Try and Try Again.

I've calmed down a little bit since this morning and am not feeling quite as awful. Just awfully disappointed in myself and physically wrecked. I should have trusted my judgement and stayed in for Mardi Gras. Yet another example of Jekyll thought/Hyde action. Why am I such an idiot? When will I ever learn?

Anyway, here's how the evening went:

I had a ton of Mardi Gras beads saved from the trip to New Orleans spring break of Junior year, so I pulled a few strands to give to IrishBird. When I got to Cheers, FightingMensch was hanging out at the bar. I haven't seen him as much lately because he just got a big job promotion. When I have seen him he's been tired and dressed in a three-piece suit instead of his usual t-shirt and jeans. A few weeks ago he told me I should stay off the "medicine" and since then, there's been a strange vibe between us. It's almost as if he's given up on me doing the right thing. (Remember, he hates Narc as well for reasons I've mentioned in previous posts.)

Anyway, the Nigerians were back and this time with a friend from out of town. The new Nigerian guy immediately started talking to me. I ordered a jack and diet and was trying to hang out at the bar because I really came to see IrishBird, but he asked if I would join him at a table. I told him I'd rather stay by the bar because I wanted another drink. (5 minutes in and first 2 down the hatch). He asked if I would come talk to him after I ordered my second drink. It was a bit of an akward situation so I just agreed. Now, I don't know where I find these super intense men. He told me that from the moment he saw me he knew that I was a "kind spirit" and that there is a "strong connection" between us. Conversation with him wasn't as difficult as with PakistaniMan, and I was having a decent time. (2 more drinks down the hatch) He is a doctor and does some kind of work with public health and the global community. At one point I got up to go restroom and when I came back he had written me a note which he pressed into my hand. He had scribbled something about love at first sight. I felt like it was a little creepy and I was starting to tire of the conversation and wanted to get out of the whole thing. I told him that I wasn't interested because I have a romance going on with someone else (I wish...), but he took my hand and kissed it. I was pretty uncomfortable. On top of that, he didn't even spell my name right in the note. (1 more drink down).

By that time it was almost 1:00. I told him I had to head home because I had to teach early the next morning. He asked me for my contact information and because I didn't feel like dealing with saying no, I gave him a fake number. Then he asked when he could see me again. I told him I would be at Cheers the next night at around 10:00 (which I SO won't!). His companions wanted to head home as well. I said goodnight and told him that I wanted to stay behind a few minutes and gossip with IrishBird (anything to avoid being walked to my door.) IrishBird told him jokingly that if he lays a hand on me, she'll kill him. Yet another friend foolishly fighting to preserve my honor. (Remember your promise to duel Narc, Bezukhoff!) I had a great time talking to IrishBird. We talked about music and as she's never heard me sing opera, but only pop-karaoke, she asked me to sing a note. I did just that (and quite loudly too), and the last stragglers at the bar all turned around. I think that PumpedUp's dad (the propreitor) was especially shocked. (Yet another drink down).

IrishBird asked if I wanted to go for a drink with her after they closed up. I agreed (although I shouldn't have. What happened to teaching?) We went to Manchester Pub where my good ol' friend Sean Duffy was working. (The guy I "medicated" with on Jan 26th) IrishBird talked to all of the Irish workers at Manchester about their Irish roots. She and I girl-talked and bonded and drank a bit more. (4 more drinks down. I think we're up to 10 now. This is where I started to lose count and memory. By the end of the night, I must have been up to 15 or so.) At some point IrishBird left because she was tired, but I insisted on staying out. (Oh, Hyde...) I ended up talking to two Australians, Matt and Phil. (I've seen Phil at Manchester a few times since Jan 20th. Matt claimed to have met me and conversed with me before. If that's true, I have no recollection of it.) The night gets blurry at about that point.

One way or another we transitioned from the pub to my living room and lost Phil along the way. Matt and I stayed up the entire night doing "medicine" and talking. He had never tried it before, so while I'm glad I could give him his first experience, I felt a little guilty about it. Anyway, it was a lot of fun. He has a girlfriend of 5 years, so there was no sexual weirdness, only good conversation. And he really liked my cat. (That always wins points with me!) But as the hours ticked by, higher and higher we went. I did so much. Suddenly I realized it was 7:00 am and I was off my rocker.

Now this was not a good situation. I was supposed to teach at 9:30 and there was no way that I would be able to come down sufficiently by then. I told Matt he should probably go while I did my best to get myself into a more normal mental state. I took a shower (which was very difficult...I was hardly walking) and haphazardly blow-dried my hair. I only had to get through teaching and then my voice lesson at 12:00. That's what I kept telling myself. But things started to get worse. I get really bad come-downs and I felt the crash beginning. I layed down on my bed for a few minutes and the room was pulsing. I don't have the words to describe the kind of awful awful crashing that I get, so I won't even try. The bottom line is that my eyes were blurred, I could hardly walk, my head was pounding, my heart was beating hard and my mood was spiraling out of control. There was no fucking way I could teach. I hate myself for that. Narc was right. I am an unfit teacher. I can't fucking believe I let this happen!

I called in sick to the department and asked them to post a sign for my class. Then I called and rescheduled my voice lesson for Saturday. As I was speaking, my voice seemed a million miles away. My head seemed to be floating above my body in the air. My entire being tottered on the brink of collapse. I crawled into bed shaking and curled into a ball. My mood was worse and worse. I started to cry and just feel plain suicidal. I know it was all a chemical thing and that was comforting in a way, but I didn't know what to do. I called B.

I think that he heard the urgency in my voice. He told me to get out of bed and to meet him where he was. He had to teach two classes, but I could sit in on them. That way I wouldn't have to be alone. I wasn't sure if I could even get to where he was without collapsing, but it was worth the try. I managed to pick up a bagel and meet him at his office. I was still coming down so hard. By this point it was 10:30 or so. I don't think he's ever seen me like that. I couldn't stop crying. My head was just flooded with sadness. I looked god damn awful. I don't think he ever wants to see me like that again.

His first class was at 11:00. I had to pull myself together to look moderately presentable in front of the other students. I kept my eyes lowered to the floor so they wouldn't notice the red rims, my puffy eyelids and my sharply dialated pupils. I started to feel a little better about midway through the class. My mood was stabilizing and the fog started to clear from my brain and my eyes. By the middle of his second class (around 12:30 or so), I had fully come down off the drugs and felt back to my usual self. (Well, maybe just a little more tired than usual!)

After his classes we waited around for a while because B had to do an office hour and then we went out to get lunch. I totally skipped my research seminar, which I feel guilty about, but not enough guilty enough to get me there. I just needed a "personal day" today. I told B that I'm deleting the "medicine man's" numbers from my cell phone and my address book. I'm done with this. I don't ever ever ever want "medicine" again. And I think I have to deal with my drinking issues a little more head on. I don' t want to turn into my dad, and I clearly can't keep my drinking under control once I start. B urged me to just take it one day at a time, so that's what I'm going to do. Try and try again, right? Today is a day without drink. Yay! One down!

Not to leave any blog-entry without mention of Narc, there's a bit more to say on that topic as well. Last night while I was out I got a text from Narc (at around midnight).

He wrote: Out in W Village briefly if you want to talk. Else deadline til Sat.

I called him right away, but he didn't pick up his phone. Then I texted him (thinking maybe it was noisy where he was), but I got no response. A half hour later or so, I texted him again:

Hey N, I'm heading out for after-hours. Give me a call now, or not at all.

I was annoyed to be waiting for his call all night, you know? The weird thing is that he NEVER called. Why would he write to me saying he's in the village and wants to hang out and then disappear? Was it another game? As I became increasingly inebriated, I called him several more times up until around 2:00 am when I gave up. He had me so fucking confused. So far, pretty typical. Here's the interesting thing though: He wrote to me today and apologized!

He said: Sorry I left you hanging. Ended up going home and to bed right after I texted you. Talk later.

Well, whether or not it's true that he sent a text inviting me out and then dashed off to bed, this is a clear sign of some measure of consideration of my feelings. What a triumph! I know it's pathetic to be happy about an act of common decency, but I am. It's brightened an otherwise self-loathing day.

That's it for now. B just arrived. My apartment looks trashed from last night's revels and he said "it looks like Hud's been through here." He always knows how to make me laugh. Now I'm cracking up. I love Paul Newman! I love Hud! I love B too!

Good night for now...