Hyde Triumphs! (Jekyll is down for the count)

Yesterday I was having a pretty rough day. I couldn't seem to get myself out of the house. Well, the day started off okay. When I woke up and turned on my phone, I had another message from Narc (left around 4:30 am Friday night). He said that he wanted to let me know that he decided not to work on his writing this weekend so he "had an opening" for me. (Thanks for tossing a crumb my way, Narc...) He's so weird. What he actually said is that his "life coach" told him not to do any writing this weekend. Don't ask me what a "life coach" is because I hardly understand the concept.

Anyway, I got up and worked on my resume a bit because there's a part time research job I want to apply for. After jumping in the shower and while I was dressing, I somehow got invested in a stupid Lifetime movie. (Brian Austin Green playing a high school kid who is seduced by his mother's friend...good stuff). By the time that movie ended and the next began (female cop in a small town gets sexually harassed and eventually raped by her supervisor) I had lost all momentum and started to feel depressed. The depression just got worse and worse. I could literally feel myself sinking into a fog. I started to think about Narc more and more. My body felt awful and flooded and I was just so sad and anxious and stuck all at the same time. In a moment of very little impulse-control I caved and and called him. Damn it! Well, I left just a short message.
"Hey Narc, it's Hyde. Got your messages. If you still want to talk, give me a call."
That was it.

After that I started to feel all guilty and self-hating for giving in and calling him. It made the depression that much worse. I felt like I both had to go out and do something crazy and drastic, but like I didn't have the energy to even get up off the couch. I wanted to self-immolate, burning myself up in a ring of fire like at the ending of Gotterdammerung. I tried to explain it to Hammer. She asked if was going to go out and get a new tattoo or something. I called B and whined to him about how I was feeling. He told me that I'd feel much better if I could just get myself outside so just do it! ("Let's do this thing!") By this point it was almost 5:00 pm and I hadn't even eaten yet. He urged me to get a bite to eat. I decided to go get a sandwich or something at Cheers.

When I got there I was pretty confused. It was a fucking frat party inside. It turns out it's their tradition over there to do a "Beer Pong" tournament on the Saturday before the super bowl. The joint was flooded with testosterone and the smell of beer. They weren't serving food, and I should have turned around and left, but I didn't. Instead, I ordered a Jack on the rocks. Then another. Then another. Then another. Then another. Then another and then another. Remember, I had started drinking on an empty stomach, so by that point I was pretty wasted. At some point I called the Stallion because he's been on my mind since yesterday. I tried to have a meaningful conversation with him and explain to him that I've been anxious lately about where my life is going. I talked to him about my goals, and how I feel about my mistakes, and how I wonder why I can' t get myself out of this Narc mess. I think it was pretty much a one sided conversation. He told me that he's been "kicking it" (my favorite stallion expression!) and that his girlfriend's going out of town in the end of March if I wanted to come out to San Diego to visit him. I don't think so...

Anyway, in yet another display of brilliant judgement, I decided to call my "medicine man" to deliver some more (since I had flushed my supply back on 1/25). This is the part I am really hating myself for. I mean, c'mon Hyde! Get it together! Not only that, but I was pretty damn obvious about what I was doing, sitting at the bar with a wad of twenties in my hand, waiting for the call back. Now Barman along with everyone else probably has a poor opinion of me. Whatever. I don't want this post to turn into a self-pity session, so I'll try to get on with the story.

I headed back to my place to pick it up and when taste-testing spilled some on my sink. Of course, there was no way to get that back into the bag, so I had to use what spilled. From that point on, I was pretty fucked for the night. I went back to Cheers, but was super strung-out out of it and knew it. I guess I called Liu at some point (or so she tells me) and then just came home to crash. I think I also called Bezukhoff. Hammer tells me we had a whole long conversation, but the whole period is literally blacked out. Who the hell knows. I don't remember anything that happened after 7:00 pm or so (that is until I woke up later in the night). Anyway, I eventually passed out on my bed, laced up Docs and all.

The next thing I knew the phone was ringing. I opened my sticky eyes and looked at the clock. It was 3:45 am. Well, it's not hard to guess who it was. That's right...Narc! He told me that he was at Waikiki Wally's on the Lower East (where I lost my diary). He said that they were doing last-call and that he wanted to see me and would order me a drink. I said okay. (Don't ask me why). The alcohol and "medicine" had not yet worn off, and I was in a weird state somewhere between fucked up and hung-over. I had to go to the ATM, as I had no money for a cab, and decided to use the ATM in Cheers. They were closed already, but there were a few people (staff and regulars) still inside. I banged on the window for them to let me in. When they saw it was me, they opened up, and PumpedUp told me that they were closed. I told him that I just wanted to use the ATM, but he insisted on pouring me a drink.
Me, drink? I never drink..." I told him.
They all thought that was pretty funny. (Pretty funny? More like pretty pathetic. B was mad about that part of the story. He said they're not "really" my friends because if they were they would stop pouring booze down my throat.) Anyway, I had the one drink and PumpedUp asked where I was off to.
"I think you know where I'm off to," I said.
He pulled me aside.
"Hyde," he said, "Don't go there. I mean, get rid of this guy. You're a good girl and a sweet girl. You don't need to put up with this shit from him. Just go home. You'll feel so much better tomorrow and be glad that you did. Just go to bed, wake up tomorrow and come chill and watch the super bowl over here with us." (Some of you may remember that when I had a mysterious bruised eye back in October, the staff at Cheers assumed it was from Narc and now they all think he's physically abusive. I tried to explain to them that it wasn't from him and that he's SO not like that, but they thought I was covering for him and making excuses, so I just let it go).
PumpedUp gave me a big hug and I finished off my drink. I told him that I'd go home (not intending to, but you know me...I'm a people-pleaser). I left Cheers and walked in the direction of my apartment, but instead caught a cab and went down to meet Narc.

It was weird to see him again, after not having seen him for two weeks. I felt some distance between us. I was sniffling a lot, and he gave me an admonishing look for my "naughtiness." I told him that I had been trying to behave and that I even flushed my old stash.
"Oh, wow..." he said sarcastically. "You made it a whole ten days."
Then he said he wished I had brought the stuff with me so he could help me "get rid of it." (Talk about sending a double message. Should I tell him that the bouncer last night wanted to help me "get rid" of him?). Anyway, after the drink there, and with so much shit in my system (still not having eaten), I again don't remember many details. We took a cab back to his neighborhood and stopped at a deli for two bottles of wine and some cigarettes. I also bought a croissant because I was starving. I asked him if he remembered the last time we had stopped in there for wine. (That was the night in November when I first told him I loved him.) He remembered, but I guess other aspects of the evening stood out for him.
"Wasn't that the night I fucked your ass on the roof?"
Um, yes Narc, it was....

Anyway, back at his place, the two of us finished off a bottle, smoked a lot, talked about things I don't remember and of course screwed around. I told him how ridiculous his message was in which he told me he had "an opening for me" to come see him.
"What, am I supposed to be grateful?" I asked. "Am I supposed to come running? It's like you're tossing me a bone--a small window of opportunity in which I get to come fuck you?" (Okay, I know what you're thinking...I did come running, but whatever...)
He looked at me suprised.
"You are special," he told me. "I could have spent this evening with anyone and I chose to spend it with you. I've been blowing off all of my friends, and this is the one weekend I'm taking a break from writing, and I called you."
I wanted to point out that he did spend the weekend with other friends and that he only called me at 3:45 am because the bars were closing, but I bit my tounge. I didn't want to be in a fight while under the influence. (For me that usually means "histrionic emotions" and I know how much he hates that.) In all truth, I do need to confront him on some of this, but I'd rather talk this shit out with him in a more rational way. I kept saying that I had to leave though, and that I didn't want to stay over. I think there was some vestige of Jekyll fighting to create some sort of boundary-- fighting for my dignity. But poor measly Jekyll! Jekyll never wins in these situations. I kept trying to get up and put my clothes on, but Narc kept pulling me back.
"Stop being dramatic," (he loves to say that to me, doesn't he?) "You're not going anywhere. You're staying here and you're sleeping here."
Um, okay...

The next morning (this morning) was sweet. I set the alarm on my phone for 10:00 because I knew I had to meet B. Narc woke up with me and completely cuddled me and kissed me and created a beautiful illusion for me. He didn't want me to leave and urged me to blow off B so we could lounge in bed all day. I pointed out that if he had asked me even one day in advance to spend Saturday night with him, and lounge around with him all day Sunday that I wouldn't have made plans with someone else.
"That's how it works," I told him. "That's why people make plans."
"I don't do plans," he said.
I told him that I wouldn't blow off B because B is very special to me and a most wonderful friend.
"I think that it's fucked up that you're still so close to your ex," he said.
Whatever... he can be jealous all he wants. I told him that I'm always going to love B and that we're like family and that I didn't feel like explaining it beyond that. I know he has no way of understanding, because he doesn't even love (or get love from) his own family. Sometimes I wonder how he could ever have learned to love at all.

Physically, I spent the first half of today feeling really crappy from all of the bad things I did to my body last night. I also looked pretty bleary and awful. I did make it on time to meet B, though and we ate spaghetti and meatballs for lunch. It was pretty delicious to finally have something substantial in my stomach. We went to see a Japanese film, Nobody Knows. It was depressing, but beautifully made and very well acted. After that, I headed home and fed my big beautiful cat (who is staring at me right now with his big beautiful eyes ). Now I need to shower and get out of these day-old clothes. The question for the night: should I stay home and rest, or stop in to Cheers for the big super bowl night? VJ just called me and said she might stop by and we could eat dinner together. I guess I'll deal with figuring out my evening plans after my shower.