Not hungover

Last Monday, I was walking into work in the autumn sunshine without the slightest hint of a hangover when a little voice whispered to me, “The next time you want to get high, remember this feeling. The feeling that you can take on anything and nothing is too hard. That the world is beautiful and you have a place in it because you’re valuable and useful and worthy.”

And you know what? It kind of worked last night. I was out at this awesome dance party and everyone was getting high. I wanted to as well but I also didn’t, remembering how good I felt earlier in the week and all. I went to the bathroom to split an MDMA cap with a friend and, as I looked at the little brown crystals, I thought, ‘I don’t want to ruin this night by getting high and blacking out.’ So I gave 90% of the cap to my friend and only ate a tiny bit, which didn’t do anything. Which was exactly what I wanted.

Now, of course, a better outcome would’ve been to never have done any of the MDMA at all but baby steps, my friends, baby steps. The main thing here is that I didn’t get fucked up. I didn’t black out. I remember the whole night and I got home at a semi-reasonable hour and am not hungover today (even though I definitely had a few drinks). A bit tired, yes, but not hungover. And so I will have a nap, have some food and then go out into the world and get stuff done (namely going to the art biennale on Cockatoo Island) and feel good about myself.

I would say I’ve turned a corner but I think it’s too early to call it.

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