Sutton
My time in Ballinasloe, I thought of a hundred things Most of a depressive nature. The roads not less travelled but blindly staggered upon. People who’d been kind to me and I had abused so very badly.
A reckless disregard for the feelings of others. Oh yeah. I had a shitload of guilt. Add a dash of remorse and gallons of self-pity, you had the classic alcoholic in all his tarnished glory.
Outside, I dealt with this baggage through drink. Just blot those suckers way on out. Numb the pain. The paradox being that each fresh numbness trailed fresh damage in its wake.
Behold a pale rider, tanked to the gills
The first few hospital days, the time of detox, you were encouraged to drink lots of water. Flush those toxins away. I could do that You had a blood test to calculate the damage
