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I went out out, it was pants. Social life + anxiety = shit (not literally)

So I had a date in my diary for going out out. A proper grown up night out on the tiles, alcohol and heels, pre arranged auntie to monster sit, painted my nails and bought cheap jewellery and EVERYTHING! Perfecto! 


Monster in bed, make up on my face, hair spray in my hair, high heels on my feet, meet girly friends, walk to bar and…panic! Argh! It took me 15 minutes to order an alcoholic beverage, not because there was a queue at the bar – I was having an internal argument, it carried on until I got in a taxi home that night. 


I know drinking alcohol on antidepressants can go all kinds of wrong. But 1 or 2 like at home would be ok wouldn’t it? After 15 minutes I had managed to order vodka. Wahay! Go me! 

Next place, next vodka. I didn’t go to the bar – problem solved I thought. Why am I so old? Everyone looks about 15 in here? Have we come to a teenie boppers night out? Where’s the 25+ bar? Damn if I could sing and had the ego for X-factor I’d be in the overs category. Geeze. Panic substides a little as I am sat on the edge of conversation, trying to add in when I can. Dance floor time? Really? Getting elbowed by flappy shit dancers, some wacko whose probably sniffed a load of rat poison trying to grind on every one and lick them (I know! I’m glad I have my hep b jab!) and drinks splashed over my feet. I haven’t even taken my coat off yet, I’ve adopted the awkward smile side step shuffle. I’ve gotta get out of here. Fight or flight kicked in, leave leave leaving! Before I exit the dance floor I’m bawling my eyes out. what the fuck?! Get a grip woman. People giving me funny looks like I’m a ‘drunk on wine’ emotional wreck! 

I book myself a taxi and leave asap, I tried not to ruin everyone else’s fun. Panic attack? Anxiety attack? Goodness knows. When I look in the mirror my eyes are puffier than our fare inherited goldfish. I’m deflated at my attempt of a night out, why me?! 

Well, now I’m shitting a brick because this weekend I’m off to a gig. Yeah that’s right, a freaking arena tour. Anxiety kicked in a couple of days ago and I’m freaking out about the crowds. I’m on antidepressants, they are supposed to kick anxiety in the balls. 

Anyway I’m rambling now. I haven’t written a post in a loooooong time. I will try harder I promise! 

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