Day 66: Nerves

Christ. I dunno if I can type after the stress of that game. After 66 days of sobriety the cocktail of emotions brought about by England's world cup penalty shoot-out against Colombia has left me a shaky, dribbly mess. And I don't even like football.

But I did as a child, and I had too many nights on the sofa next to my dad, my hands balled under me, tears streaming down my face, after the heartbreak of yet another penalty loss. I was five when we went out to West Germany in Italia 90, and I think that defeat hurt me on some fundamental level that I never recovered from, and informed my outlook while watching the national team pretty much ever since.

But tonight put that to rest. Oh did it put it to rest! Those young lads, and Gareth Southgate, have so much to be proud of right now. Whatever else happens, they can come home with their heads held higher than any England squad for a long time.

I'm so not into patriotism or tribalism or even outpourings of emotion in general; I tend to be a taciturn, reserved man -- but after that result even I have to let out just one, singular cry of COME ON ENGLAND!!!

Right. Enough of that. I've had a better day today. Thankfully I wasn't at work, and I could sleep late after staying up all last night after my shift trying to write something despite feeling utterly black. So I stayed in bed all this morning, and didn't sweat it, and tried to treat myself as kindly as possible. I don't want that blackness spreading. I can't let it, after how far I've come.

So I got up eventually, made coffee, ate breakfast, sat in the sun finishing the book I've been reading. I put washing on, then walked towards town with my camera and my headphones, listening to an episode of Stuff You Should Know, which is rapidly becoming an indispensable podcast in my life.

I found a pleasant coffee shop and sat in the tall, well-lit room drinking coffee and free-writing for a number of hours, then I walked to a park and meandered along the paths, the city noises muffled by the trees, the sunlight filtering through the green leaves, everything golden and serene and unworried.

Then I walked back up the hill and hung out my washing, read a little of my new book, and put the England match on. And then sat biting my nails for two and a half hours.

And now here we are. I'm going to go make a late tea, then try to get an early night. Easy does it. Tomorrow is another day.