I can’t leave the house

I am not manic and I am not depressed. I will admit that I am very up and down, but I think that has more to do with my BPD tendencies and caffeine and weed addictions.

However recently I find that I cannot bring myself to leave the house. Since the 14th of February when I went out drinking, to speed dating, I have only left the house on two occasion. Once to visit a relative and pick up some weed (it is a problem, I know), and once on a 15 minute car journey with my mum.

Now I know exactly what could be the cause of this, but I barely have it in me to write it down here, but I will anyway.

I was drinking the dreaded prosecco at speed dating and it is safe to say it definitely goes to my head and triggers some sort of demon in me.

After downing a lot (and I mean a lot) of prosecco I found myself wandering the street in a depressed state. I had visions of climbing up a scaffolding and throwing myself off of it. However I came across a nice homeless man who spoke to me in my crisis. He reassured me that I was not the only one feeling this way in the world, and that the feeling would pass.

The homeless man and I were getting quite deep into a conversation when a group of men around the age of 20 began throwing toilet rolls at the homeless man. That was it for me, I snapped.

I charged after the group of men and began shouting at them, threatening them, and even attempting to drop kick them (I may have participated in martial arts but I cannot drop kick to save my life). I was absolutely awful that night as a person and I was full of rage and all of these violent tendencies which I do not usually experience.

Somehow my argument with the men and me attempting to drop kick them had turned the entire street into a war zone. Other people were getting involved and I cannot for the life of me remember what happened in the end because a friend picked me up in his car and I just walked off, leaving the war zone behind me.

Since that day I have not been able to go out drinking with friends or even socialise soberly. I saw a part of myself that I have never seen before and it scared the hell out of me. Yes, I was sticking up for the homeless man, but with violence? I have vowed to never drink again but to hopefully regain some sort of sober social life, as all this time now spent in doors is killing me.

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