drink doom
another way to describe ‘the fear’ that lands like a sick and all consuming dread the day after excessive drinking. the feeling of guilt, shame and dread that calls into question your behaviour the previous evening (even if you remember it being impeccable) and indeed stirs anxiety about every previously content aspect of your life – from your work/academic ability to the faithfulness or desire for you of your partner. one of the truly great evils of the world.
lucy was unable to surface from beneath the duvet, crushed by the certainty of drink doom that she had taken part in satanic rituals, sh-gged her boss in front of a crowded bar and walked naked down sauchiehall street in front of all her exes and a plethora of horrified maiden aunts… the truth that she had simply had one prosecco too many, thrown up in her own loo and forgotten to remove her make up was elevated to the belief in the first chain of events by the strength and weight of her drink doom… n-body could or would ever love her. she was an inhuman beast.
the fear
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