The 7 Awful Stages Of The Fear
The fear is, regrettably, a major part of the hangover 'experience'. Drink lowers your inhibitions, but the fear makes sure that the next morning you have to relive every shameful moment.
1. The blissful ignorance when you first wake up
This stage is the first few moments after you wake up. Your main concern will be how sore your head is, how dry your mouth is, and why you still have one leg in your jeans but somehow both shoes are still on.
2. The creeping dread as you remember the night before
You sit up and groggily drag yourself to the kitchen for a glass of water. You feel as though something's off, as though you've forgotten something. Then you begin to recall the night before.
3. The flash backs
The flash back hits you like a '98 Ford Fiesta. You recall yourself shuffling and stumbling about the pub like a concussed zombie. You remember the faces of everyone you talked to twisted into grimaces of disgust. You relive the hour you spent shite talking to that scared looking German.
Each new flash back causes shame to churn ever more intensely within your gut.
4. The sudden desperation for human contact
You pick up your phone and frantically type a message into your Facebook chat group, 'LOL dying', you implore.
The minutes tick by and there are no responses.
You boot up WhatsApp, 'I'm in BITS', you send to your best mate, it goes unanswered. All the while the flashbacks are still bombarding you with images of your gobshitery form the night before.
5. The resignation from any hope that your mates will talk to you again
Thinking back to the night before, you can see why your mates aren't replying to you, your animalistic behaviour has burnt any bridges and erased any good will they ever had for you.
You've made a pariah of yourself thanks to your drunken muck-savagery.
6. The acceptance that you'll be alone forever
This is your life now, all you can do is accept that you're an awful ham of a gobshite and learn to live with the shame and isolation.
You are a solitary being now, cut adrift from society by the shears of 15 pints.
7. The eventual recovery
Your phone buzzes, 'LOL me head is in bits'.
Sweet human contact! Your hands tremble with happiness you type your reply, 'LOL'. He messages you back, 'LOL'.
It's just like old times.
Your hangover slowly abates, you see hope for the future.
