Catch up! Catch up! Catch up!

I am long overdue for a post, so I'm just going to backtrack a little bit and get this blog up to speed...

Sunday, January 7th:

This was the Sunday after my dinner party. I was mad at Narc. He skipped out on my party and then called me drunk later that night, cursing at me and calling me names. That Sunday I was at Hammer's place having dinner with her and the Alaskan. Narc called and invited me over "to talk things out." I called him from the cab on the way there.

"I'm telling you now-- I'm not staying over tonight," I said.

"Yeah, fine."

I got to his place at around 11:00.

When I got there, Narc seemed a little "off." I couldn't tell if he were drunk or not, but when I asked him, he said he hadn't had anything to drink that day. He was watching some stand-up comic on HBO. He answered the door and led me over to the couch, redirecting his attention to the television. I sat down next to him and just looked at him.

"Are we going to talk, or what?"

"Um, yeah... What do you want to talk about?" he asked, flicking off the TV and turning to face me.

I just looked at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. I am so bad at confronting my feelings... at confronting the truth.

"Um... well... You were really mean to me on Friday night," I began. I wish I could rid the meekness from my voice.

"I said I was sorry about that."

He stared straight ahead. It was cold.

"I know, but still..."

"I don't know, Hyde," he said softly. "It's just that sometimes those monsters come out... the dark side, you know?"

"So you say," I muttered.

"What do you mean?" he shot back. "I never say that!"

"We had this conversation already, Narc," I sighed. "You said 'the demons come out.' Don't you remember?"

"We did?"

"Yes. We did."

"Well, I don't try to remember everything the way you do. You hold on to too much... live in the past."

"It's not that," I tried to explain. "It's just that if I don't remember, I feel like my reality gets fragile. I can be so easily convinced that these things didn't happen... that I'm crazy... I don't know."

"I'm sorry," he said again. "But did you ever think that you made your party the night of PopStar's birthday?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that.

"I didn't think about it," I answered. "But I suppose I knew... it was a year ago-- that night at the opera."

He didn't say anything.

"Is that why you're depressed, Narc? Is that making you more depressed."

He just sat there, staring away from me. His eyes were getting red.

"Narc? It's okay."

I put my hand on his arm. He still didn't say anything.

"Do you talk to anyone about this?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-- is there anyone in the world you talk to about your feelings? Anyone you can share everything with?"

"No."

"Maybe you should think about that," I said softly. "A therapist or someone? You can't stay like this-- so alone. You'll go crazy."

"I am," he said. His eyes were getting redder.

"You don't have to be alone," I told him.

Again, he didn't answer, so I just continued.

"I know you don't like me to mention AA and all that, Narc, but not even in the context of alcohol, it's helped me. It's helped me make a connection to other people. I'm not saying it's for you. I'm just saying that I know what it feels like not to be able to trust people... to get close to people. I see you. And you don't have to be alone if you don't want to be. There are good people out there."

"Trying to trust people isn't worth it," he said.

His eyes were glassy now. He was starting to cry. My heart hurt so much I couldn't bear it. I wanted to fix everything for him, but could do nothing. So, I just kept talking. I don't want to try to reconstruct what I said. I don't think I have it in me right now. But, I got through to him. Everything melted away for a moment. Everything. We weren't "Hyde" and "Narc." We were just the two of us with no labels, no construction, no roles.

"Can I hug you?" I asked him, tentatively.

"No... No," he said, getting up.

He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There was a tension in the air, as if he were struggling whether or not to raise or lower his emotional walls.

"A nice cold, crisp, diet coke for my Hyde," he said, popping open a can of soda.

I smiled at him.

"Let's go in the other room," he said.

I followed him into the bedroom. He pulled me down onto his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I love you. I love you so much, I really do. I want to tell you that... know I should tell you that. I love you, and I'm sorry that I was mean. I want to stop drunk dialing you. I want to stop."

"I know," I said. "It's okay. I love you too. And it's all going to be okay."

The rest of the night is better left untouched in my memory. It's for me and Narc alone.

Monday, January 8th:

The next day I opened my eyes to Narc's white bed, white walls and white bedroom. The magic of the night before was gone. The whole world felt blank. Quiet. Strangely quiet and empty. It felt like a strange sort of emotional hangover. Ignoring it the best I could, I spent the morning at Narc's. He said he wasn't feeling well. We agreed that it must have been the excessive drinking... and maybe the sex. I left the apartment to get a coffee and then crawled back into bed with him. And in bed we stayed, with a brief excursion to the living room couch, until about 2:00 pm.

"I have to get out of the house today," he announced. "I have to. I'm going to go crazy living like this."

"Well, I've got therapy at 4:00."

"I don't want to be alone today," he said. "Can't you stay with me?"

Woah.

"You can come with me," I suggested. "Why don't we go back to my place and then you can just hang there for the hour I'm at my appointment."

I was surprised, but he agreed.

We got in a cab and picked up some Subway for lunch, but Narc couldn't eat much. I tried to feed him gourmet cheese and crackers, left over from the dinner party.

"It looks like you must have served up quite a feast," he remarked.

I didn't like leaving him when I had to go. I am still always so scared that he will get onto the computer and find my blog again, or that he'll peek around and find some diary or something and that he'll know how much I care about him... think about him... and it will disrupt the balance of the universe and leave me morbidly exposed. But, I had to go.

When I returned, he was parked on the couch, just where I left him. Some movie or another was on the television. We ordered dinner from Energy Kitchen. Narc didn't like his fruit shake, so I shared mine. At one point, NDN stopped by to show me his outfit before heading out for a date.

"How do you like my new look?" he asked Narc. "I'm taking a page from your book-- beard, untucked shirt, top button open..."

I was kind of ready to kill him for that one.

"I don't know if I'd take your fashion tips from me," Narc awkwardly laughed.

Yes-- NDN succeeded in making someone feel awkward.

Aside from that, it was a quiet night. It's always a little strange for me when Narc sleeps in my bed.

Tuesday, January 9th:

This day began just like the day before-- a lazy day for me and Narc. We slept in and decided to go to Houston's for lunch. Narc got impatient waiting for me to get ready (or to "mosey," as Brick likes to say). We walked the 20 blocks to the restaurant, so it was clear that Narc was feeling a bit better.

Lunch was interesting. We talked a lot, including a conversation on what makes an "ideal partner."

"I need a muse," Narc said. "Someone to inspire my writing-- to make me write. I need someone who will get me up and get me going... Someone who will make sure that I did my work that day... All the great writers have someone like that."

"That sounds more like a taskmaster than a muse," I remarked.

"No, really," he went on, "I need someone who will force me into shape."

"But, don't you just want someone who will love you the way you are?" I asked. "Someone who will nurture you? Accept you? I find more inspiration to move myself in the right direction from people who support and accept me than from those who criticize me and demand a certain standard..."

"That's what your friends are for," he said. "Your friends are there to be your 'pets'-- unconditionally loving. A partner has to demand perfection from you. Inspire you to be better! Make you work!"

"I guess we just have really different ideas about relationships," I said.

But maybe not, I thought to myself. We seem to both be drawn to people who make us feel inadequate. Maybe my tendencies to fall for "reclamation projects" is the same as Narc's search for a cold-hearted "muse."

The conversation was, at best, unsettling. We shared a brownie sundae. I think we were both depressed.

After lunch, we walked down to Union Square. Narc sat in the shoe store and waited while I tried on a pair of sneakers which I didn't buy. Then we poked around in the Virgin Megastore and Forbidden Planet. By that time, it was nearly 5:00 pm.

"I've gotta buy some milk and get to my meeting," I remarked.

"Yeah. I guess I'm gonna go home from here."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

I wanted to hug him.

"A hug?" I asked.

He laughed awkwardly. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed as hard as I could.

And that was that.

Later that night, after the AA meeting, my sponsor pulled me aside and said she wanted to talk to me.

"Why haven't you been calling me every day?" she asked.

"Because I've been depressed," I said.

In truth, I don't know where the depression came from or why it left me so unmotivated to do such little things like make a phone call, but there it was...

I don't particularly feel like reliving that conversation with my sponsor, as it left me incredible irritated with her. In particular, I didn't like the fact that she said that she wishes I "would just trust her" and that when I didn't call it showed a "lack of respect" for her. Trust and respect had nothing to do with it in my mind. It was simply a matter of depression. I didn't know how to get myself to the starting point where she needed me to be. Of course, I hardly articulated any of that. I just nodded sweetly and promised to do better.

When I left her, I started to walk home and called BigSis, as she had left me a message earlier in the day.

And then I lost it. I started to cry on the phone with BigSis and everything started to spiral into chaos. I was sobbing and hysterical and telling BigSis that I had been feeling suicidal and that I couldn't help it and that I still feel suicidal here and there and can't stop it. I was utterly overwhelmed and alone.

She really helped me. I have to say, I am so lucky to have the family that I do. (It also doesn't hurt that she's a therapist!) She talked me through what I was feeling and cut it down into smaller manageable pieces and made a plan for me to get through the next day. I never would have reached out to her for help... it just sort of happened that we were on the phone when I had that breakdown... but I'm really glad that she was there and that I was able to expose myself like that. I'm usually much more controlled about what I present on the outside.

Wednesday, January 10th:

Anyway, the next day I was depressed and didn't do much all day until it was time for AA. Meema came over for a little while before the meeting and then we walked to our meeting together. Afterwards, I had plans to meet Dan for dinner. We ate at Blockhead's and then headed down to the East Village for a culinary adventure-- the now infamous chocolate pizza! It was good to spend time with a friend and it definitely did a lot to get me out of myself and out of my depression. We had fun.

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This is taking sooooooooo long to get through! I'm going to have to resume my efforts at blog catch-up tomorrow!

Good night!

love,
h

PS: Just a few little bits-- I got an email from my advisor today asking if I wanted to present a paper at a conference in April. Yay! Also-- Narc and I talked on the phone last night for over an hour. Weird. Also-- Remember PonyTailBoy? He was one of the rejects on last night's American Idol. I was laughing about it. Oh-- and one more thing. Narc put my toothbrush in his medicine cabinet. Ok... I'll shut up now.