Medicate yourself a merry little christmas

Posted: December 28, 2011 in Mental Health

I hate christmas, yeah I said it and dont care who’s offended by it either, I spent fortunes on people I dont like and food I’ll never eat just to maintain the traditional christmas for everyone else. I usually start to feel crap a fee days before and it can last for months afterwards, call it post christmas blues, chronic derpression whatever you like but it happens and I have to deal with it.

This year panned out differently and it wasnt half as bad as expected, and believe me when I say I expected it tob be really bad. Why? well funny you should ask as I do have an explanation. Its starts with the kind of shit luck I get every year, I’ll buy something anf find it cheaper within spitting distance or some other equally crappy demonstration that christmas hates me as much as I hate it. I take my son for some winter fun, some snow tubing anf tabogganing at the local ski slope, first of all its very cheap and secondly quite fun, he is frightened at the start and I fear i may have wasted the money but he gets into it and we are unstoppable by our fith go on the taboggan and thats where shit changes. I ride the thing exactley as I have four times previous and its going well until we hit the third corner where I do as before only to get tipped off of the sled and bang along the tube with my son held tightly between my legs trying to protect him and get away from anyone behind us, they wont see us and the collision would be epic, I somehow manage to get us right way up and on the sled and we get to the end of the ride with filthy clothes and sore shoulder but the boy is thrilled so I go home with a little pain and no thought s about it, just felt lucky he didnt get hurt and we walked away. fair enough.

As the day draws on my chest is hurting and my shoulder is throbbing, by the time \i collect the wofe from the train I am struggling to breathe and feeling pretty bad, my NHS direct App comes into its own as I work through it, they offer me a call which I accept and after a five minute chat I am on my way to A&E where I waste a few hours sitting around with more and more drunken revellers andf eventually get the news I already knew, I have broken the ribs and badly bruised the shoulder, some anti inflammatories in hand and permission to hit the Tramadol I go home to much sympathy and medication, whoppee.

Now if youve never been on trmadol its quite potent, it did very little for the pain but it did relax me and made the whole festive period into a spacy blur of gratitude and hugs. I do remember my presents and dinner but to be honest little else and certainly none of the bullshit fawning by relatives for their gifts which they no doubt bitched to each other about but sent inferior versions themselves. I have now used my supply of Tramadol so the ribs ache, the shoulder hurts and everyone now has a normal volums voice which cuts through my head like a laserbeam. To some my medicated christmas will be tutted about as some kiond of fanciful use of prescription medication like Micheal Jackson et al but as far as I’m concerned it made a crap event manageable and in doing so improved it for my family, who are the only people I really care whether they have a nice christmas anyway. Love and goodwishes to all man is crap and nothing shows this more than christmas when the fellow man is isolated and made to feel left out for a good week to ten days while everyone else includes their extended families who they would rather not see in everything they say and do.

With the medication wearing off and spight entering back into the fray I will say that I found the TV bareable under the influence, oh yeah I supplemented the drugs with alcohol, just some potent ginger beer and found this very agreeable, I may do so again in the future. So those of you who want one have a nice new years and those who’d rather not join in good luck to you in staying out of it, I will be with dear friends watching the kids have fun and then grissling cos theyve got to go to bed.

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