Day 1

That old cliché, take it day by day....The morning (or in my case the midday) after the night before.
Was at work in my bar. For a change I didn't actually drink much during work. S was with her best girlfriend in the club next door. We'd had our problems and weren't a pair anymore but we were getting on ok. Had a couple of drinks and then there was a case of mistaken identity and I went for the guy in such an aggressive way. There were enough people to stop the situation escalating I apologised later and everything was good, but the damage was done. S had seen a side of me which not even I knew and quickly left and went home, refusing to talk to me.

I consider myself to be a nice, friendly guy, and this kind of action is not in my nature. But it happened and the next day I went through the standard mix of feelings: shame, disgust, fear (of myself and repurcussions), and sadness. I would never intentionally hurt someone, especially not S, but I had done so.

Later, she came to collect her belongings, and seeing her in this horrible situation broke my heart. The one person whose love and friendship I wanted more than anything else was disgusted by the monster which she briefly saw. As was I.

After she had gone I went into my bar, sat down for 10 minutes, the most miserable boy in town,  and almost automatically poured myself a whisky to drown my sorrows. For some reason my brain decided to work and I poured the whisky away without taking a sip. Why on earth did I want to prolong the agony with the cause of the agony? To a "normal" person this doesn't sound very impressive, but I was pleasantly surprised and a little proud, too. One small step for mankind, one giant leap for me. I went home and decided it was finally time to take action.

I thought about writing a diary in book form and sending S a copy on a regular basis but the idea of logging my "battle" in such a private way didn't seem to provide the kind of motivation I needed. That's how the idea of the blog came about. Although I'm anonymous here, the idea of publishing my diary to a potentially huge audience. Instead of simply letting myself and the people who know me (and those who have had the misfortune of meeting me in a pissed off, drunk state) down, I could be disappointing thousands, millions, billions of people (I'm being somewhat optimistic).

Ironically (well, not really that ironic), I felt too hungover on day 1 of my diary to write anything constructive. So, with new optimism, I've started on day 2. The first day was spent wallowing in self-pity. Wouldn't have been a good state to start writing...