I am by far, the worst human being on a hangover. My neediness is matched only by ability to complain. What sleep I can get, is broken by my intolerable snoring, which gradually climaxes its intensity and wakes me up. 

The 400 hundred cigarettes I chain smoked the previous night are echoed with what words I can muster in a feable attempt to communicate with anyone in close proximity. 

The £3,000 I spend on fast food to try and help my soul recover, fruitlessly never works. It is literally a visual metaphor of me eating my painful emotions. 

The deals with God, who ironically I don’t believe in, to get better and forget about all the poor choices I made. I become a true believer when I have a hangover. I talk to him in my head, apologise for not believing.  My head is a strange place to be, it worstens on a hangover!

The emotional rollercoaster of a hangover really dips when you check last nights messages and calls. Fortunately I haven’t been too bad (for me) recently but there were the days I would ring my ex in floods of tears and leave painfully cringy voicemails or odd self loathing but needy texts. The numbers you find you have saved on your phone, “Wendy – kebab shop”. Who the hell is wendy? 

Now of course we have snapchat, so naturally I get to share with the world my pain, my abused bodies misery! 

So how did today’s hangover go, well let me show you what my snapchat story entailed of…
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The awakening, now you can clearly see in my eyes the suffering I am currently having to deal with, matched only by the confused of trying to digest the fact I have such a heavy hangover. There’s a clue to how fucked up I am and that is the green writing, I hate the colour green. 

Fortunately for me, my flatmate is nothing short of an absolute hero. He made me an expresso. This ironically kept me from trying to sleep my way through the pain but  who doesn’t love a coffee in the morning?! 

The next stage of the hangover, is when the alcohols effects seem to have wore off, which is what I imagine dying feels like, except a hangover is more painful and you can only die once. 

Look at me, I am a pale, hungover silver fox. Snapchat need some filters that are going to help a brother out, not make it worse!

So naturally, this snapchat is more of a subtle plea for help with a hint of humour that brain tried to muster. Thus begins my neediness for the day. I really need someone to come round and give me a cuddle. Like full on, need my hair stroking, water fetching and to be told everything is going to be okay! 

If your recommendation is to get a girlfriend, please refer to previous dating blogs! Haha

This line that I cast, failed, probably because it’s Monday and everyone is in work. Or probably because who the Fuck wants to be around a hungover mess ? 

My mother didn’t raise a quitter, being ambitious in life, I decided to give everyone a second chance to grab this opportunity of a day with hungover me. This time I made sure the lighting was better at that my plea was more genuine than it was vogue. 

Alas, it was not meant to be. This fight was mine and mine alone. 

The night before is kind of starting to come back to me at this point. I am fairly certain I witnessed some sort of abduction or it could of been a “grabbing”, like the gypsies do, I don’t remember anyone raising any alarm bells so it could of been something different. Regardless, it left me bewildered for half an hour. 

 I check my snapchat and the last picture it had was glow in the dark gin. I don’t like gin so this could explain why I felt like there was a war going on in my head! 

So I eventually decide to do the only thing I know how to do, eat. Thanks to a helpful delivery app, my food is with me within 20 minutes and the first takeaway of the day has arrived. The issue I now have, leaving my apartment. It’s going to be tricky!

Dressing like a hungover hobo that’s just found someone’s holiday suitcase is quite an easy look to achieve for me, not sure why I felt the need to take a selfie in the lift but that’s all part and parcel of a hangover for me. Questionable decisions both drunk and hungover. 

Once I have my takeaway, my lunch time takeaway I might add, the carbonated drinks are doing a number on my IBS and I find myself just staring in to space, thinking about every decision I have ever made in my life that led to this hangover. 

Deep and weird is what I call this stage.

At least my imaginary girlfriend was on hand once more to nurse me back to health.  

After my take out I decided to have a nap which was really ropey. I woke up craving a Chinese and longing for the day to be over. 

The nap really hasn’t helped, just further propelled me in to a state of purgatory. It’s at this point I’m getting shit from my friends about the dumb decisions I made the night previously. Why are you all texting me now to tell me? Just get it out the way in the morning so I can mourn it just like the part of my soul that seems to die with a hangover. It’s like the anxiety of seeing you have called or text someone you shouldn’t all over again. 

Fun fact. My parents have to ask me not to ring them when I am drunk. 

Anyway when I finally decided what film to watch I decided to order a Chinese. Yes, second takeaway of the day. I am a monster.

I have to go through the entire process of dressing like a hobo just to leave the apartment again. 

The Chinese makes me feel worse and dirty. Nothing good has come of it and I barely ate any of it. The worst £20 I could of possibly spent. 

That’s my hangover day, they are all pretty much similiar, the anxiety varies depending how bad my decision making was the previous night. 

Probably about as good as my karaoke…

Love ya

Bry X