Not because I dislike funerals, weirdly I don’t. I know their purpose and can do them no problem, however, I could not see it being a good thing for me to go. The outsider some weird little woman just watching on as everyone grieves in real- time and I am like ‘hey, hi, sorry for your loss’, just plain fucking weird. The weirdness of it all makes total sense to me, but I feel like I can’t say no. Four hundred people at the funeral and me, who didn’t even know her. I do not belong there. But I was scared to say no . Scared to tell my friend I wasn’t goin g. When I die I don’t want lots of people there, I don’t want a massive rave and I have a list with my family of those who absolutely cannot attend if I died,

My notion is if they don’t like me while I am alive they sure as hell will not be eating my death buffet! So I am perplexed by the whole ordeal (that’s all I can call it). After several days of feeling like the weirdo watching peoples grief and the planning of the party of a lifetime (her funeral) from my Iphone-11, I was of course completely separate from it all. So I decided to take a stand. I have one life and I am not going to do things that don’t sit right with me. Initially I was going to tell lies to my friend that ‘I couldn’t get time off work’ and all kind of elaborate things ran through my head. But in the end I just told the truth. . I told her that I had reflected on whether to attend funeral and I had decided that as I didn’t know her so well I wasn’t going to go. Also that the only reason I wanted to go (the one) would be to support my friend, but that as there are four hundred people going I was (more than) reassured she would be well looked after. And that was that. She was fine, I was fine, and actually I was more than fine, I was pleased with myself for owning my truth. The thought of lingering in the background of someone’s funeral like a little weird clinger on’er was too much and I listened to my gut and my heart, and I felt like a good weirdo and owned that shit . If being weird means acceptance of myself then I am happy to be weird. On the funeral day as I watch the party that ensued for this woman who liked a good party in life I was constantly reminded that I didn’t belong, but also that I didn’t want to belong.

The morning after the funeral, as I woke up at 5 a.m. for my Miracle Morning the group texts were aplenty from the night before . At six AM a text from one woman saying to my friend ‘I am just leaving your garden now’ made me feel thankful, grateful, and sorry for the woman who for the next few days will pour out onto the group text that she is suicidal and will never do it again. It is hard to unsee all of the benefits that drinking brings, and this is no exception. There was not one ounce of fear of missing out (FOMO). Many women on the text commented that they are ‘rattling’, they’ve called in sick to work. Their kids had to be picked up. And many of them will claim that they are suffering from their mental health in the coming days and I will continue to watch the misery unfold until I can pluck up the courage to leave. I am not sure what I am worried about as no one actually gives a fuck about me. And that is ok. But for now, I will bide my time.

Lots of Love, Emma ❤️

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