I woke up feeling as if I had just run a marathon. I couldn't fathom why my brain had decided to run my life story past in this manner. But then, as soon as I tried to reflect on what had been presented to me, it evaporated like mist and I was wide awake with little awareness of myself and my recent life. I had a repeat of the strange dizzy feeling I had experienced in the park, only this was much worse. I staggered to the bathroom and was sick in the toilet. Then I lay on the floor and tried to regain my senses. Some sort of survival mechanism kicked in and I passed out.
By the time I regained consciousness I could hear people in the hallway outside going down to breakfast. I felt very weak but managed to run a bath and ease myself in. I didn't trust myself to shave but I felt a bit better and vigorously brushed my teeth.
I managed to get through breakfast without any involved conversations and went straight out. I didn't feel dizzy any longer but I felt weird in some indefinable way. I was overwhelmed with a sense of gloom, as if an imminent disaster were about to befall me and I could do nothing to prevent it. My thoughts were very confused and I felt the need to hide away out of sight of humanity, but I couldn't go back to my room for another five hours.
Some vestigial memory told me that alcohol was the solution to all my problems but no pubs were open yet. I went to a supermarket and, in yet another instance of some part of my brain working independently and against the rest of me, bought a bottle of brandy and some paper cups. Going back to the park where I had had the first dizzy attack I went into a heavily wooded area and made myself a little nest. I settled down next to a high wall behind some trees and bushes. Nobody could see me unless they also fought their way through the foliage so I was safe. I filled one of the tiny paper cups with brandy and started drinking.
Alarm bells were ringing somewhere in my head but it was hard to pick them out amongst everything else that was going on in there. Thinking was hurting my head so I needed to stop thinking. It wasn't comfortable enough to sleep there so the drinking would have to do for now. I gave no thought as to what would happen when I returned to the bed and breakfast that afternoon after consuming a neat bottle of brandy, nor what effect it would have on the physical ailment I was clearly suffering from. Just as twenty five years earlier I gave no thought to what drinking fifteen pints of lager a day was doing to me. I couldn't give any thought to anything any longer – I had nothing left to give, not even a thought.
Time seemed of no importance in my little green nest. I just sat there and drank. I dozed off for a while and woke to discover an empty bottle. My watch told me that it was nearly half past twelve. I stood up and, not unnaturally, found it hard to move about. I remembered a shop nearby that sold hiking equipment and, slowly and carefully, I walked there and purchased a metal walking stick. It made me walk slightly lopsidedly but at least it would prevent me from falling over if I had another dizzy spell.
I wondered if they would serve me in a pub or if I would seem too drunk. I deliberately chose the grottiest looking pub and hoped that the stick would make them think I had some serious mobility problem that accounted for any wobbliness. The man behind the bar didn't bat an eyelid as I ordered a pint of Guinness and steak and chips – my money was as good as anyone else's.
If I was going to be drinking then clearly Guinness was a much more sensible option than brandy. The food sobered me up enough for me to consume another four pints, by which time I felt in need of a good sleep. I managed to make my way up the stairs to my room without encountering anybody and gratefully collapsed onto the bed.
If I dreamt that night then I remembered nothing when I woke up. Maybe my brain had just given up trying to tell me anything, knowing that what was about to happen was simply inevitable.