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Each week I read Will’s Panic Room breakdowns with curiosity, and I must admit, the smallest amount of jealousy. You see, I never knew what the Sunday Scaries were. Sure, I knew what they were, but my work schedule isn’t bracketed along your typical Monday to Friday 9 to 5, so I never really exprienced the anxiety that a fresh work week could cause. That is, until now.
We were slow all last week. Between the unpredictable weather and everyone’s holiday obligations no one was beating down the door to get in 18 holes, so I mentally checked out around 4 p.m. Wednesday. In a rare moment of sanity, we decided to close the course for New Year’s, which meant come 1 p.m. Saturday I had nowhere to be and no obligations to fulfill until 6:30 Monday morning. I had two bottles of champagne the capital R roommate bought a couple weeks ago for my birthday on the off chance we might break our 300 day streak of falling asleep by midnight (we didn’t), so I was looking forward to opening those as well as the litany of other alcohol I received for my birthday and Christmas.
Fast forward through a quiet NYE at home that kept the streak intact, and I awoke at 8 a.m. Jan 1 ready to tear 2017 a new one. The champagne sat innocently in the fridge, unopened and laughing at me for not being popped the previous year, so I opened a bottle and proceeded to get a mimosa going to occupy a hand while I cooked breakfast. Orange juice got swapped for beer for my mimosa, and one became six, and by noon I was sloshed. Again, fast forward, this time through a champagne black out, and it’s now 6 p.m. Sunday Jan. 1st, 2017. Eighteen hours into the first day of the new year, and all I have to show for it is bed head and a splitting headache.
All the plans I had for my day off are gone. Sneaking onto the course for some isolated practice? Forget it. There’s 10 minutes of sunlight left. Quiet day at the house spent catching up on all the reading I haven’t had time for? That ship sank when I lost the ability to see clearly, which was around 11 a.m. Taking the ole cow dog for a run? She’s at the other end of the couch staring at me with disappointment in her eyes.
As I stumbled outside to see the sun sinking behind the clouds, and the full gravity of not only my mistake but how long I would have to wait to try to rectify it started to hit me. I felt it. An anxious, cold, hollow panic that began with my hangover and increased with each realization of what tomorrow would bring. The Sunday Scaries. After months of speculating if I’d ever really felt it, now I finally know what inspired a column, a t-shirt, and weekly tweets to Will deFries of candlelit living rooms. No thanks. I never want to experience that again. I’ve been up at 3 a.m. on page 3 of a 20 page final paper due at 9 the next morning and haven’t felt that combination of anxiety and panic.
I wanted to crawl back in bed and pray for Death to come sweep me up in his arms and take me away from this hell I had created for myself. My mind kept repeating everything I did from the time I got off to work to now, which was nothing but drinking and eating, and then berating me with how quickly 6:30 was going to come and how soon my work week was going to start. How do y’all do this each week? How do you stand the self loathing, the regret, the anxiety over what awaits you a mere twelve hours from now? Are candles, sweatpants, wine and Netflix really that potent against your own self induced cesspool of poor decisions and looming professional obligations?
To cope, I took the capital R roommate to Collateral Beauty (highly recommend), snuck Whataburger into said movie (also recommend) and bought a couple glasses of Messina Hof Beau to accompany my Whataburger.
Hopefully, I got my Scaries out of the way for 2017. I don’t want to say I’m glad I experienced them, because I wouldn’t wish that kind of misery on anyone. I’m glad though that when I read the column Monday morning I’ll have a little more understanding, a little more empathy for the battle you guys fight each week. Stay strong y’all. .
Image via Shutterstock
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BBisgard45
Golf Pro in B/CS TX trying to trick the PGA into certifying me to give swing advice for a living.
@BrianBisgard
2 days into my “sober 2017” and I feel good but but anxious as all the college football creeps closer today. Keep me in your prayers homies
Are you going to spend the whole year sober? That’s next level commitment.
That’s the plan, will update if I’m able to make it past a month
Neither name checks out. Best of luck though!
I’m with you through the end of February. Hit a girl up if you need some support. You got this!
I feel you. Drinking some root beer today instead of beer beer. It has alcohol in it, but I just pretend it doesn’t.
I’m still hungover.
I’ve had about $1600 in lost wages over the last month and change, including today, because of weather. So, not off to a great start. But I’m really optimistic about 2017. I think I’m finally going to start a career I will be happy with and I can excel in.
Damn, what do you do for a living?
I lost my corporate job back in July because quite frankly I sucked at it and deserved to be fired. Since then, I have basically worked for a rancher that is WAY out in the sticks. Some days, a guy simply can’t get there because of storms or blowing snow or because the gravel roads are the last to be plowed.
Respect man. Do what you have to do to survive.
“Survive” probably isn’t the word for it honestly. It took me getting fired to realize how miserable I was. I lost like 25-30lbs with barely changing a thing. I think it was all stress induced. My wife and kids make note of how much happier I am around them. I make almost as good as money now as I did then. We had 10 days where it never got above zero degrees and worked outside during almost all of it. Never once did I miss my soul crushing cubicle. What does that tell you?
That you’re on the right track now. Best of luck in 2017.
I got a text from a girl I met on vacation here in North Carolina at 11:50 that she was actually going to come to the concert I invited her out to (she’s a bartender, so it seemed like it would be kinda dull to ask her out to a bar for new years), an hour and a half later, I still hadn’t heard anything from her telling me that she was on her way or that uber was slow, or that her ride was taking forever, and the band was done. So, I started the year being stood up. Can only get better from here, right?
I read this entire comment in Stanley’s voice thanks to your picture. It was humorous even though I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be. Maybe go do a crossword to cheer yourself up?
Who says I didn’t already? Also, ‘sup?
Feel ya. Got my worst case of scaries NYE day sitting at my desk (hospitality industry is terrible FYI) bored af at work. Legit worst day of the year for me; the reflection of the past year/s and the idea of where you’re headed in the new year and the milestones that are in 2017 year are awful, dealt with an upcoming 10 year high school reunion far better than I’m handling the looming big 3-0. Fucking terrified.
You getting the scaries that bad is karmic retribution for the “I want to get dumped” article. I hope your Roommate finds it
Wasn’t me who wrote that article, you’re misdirecting your voodoo there
That’s what I get for opening the app to fight a hangover. My apologies good sir
Please send all karmic retribution my way, thank you.