I’m Going Running Through Europe To Try To Find Myself And Avoid Angela Merkel
Hello fuckers. I’m going on tour.
I’ve booked the Eurostar to Brussels for this afternoon and I’m off to the European mainland for a few weeks where I’ll be running in different cities and staying in hostels for shits and giggles.
I haven’t ever been a sober holiday before as an adult. This is going to be a new experience and one that I’ll be taking day by day. I’m fucking terrified in some ways that I’ll drink. I’ve been hiding away from the world for so long that this just feels like too much of a challenge. But it won’t be if I just keep it about today.
I won’t be drinking today in Brussels even if I’m sharing a dorm with Angela Merkel who is wearing a ski mask, swigging openly from a bottle of Liebfraumilch and calling me and all my ancestors cunts.
Keeping an eye on my addictive self.
I can tell I’m pretty fucked up by how my mind tries romanticising drinking on these breaks away. It concentrates on the heady wine balcony nights and not on the mornings I spent hungover with ring sting so bad I could barely walk. Where the only ‘answer’ was to drink more to feel better at lunch. Fucking grim.
Every time my addictive personality stirs it comes seemingly as innocent as hell to me with shit like “You’ve been sober now 4 months. You can have just one glass of wine. Remember the good times? One glass and you’ll be free.” My response to that is “Fuck you, you cunt. It’s never just one glass. I am free now.”
I’ll let the fear of drinking fuel my vigilance.
I’ve no need to drink. I am OK as I am.
I only started drinking as I didn’t feel OK within myself. Now I’m at the age where I have to be OK with myself as the alternative doesn’t work. Drinking just to be is very fucking dangerous. Taking any drug just to function is hell on earth.
So I have to be OK with just being and I’m willing to do anything to defend that. Even if it comes to punching Angela Merkel in the head if she tries to pour Liebfraumilch down my neck in my Brussels dorm.
I’m packing light. I’m not taking my laptop with me. I’m bringing my tablet, my phone, 4 pairs of jeans, 3 pairs of shorts, 8 t-shirts, underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste, passport, my Garmin, chargers, an adapter, my shower sponge, a compass and a whistle. I’ll only bring the shoes I am wearing now. I’ve no time for fucking about with 18 different pairs for 18 different terrains.
If I could get away with just bringing one of everything I’d do it. That’s the ultimate dream. I hate being weighed down by baggage. I want to be free. I want to be free of the thoughts that weigh me down too. The past can completely fuck off for now.
I’m not under any illusion that I’m gonna find the meaning of life through this trip. I want to expand my mind and my horizons. I don’t even know if I’ll meet or talk to any people. My social skills are shit. I’m OK up until we get past the “how’s it going” and then I just freeze and want to say something stupid.
Here is my planned route so far. It will change.