(to this day, one of my favorite songs)
I was supposed to be super busy this weekend. Of course, my husband and I’s schedules conflicted, and we tried to steal moments where we could. I was supposed to spend time on Saturday with friends, but my epic hangover prevented that.
All because of a damn stupid pineapple shot.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that I cannot handle hard alcohol. Beer is best, wine is okay, anything else can lead to disaster. Sometimes, I get roped into doing a shot…and it almost never ends well.
My 3-block walk home from the bar turned into a several-block journey, because I GOT LOST. To my own home. And the whole time, I semi-recall muttering angrily to myself. I tried calling my husband, to let him know I was going home, and he met me at the apartment. From what little I recall, I stormed into the apartment, crying angrily, and then proceeded to vomit. A lot.
Saturday, as I mentioned, was supposed to be spent with friends. I spent it sleeping, and waking into deep feelings of shame. I could have been getting a manicure, going to a concert, and joining friends in Halloween shenanigans, but NO.
I’m embarrassed and ashamed. It doesn’t happen too often, but when it does, I just want to bury myself in a hole. I shut down and I don’t talk to anyone. I probably enjoy my alone time a bit too much, sometimes.
Yesterday, when I finally dragged my ass out of bed and migrated to the couch, I spent HOURS making a playlist on Spotify – based on keywords like “sad” and “depression” – and then watched multiple back to back episodes of “Too Cute!”
I ate epic amounts of Jack In The Box and IHOP this weekend. Yeah, I’m doing FANTASTIC on Weight Watchers at the moment.
I’ve overextended my spending, and I’m cutting it superclose right now. And I don’t get paid again for another 2 weeks.
I am sometimes/often the life of the party. Yet I feel so incredibly alone. There’s nothing tangible that I can say is so terrible that would explain why I am so sad and so angry. Why I hate myself so damn much. The nightmares are getting worse and worse. Sleeping pills no longer help. I have to either double up on Xanax, or drink enough to shut my brain down. With drinking comes the OMG, CALORIES and the certain-to-follow drunken munchies. Which leads to the OMG, YOU FAT FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT, HAVE YOU NO SELF CONTROL???? Which brings us back to the beginning of the cycle.
How do I explain that to people? Ha. I have to laugh. I often pepper my conversations, with new acquaintances and old friends alike, about how batshit crazy I am. Why fucking lie about it, you know? But, maybe if you play it off and say it with a smile, it doesn’t come across as serious. Say it with a clink of a bottle, a wink and a flick of a Marlboro Ultra Light, it’s no big whoop.
I feel like crap. I feel like a terrible person. I don’t like myself very much. I think I wear myself out by continually picking myself back up. Continually trying to pull yourself out of a hole is exhausting.
I have an appointment with my shrink on Wednesday. This is probably a good thing. Maybe I need my meds adjusted (again). It’s definitely a good thing because Wednesday is Halloween and I hate that holiday with fire and venom. So if I don’t have to be home for it, all the better for me. Last year we actually had a ton of kids come by our old apartment complex, and they freaked me out. It put me in such a panic. I have no idea why. They were all adorable, don’t get me wrong. There were just SO MANY OF THEM.
I hate scary things, I hate gory things. I hate looking like an idiot.
I’m such a WEIRDO, LOL.
Meanwhile, a hurricane is about to slam the East Coast. I’m going back to Jersey for Thanksgiving, so my home state better not float away!