The Famous Fear

Hi all, a late night post from me today…

This post was one I originally posted a couple of days ago on my blog: . I felt it was appropriate to post here after my latest post about PTSD and the amazing support I have received from posting it!

So please, have a read at my latest ramblings…
‘The Fear’
Means a lot of different things to a lot of different people.

I’m sure it’s not just a Scottish thing, everyone’s bound to have had ‘The Fear’ at some point – mines usually occurs the morning after a fabulous night of mixing Gin, Wine and Café Patron seeming like the best idea known to man and making me believe I was also the funniest person alive with dance moves like Beyoncé.

‘The Fear’ generally follows these fabulous nights out and taints them, ever so slightly.

You know that feeling, right? The one where you wake up in the morning, have those couple of minutes of praising yourself for what a fabulous night you had, how you can remember everything and weren’t you just so well behaved?

Then, the headache begins to kick in.
Your stomach starts to turn.
Your legs and arms suddenly seem a bit sore.
Finally, your brain kicks in and…
Oh my God, did I really have a dance off last night, complete with an attempt at twerking and a whole lot hair whipping?

Sure, we can sometimes manage to shake this off, the more confident of us can even cover it up with a ‘Who cares? You only live once’ and pretend they’re not even in the slightest bit embarrassed (complete lies, for the most part). For the rest of us though, ‘The Fear’ usually only intensifies throughout the day.

Certain things trigger it, checking your phone usually being the first. 45 calls to my sleeping boyfriend, complete with a text message about how he can’t possibly love me anymore because he can’t come and pick me up, who cares that it’s four in the morning and you have work tomorrow? Not drunk me, that’s who.

This used to be the phones only horrible reminder, not even a couple of years ago, now with addition of Snapchat the hangover game has been completely changes.
A new type of fear has been created.
Now, not only can your friends have fabulously unflattering photos of you, diabolical videos of your (at the time) ‘sexy’ dance moves and recordings of your angelic voice that actually sounds more like a fox crying for help.
Now, thanks to Snapchat these memories can be shared with everyone in not only your contact list but also your friends and whoever else videoed or snapped the incident. Instantly.
What a fabulous invention.
I think not.
The story element of Snapchat that allows such sharing should be disabled when you drink.

So anyway, back on point.

You’ve been brave enough to check the texts, endure the Snapchat stories and you’ve even managed to venture to a mirror to check your glowing reflection, complete with sick in your hair and last nights face paint.

Class and elegance personified, obviously.

After the obligatory scrub of the face you now have to venture downstairs, where even the dog seems disappointed in you. Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic feeling that, I’m sure we’ll all agree.
You find your shoes at the bottom of the stairs – trip hazard in your delicate state. Oh, and there’s your bag (thank god) lying in the hall.
Quick check of that reveals you have money left (winner, winner), the quickest burst to that bubble though is that your drunkself only seems to have been able to use notes so you’re now the proud holder of no less than 43 pound coins!
This is all followed by the obligatory chat with your mum and dad, trying to pretend you’re not hungover but also craving sympathy as if you’re on your death bed.
Lastly, due to having the best mum in the world this whole ordeal is put to bed (literally, everyone needs a good nap to get rid of a hangover) after a sympathetic fry up that you live in fear of sicking back up.
This all, in all, is a rough snapshot of my experience of one sort of Fear.

The point of this blog, although thinly veiled with the hilarious tale of how I used to spend most Sundays (sometimes Saturdays too, I know too wild), is to attempt to explain how posting my last blog felt.
The only thing that first post caused me for the first couple of days after sharing it was unquantifiable fear.
Honestly ‘The Fear’ had nothing on the fear I had after sharing it.

People then might think, well why share it in the first place your complete eejit?

Well, you see… The Fear I had after posting the blog definitely had some similarities to ‘The Fear’ because both of them, with a little time, a chat with your family and a hilarious dissection of events with your closest friends caused the Fear to disappear.

The outcome of that blog post has been something I never imagined.

People have read it, actually read it! People I love, people that love me back, people I know, people I’ve not spoken to in years, people I speak to every other day and people that have never met me before. Strangers.

Absolutely mental.

I’ve had so much positivity sent my way (and offers of lunch dates which everyone loves, right?) and I feel extremely grateful.

It took me a couple of days to get back to people, I’m not going to lie, that’s largely due to the fact that straight away after posting I turned my phone off – The Fear had well and truly set it in. Of course anyone that knows me will also be calling bullshit because I never reply to anything very quickly, even under the most normal circumstances.

That Thursday night was anything but normal.
The weekend that followed was much the same.

That initial blog has opened the door for some conversations I might never, ever have had with the people I love most in the world and I’ll be forever grateful for that too.

I think from here on in I’ll have the fear every time I post something new to this blog.

I’m okay with that though because every time I share something, I think the fear will get less and less.

And in my experience, after sometime has passed, you gain a new perspective of situations that caused you so much fear.

You learn from them and ultimately a lot of my most fabulous memories are of situations (and a whole lot of nights out) that caused me fear for a few days after.

Another long blog… Sorry again!

I would promise they’ll get shorter but that might be a lie and I don’t want my nose to get any bigger than it is.

Anyways, another small part of my life I felt like sharing from my little bubble in my room – fully dressed with my hair washed today not that anyone cares to know but this is a proper improvement from the state I was sitting in front of my laptop the other week when I wrote my last blog – I hope it made at least a little sense.

As always, feel free to read, share, laugh, cry (although hopefully not), take whatever you want from my ramble of words.

I’ll be back again very shortly I think, sitting here typing away is helping me much more than I ever thought it could.

Stay fabulous,
Roisin xoxo
Blog belongs to and was originally post on: – please have a  look!

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