Madisgram - I share many of the same memories as you, but will add a few more.

Coming to on the floor of my apartment, not knowing if it was morning or night, blood everywhere and a broken nose.

Coming to, not able to figure out where all the blood in my bed had come from until I went into the living room and saw my pedal harp on the floor and realised I had a giant cut on my butt from one of the pedals.

And although it seemed funny at the time, in hindsight it wasn't, identifying all the pubs I wanted to drink in, in Dublin, prior to my trip and marking them on my tourist map so that I could figure out the most efficient route to hit everyone. Talk about a waste.

But most of all dying inside and knowing I was killing myself, and not knowing how to stop the cycle.

splitimage