Written 14 December 2018
Danielle was woken up by the smell of stale alcohol, sweat and tobacco smoke. Her skin wriggled and her joints ached. Her left hand had gone dead, and there was a searing pain in her right shoulder, so acute that if the rest of her body was aching dully she might scream. Her mouth was impossibly dry, what little moisture remained had created a paste with unknown skin cells, and she still had the remnant taste of tequila in her gums. Her head was in a vice, her sinuses being slowly squeezed into submission, and she had a queasiness in her stomach that somehow made her feel bloated and full, but also starving. She was freezing, yet sweat continued to excrete from everywhere, which just made her colder. She ran to the toilet, as her bladder was suddenly uncomfortably full. The suddenness of the departure made her gag and feel worse, and when she made it to her toilet, she quickly realised she didn't just need a wee as all of the previous night's consumptions poured out of her intestine. And as she sat there, head in hands, for 32 minutes she had an overwhelming feeling of guilt and remorse about some unknown theme or event from the night before. She was also acutely aware that in just 5 hours time she would need to leave the house to do it all again. The Christmas period was brutal.