I'm very prolific today--two posts in one day!
Why can't I stop thinking about Narc? I don't know what's wrong with me. I still care about him so much. Maybe I should have exorcised him long ago. Did I have the chance to back in October, and blow it all away? I don't know...
Here's the story:
IrishBird and I were first becoming real friends in the late summer/early fall. One day she asked me out to drinks on her night off. We met up on a Sunday evening and went to the Thirsty Scholar down in the East Village. We talked a lot that night, and learned a lot about each other. IrishBird was going through her break-up with PumpedUp and I was dealing with Narc-drama and saying that I wanted to get off my "medicine" (as usual). IrishBird thought that I could use some "help" to deal with some of my issues.
"What kind of help?" I asked.
"Well, there's a woman who has really helped me. She's actually more like a sort of mother to me," she said. "I was going through some very hard times at one point in my life. This woman saved me--she did! I go to see her every Sunday. She's up in the Bronx. Why don't you come with me next week?"
"Really? I don't know..."
(IrishBird is pretty religious, and I had the feeling this had something to do with religion--something I didn't want to get involved in, that is. It's never good to mix religion and friendship unless you're sure everyone's on the exact same page!)
"It'll be good for you," she assured me. "Just give it a chance!"
"I guess."
The night before our trip to the Bronx, it was Anxious' birthday party here in the city (October 2nd). She drove me up the wall that night! In fact, it's one of the reasons I decidedly avoided her for the next few months. She ended up staying over at my apartment and so on Sunday morning I had to usher her out of the house. I met IrishBird outside the main subway station at Time Square, bright and early, coffee in tow. She surprised me with the gift of a pair of earrings I had admired on her. (Unfortunately, I lost those earrings on Christmas day. Sadness.) I remember being hungover (what else is new?) and that I was deeply touched by her gift.
It was quite a trek to the Bronx. We had to transfer from the express train to a bus and then back onto the train, all because of some track-work. Even once we got off the train, we had to call a car service to take us the final leg of the trip. IrishBird was carrying a half-eaten keylime pie as a gift for our hostess.
When we got there, we approached the apartment up a long creaky stairway; it was located on the second floor of a small building. We rang the bell. A woman answered. It was a crowded 2-bedroom apartment populated by three large dogs, IrishBird's "psychic" friend, her grown daughter and son-in-law and their two children. The son-in-law was laying half-naked on a plastic-covered couch chain smoking with the baby nearby. Ughhh....
"This is the girl that I was telling you about," IrishBird said, as she introduced me.
IrishBird and the psychic went into the psychic's bedroom for a while and they had a private visit. I waited uncomfortably at the kitchen table. Their oversized dog kept trying to put its paws up on my lap. I wasn't into that. The whole house was filthy and crowded and smelled of cigarettes. I wanted to get out of there. After a while, they came out of the room. The psychic told me it was "my turn." I followed her into the bedroom.
She did a tarot reading, and told me that she had to burn some candles over the next week or so in order to "meditate" on my spirit. Only then would she be able to give me a full diagnosis. She said that I should call her in about a week, but that if I needed to talk sooner, I could call her "any time." Of course, I offered her a small fee "for her time." (Although I could already feel a scam coming.)
I felt a little weird about the whole thing after that, and didn't want to get too involved. It was a really touchy issue though, because obviously this woman was really important to IrishBird and I didn't want to offend her at all either--especially since she was inviting me in to something very personal to her. Several days went by and I didn't make the call. I just wanted to let the whole thing drop. After nearly two weeks, and several messages from the psychic, I got a message from her saying that it was "extremely urgent." I saw IrishBird that night--it was actually her birthday (October 19th).
"I know my friend called you," she said. "You should really call her back. I'm telling you Hyde, she turned my life around. I was fallen on hard times and she changed everything for me. I want her to do the same for you."
Okay... I decided to call her back.
"Hyde, I really need to see you," she told me. "I did your candle meditations, and I need for you to come up here and meet me. When can you come? I need you to come as soon as possible."
I told her that the earliest I could come see her would be on Thursday of that week (the 21st). That was also the week that I started dating SeattleGuy. We had a date scheduled for Wednesday the 20th. That night he stayed over at my place and I had to explain to him why I had to be out of there early the next day. He thought the whole story was amusing.
I made the long trip into the Bronx, this time by myself. When I got there, she pulled me into her bedroom.
"I'm so glad that you came, Hyde. It's very important. I've learned of some very negative spirits that are around you."
Basically what she told me is that the awful evil spirits around me are linked to my dad, and that they're probably the same evil spirits that "killed him." (Um, don't you think it's kind of shitty to be so emotionally manipulative?) She told me that if I didn't exorcise these spirits, and soon, that they would kill me too.
"Um, okay... So how do I 'exorcise' them?" I asked.
"I can do that for you," she said. "But only if you want me to and only if you really believe. You have to pray with me."
This was freaking me out. "Um, okay. I'll do it."
She told me that I had to take off my shirt. She lit some candles and took some strange oil and put it on my forehead, my chest and my back. She took out a bottle of Poland Spring water and told me that I had to spit three times into the water bottle. I did so. She then put the water bottle in a brown paper bag. She stood me in the middle of the room and told me to close my eyes. She spun me around a few times. Then she began to sing some kind of chant, rubbing the brown paper bag on my back and chest and forehead, circling around me.
Finally she told me that I could open my eyes. She told me that if the water was still clear in the water bottle, that my soul would be clear as well. But if the water was colored and showed the evil spirits, then our efforts failed and the spirits were still around me.
When she removed the water bottle from the bag, it was turning red. It looked like there was some large piece of bloody tissue in the bottle. It was totally disgusting. I felt very disoriented and uncomfortable.
"These are the spirits," she said. "These are the evil spirits that have been around you. Our praying didn't work."
"So now what?" I asked.
"Well, we need to bury these spirits. If we don't get them far away from you, they'll bring such evil into your life. We have to do this."
"Fine," I said. "Let's bury them."
(Let the scam begin...)
"Well," she said, "the problem is this--we can't bury them just anywhere. We need to give them a real church funeral. That might cost you a little money."
"How much money?"
"Well, I don't want this to be expensive for you. Let me call Sister Anna and see how cheaply we can do this."
She pretended to make some kind of phone call. When she "hung up" the phone, she gave me the price--$1500.
"That's a lot of money," I said. "Where exactly will these 'spirits' be burried?"
"Um, overseas."
"Where overseas?"
"In Canada."
(Um, what 'sea' separates us from Canada? This lady was losing me.)
"Well, what's the name of the place where they'll be burried?"
"I can't tell you that. It's better that way. You should have no connection to where these spirits go."
"Well, $1500 is a little much for me. I can't really afford that," I said. "I'd have to think about this." (Really, at that point, I just wanted to get out of there without being rude.)
"What is there to think about?" she asked. "You must do this. Otherwise, these spirits are going to kill you."
"Well, let me talk to my mom or something."
"Why your mother?" she asked. "You can't talk to anyone about this. You can't tell anyone for at least two weeks."
"Well, how soon would I have to let you know?"
"Three days."
"I really don't have the money," I said. "I have to get going."
"Well, we could work out a payment plan," she suggested.
"I'll let you know."
I got up and started collecting my things. I was out of there.
On the bus on the way back, I called Narc and left him a message. I felt really unsettled. I mean, I don't believe in that sort of thing in general, and the woman was obviously trying to scam me, but even still. It made me nervous. What if there was anything to it and I opted to not bury the spirits and it ruined my life? Ughhh.... (Predictably, by the way, Narc never called me back. But when I saw him the next night, he reassured me that this woman was a scam-artist.)
That night I went to see "Dialogue of the Carmelites" with Hammer at City Opera. (It was amazing). I tried to forget all about the psychic. I never called her back. IrishBird asked me about it a few times and encouraged me to call. I told IrishBird that I just couldn't believe in it. Things were weird between the two of us for a little while, but that didn't last for long.
Anyway, why is this incident on my mind?
Here's the thing that I've been thinking about lately--
My life has been chaotic and difficult since around July. In a one week period (the first week in July), I met Narc, bumped into the Stallion, started drinking regularly and started taking medicine again. Since then, so many things have gone wrong. (From the date-rape thing to my brother's accident, etc.) And it's all been since I started up with Narc. Maybe Narc is just some kind of "bad spirit" in disguise?
I don't know... It's been almost two months since our "break up" and I'm still thinking about him. Maybe I'm just looking for an excuse to write him off so I can stop thinking about him. Am I being obssessive? Well, I guess it's only been a few weeks since I saw him, and even shorter since we last spoke. (And I guess that's normal according to the break-up recovery rule that says that it takes half the length of the relationship to get over it entirely).
I don't know... When I started writing this post, I was convinced that my life is haunted and that I should have buried those spirits. Now I feel deflated and like that's stupid, and I'm wondering why I bothered to write out this whole story.
To make matters worse, as of the last five minutes, I'm sad. B and I were supposed to have lunch today, but he texted me last night to cancel, asking if we could have dinner instead. Well, I can't do dinner. I have plans tonight. I called him this morning to tell him that and he said he couldn't talk because he's with his girlfriend.
"What about our plans?" I asked.
"I didn't realize they were set in stone," he said.
Whatever. He sucks. I'm mad at him now.
I think I just need to get out of my house. I should have left here an hour ago. I'm starting to feel malaise.
later...
-hyde
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Breaking the Dry-Spell
11 days alcohol free ended yesterday. All's well that ends well? Hmmm...
I do have a lot to write about, starting with a very dramatic family fight on Friday night, but I just don't have the energy to do it right now. So instead, I'll be brief.
The weekend up to this point? I went to Long Island on Friday night and stayed over. (The Stallion called me in the middle of the night, but I didn't pick up). Saturday morning my mom drove me back into the city. I wasted a lot of time in the afternoon, not doing the work that I should have. Then, around 4:00, I went out for an afternoon "pick me up." It was fabulous. The weather was brilliant and it put me in the most perfect mood! I felt totally alive.
I met NextDoorNeighbor at Manchester and had four or five whiskeys. (Cheers was closed. I was confused about why, but later learned that BarMan is home sick, so they opened late). After a little while, NextDoorNeighbor left because he had to go to his mom's for dinner. I called Bezoukoff and we talked for a little while.
From Manchester I headed to Cheers and hung out with FightingMensch. He was drunk and was being very friendly. (Sometimes he can be strangely stand-off-ish). We were mostly talking about his reservations regarding his girlfriend's possible move from Chicago to NY. I must have had four or five more drinks. PumpedUp was tending bar. He and FightingMensch were joking with me about previous "Hyde" adventures.
The evening crew started to arrive at around 8:00--IrishBird, one of the Colombians, etc. (BTW--I haven't seen the flirty Colombian since our coffee "date"). I was pretty drunk at that point. I got two random phone calls from friends I haven't seen in a while, but it was not an opportune moment for me because I was too drunk to be very cordial. I was dying to call Narc. I called Sunshine and asked her to convince me not to. It worked for the moment.
I stayed and hung out for another few hours. RK showed up and we hung out for a while, just because there was nothing else to do. I don't remember all that much after that. Looks like my 11-days dry decreased my tolerance just a bit. Weird how that can happen so fast, right? It was about 9:30. RK and I came back to hang out at my place. (I didn't want to be embarassingly drunk at Cheers so early in the evening!) I find RK really annoying--and I mean annoyingly annoying, not attractive-annoying. I don't think I feel like hanging out with him again.
The next thing I knew, I woke up at around 5:00 am. There was a small bag of "medicine" next to me. I guess it was RK's. I must have paid him for it, because it's much more than one would give a friend as a gift. I definitely didn't use any of it though--no physical signs of having indulged. I got up and went across the street to the deli to buy some tea. I just couldn't go straight back to sleep, you know? Cheers was closed, but I could see them through the window counting money and wrapping things up for the night. I started to think that I forgot to pay my tab. I didn't want to tap on the window last night, but I should poke my head in there at some point today just to make sure.
On my way back home, I checked my cell phone. Saw I had a text from the Stallion-- "Pretty nice out today. How have you been?" But worse--yup, you guessed it--one outgoing call to Narc. It was only a 3 second call, so I clearly didn't leave a message. Ughhh. That sucks, but ultimately, what's the damage? That I look pathetic? Whatever... You know what I always say--Scrap it!
Back at my place I drank my tea and went back to bed.
I do have a lot to write about, starting with a very dramatic family fight on Friday night, but I just don't have the energy to do it right now. So instead, I'll be brief.
The weekend up to this point? I went to Long Island on Friday night and stayed over. (The Stallion called me in the middle of the night, but I didn't pick up). Saturday morning my mom drove me back into the city. I wasted a lot of time in the afternoon, not doing the work that I should have. Then, around 4:00, I went out for an afternoon "pick me up." It was fabulous. The weather was brilliant and it put me in the most perfect mood! I felt totally alive.
I met NextDoorNeighbor at Manchester and had four or five whiskeys. (Cheers was closed. I was confused about why, but later learned that BarMan is home sick, so they opened late). After a little while, NextDoorNeighbor left because he had to go to his mom's for dinner. I called Bezoukoff and we talked for a little while.
From Manchester I headed to Cheers and hung out with FightingMensch. He was drunk and was being very friendly. (Sometimes he can be strangely stand-off-ish). We were mostly talking about his reservations regarding his girlfriend's possible move from Chicago to NY. I must have had four or five more drinks. PumpedUp was tending bar. He and FightingMensch were joking with me about previous "Hyde" adventures.
The evening crew started to arrive at around 8:00--IrishBird, one of the Colombians, etc. (BTW--I haven't seen the flirty Colombian since our coffee "date"). I was pretty drunk at that point. I got two random phone calls from friends I haven't seen in a while, but it was not an opportune moment for me because I was too drunk to be very cordial. I was dying to call Narc. I called Sunshine and asked her to convince me not to. It worked for the moment.
I stayed and hung out for another few hours. RK showed up and we hung out for a while, just because there was nothing else to do. I don't remember all that much after that. Looks like my 11-days dry decreased my tolerance just a bit. Weird how that can happen so fast, right? It was about 9:30. RK and I came back to hang out at my place. (I didn't want to be embarassingly drunk at Cheers so early in the evening!) I find RK really annoying--and I mean annoyingly annoying, not attractive-annoying. I don't think I feel like hanging out with him again.
The next thing I knew, I woke up at around 5:00 am. There was a small bag of "medicine" next to me. I guess it was RK's. I must have paid him for it, because it's much more than one would give a friend as a gift. I definitely didn't use any of it though--no physical signs of having indulged. I got up and went across the street to the deli to buy some tea. I just couldn't go straight back to sleep, you know? Cheers was closed, but I could see them through the window counting money and wrapping things up for the night. I started to think that I forgot to pay my tab. I didn't want to tap on the window last night, but I should poke my head in there at some point today just to make sure.
On my way back home, I checked my cell phone. Saw I had a text from the Stallion-- "Pretty nice out today. How have you been?" But worse--yup, you guessed it--one outgoing call to Narc. It was only a 3 second call, so I clearly didn't leave a message. Ughhh. That sucks, but ultimately, what's the damage? That I look pathetic? Whatever... You know what I always say--Scrap it!
Back at my place I drank my tea and went back to bed.
This morning I woke up feeling refreshed--for once I slept enough hours to entirely process out the alcohol. In fact, I feel as fresh as a daisy! It looks nice outside. I think I'll go get dressed and walk to the library.
I'll write more later...
-hyde
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Non-Sense
I'm in a delerious mood and so is Hammer. We're supposed to go to a seminar about "Common Sense." Neither of us has any. I really don't want to go. I mean, c'mon... It's spring; it's the first day that I'm feeling better; and I want to bust out of these shackles.
"Uh, oh... Hyde!" Hammer just said.
PS: I have an ear infection.
"Uh, oh... Hyde!" Hammer just said.
PS: I have an ear infection.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
A Family Affair
Family drama has struck once again. There's never been a peaceful relationship between my mother and the mother of my step-siblings (I'll call her Peachy). Peachy and my stepfather have always been on pretty bad terms too. So when she arrived in town to deal with this crisis, I was rather amazed at how well everyone got along, especially in light of the stress and the close quarters. Nothing lasts forever though, and it's clear that the honeymoon is over.
Some basic background--my stepfather left Peachy for my mom, which left her feeling very bitter even though they apparently had a pretty miserable marriage. The two of them are peaceable now, but it's thinly veiling a lot of bad blood and they're prone to get into arguments very easily. He got together with my mom and we met the kids when his kids were 2 (that's my stepbrother), 6 and 11 (my two stepsisters--I'll call the older one Jewel and the younger one Toots). (I was 12 at the time I met my stepsiblings, but met my stepfather a few years earlier). Peachy is a born-again Christian and told her kids that my mom was the devil. It made the already difficult transition of divorce even harder for them.
Anyway, the years went by and the relationship between my mom and Peachy remained antagonistic. For the most part, they weren't in contact, but there were always certain monetary/parenting issues that would involve all three parents, in which case, they would have to come together on things.
About seven years ago or so, she met someone online and wanted to get married and move to Ohio. They had some stipulation in their divorce agreement that she couldn't take the kids out of state. My mom is an attorney and specializes in family law, so she clearly had the upper hand in the legal debate. One evening, Peachy was over at our house and the three parents were fighting about this issue, trying to come to some agreeable terms, and she actually threw a punch and hit my mother! It was awful--straight out of Jerry Springer.
Peachy ended up getting married, but staying in NY and visiting her Ohio husband as much as possible. My stepbrother was a freshman and sophmore in high school for those years and he really didn't get along well with his mother. He started acting out a lot and skipping school and partying way too much. Clearly, it was a bad situation. One day, she announced that she was picking up and leaving and going to Ohio, and said that he could just go live with his father. That's how my stepbrother ended up living with my parents for the past two years. She moved off to Ohio, and that was that.
So when this accident happened, and she came back to NY, we all wondered how it would be, with all of us together all of the time. She is obviously going to be living in NY for the forseeable future, and right now is staying with Jewel in the house where she used to live with my stepfather. (Toots is away at school in Connecticut). Up until now, everyone has pretty much gotten along. It's clear that we all love my stepbrother and that we all want the same thing. Also, as much as she cant' stand my mom, she knows that my mom is really smart, has a lot of friends who are or who have connections to very good doctors, and that my mom is financially contributing to my stepbrother's care in a major way. So she hasn't cut my mom out of things at all. Instead, who got the brunt of her wrath? My little sister...
LilSis is in law school right now, and her school happens to be very close to where my stepbrother is in long-term care. Also, her boyfriend (JBC) lives right near there. Because of that, she's been visiting pretty much every day. She stops in for an hour or two here and there, mostly because it helps her to be able to pay the visit. Jewel has also been there visiting pretty much every day. The difference is that Jewel dropped school and quit her job in order to be able to do so. My mom was concerned about her, and suggested that she start to put her life back together and not be at the hospital every day, but instead, to pick back up with her own stuff for her own psychological well being.
So my little sister was visiting this afternoon, and she and Peachy were the only ones there. Their mother told LilSis that she "really didn't have to be there all the time," saying it in a way that made LilSis really uncomfortable. So of course, my sister called my mom and reported back as soon as she left. My mom said to cut Peachy some slack because of the pressure she's under with her son in such awful condition.
Later that evening, my mom told LilSis to meet her back at the hospital on her way home. When my mom and LilSis walked in together, Peachy said accusingly: "what, you again? I told you, you didn't need to be here all the time!"
Well, that was it-- my mom wasn't going to have any of that.
Peachy's reason for the comment? She claimed that my mom told Jewel not to be there every day, but since it was okay for LilSis to be there every day, it seemed to her as if my mom were trying to foster some kind of competition with her kids coming out as the more attentive siblings. That is just ridiculous! Jewel was there listening to this argument and apparently didn't say anything. My mom pointed out that she told Jewel to "take it easy" for Jewel's benefit.
"Can you honestly say that you don't want LilSis to be here because you're worried about her welfare?" My mom asked. "Is that what this is about?"
The fight escalated until everyone was yelling at each other. Ultimately my mom told Peachy "you take care of your kids and I'll make the rules for mine."
And as for my stepbrother?
"You don't own him!" my mom said. "Other people love him, and you don't have a right to have him for yourself."
I just hope that my stepfather doesn't catch wind of this latest round. It's the last thing he needs. I wonder what kind of ripple effects this will have. At least the fight took place in the waiting room and not in earshot of my stepbrother.
I feel bad for LilSis now, because if I were her, I'd feel really uncomfortable going to visit by myself, in fear that I'd bump into Peachy. My mom, being the stubborn lady that she is, told me that she's personally going to make sure that LilSis is there every day this week. Peachy can be quite a tyrant, and you according to my mom, you know what they say...
If you give them an inch...
Some basic background--my stepfather left Peachy for my mom, which left her feeling very bitter even though they apparently had a pretty miserable marriage. The two of them are peaceable now, but it's thinly veiling a lot of bad blood and they're prone to get into arguments very easily. He got together with my mom and we met the kids when his kids were 2 (that's my stepbrother), 6 and 11 (my two stepsisters--I'll call the older one Jewel and the younger one Toots). (I was 12 at the time I met my stepsiblings, but met my stepfather a few years earlier). Peachy is a born-again Christian and told her kids that my mom was the devil. It made the already difficult transition of divorce even harder for them.
Anyway, the years went by and the relationship between my mom and Peachy remained antagonistic. For the most part, they weren't in contact, but there were always certain monetary/parenting issues that would involve all three parents, in which case, they would have to come together on things.
About seven years ago or so, she met someone online and wanted to get married and move to Ohio. They had some stipulation in their divorce agreement that she couldn't take the kids out of state. My mom is an attorney and specializes in family law, so she clearly had the upper hand in the legal debate. One evening, Peachy was over at our house and the three parents were fighting about this issue, trying to come to some agreeable terms, and she actually threw a punch and hit my mother! It was awful--straight out of Jerry Springer.
Peachy ended up getting married, but staying in NY and visiting her Ohio husband as much as possible. My stepbrother was a freshman and sophmore in high school for those years and he really didn't get along well with his mother. He started acting out a lot and skipping school and partying way too much. Clearly, it was a bad situation. One day, she announced that she was picking up and leaving and going to Ohio, and said that he could just go live with his father. That's how my stepbrother ended up living with my parents for the past two years. She moved off to Ohio, and that was that.
So when this accident happened, and she came back to NY, we all wondered how it would be, with all of us together all of the time. She is obviously going to be living in NY for the forseeable future, and right now is staying with Jewel in the house where she used to live with my stepfather. (Toots is away at school in Connecticut). Up until now, everyone has pretty much gotten along. It's clear that we all love my stepbrother and that we all want the same thing. Also, as much as she cant' stand my mom, she knows that my mom is really smart, has a lot of friends who are or who have connections to very good doctors, and that my mom is financially contributing to my stepbrother's care in a major way. So she hasn't cut my mom out of things at all. Instead, who got the brunt of her wrath? My little sister...
LilSis is in law school right now, and her school happens to be very close to where my stepbrother is in long-term care. Also, her boyfriend (JBC) lives right near there. Because of that, she's been visiting pretty much every day. She stops in for an hour or two here and there, mostly because it helps her to be able to pay the visit. Jewel has also been there visiting pretty much every day. The difference is that Jewel dropped school and quit her job in order to be able to do so. My mom was concerned about her, and suggested that she start to put her life back together and not be at the hospital every day, but instead, to pick back up with her own stuff for her own psychological well being.
So my little sister was visiting this afternoon, and she and Peachy were the only ones there. Their mother told LilSis that she "really didn't have to be there all the time," saying it in a way that made LilSis really uncomfortable. So of course, my sister called my mom and reported back as soon as she left. My mom said to cut Peachy some slack because of the pressure she's under with her son in such awful condition.
Later that evening, my mom told LilSis to meet her back at the hospital on her way home. When my mom and LilSis walked in together, Peachy said accusingly: "what, you again? I told you, you didn't need to be here all the time!"
Well, that was it-- my mom wasn't going to have any of that.
Peachy's reason for the comment? She claimed that my mom told Jewel not to be there every day, but since it was okay for LilSis to be there every day, it seemed to her as if my mom were trying to foster some kind of competition with her kids coming out as the more attentive siblings. That is just ridiculous! Jewel was there listening to this argument and apparently didn't say anything. My mom pointed out that she told Jewel to "take it easy" for Jewel's benefit.
"Can you honestly say that you don't want LilSis to be here because you're worried about her welfare?" My mom asked. "Is that what this is about?"
The fight escalated until everyone was yelling at each other. Ultimately my mom told Peachy "you take care of your kids and I'll make the rules for mine."
And as for my stepbrother?
"You don't own him!" my mom said. "Other people love him, and you don't have a right to have him for yourself."
I just hope that my stepfather doesn't catch wind of this latest round. It's the last thing he needs. I wonder what kind of ripple effects this will have. At least the fight took place in the waiting room and not in earshot of my stepbrother.
I feel bad for LilSis now, because if I were her, I'd feel really uncomfortable going to visit by myself, in fear that I'd bump into Peachy. My mom, being the stubborn lady that she is, told me that she's personally going to make sure that LilSis is there every day this week. Peachy can be quite a tyrant, and you according to my mom, you know what they say...
If you give them an inch...
The Fait Accompli
I'm sitting in my teaching office right now, having just hung up the phone with Hammer. Both of us are in "blog-mode"-- a very good thing, because she hasn't updated in forever! And I'm sure you all know how it is when you're addicted to blogs and your blogger fails to post anything new!
As for me, I haven't had that much to write over the past few days because I've been dreadfully sick. It seems as if illness has sucked all the drama right out of my life. B thinks that my illness is partially psychosomatic so that I can avoid facing some tough issues that started to surface last week. I'll do him one better-- If I'm psychosomatically sick at all, I don't think it's about hiding from issues, but rather, maybe it's a way of slowing down with the booze and breaking my destructive Hyde-cycle. Whatever. We're both way too "overtherapized." Either way, I continued to feel worse and worse over the weekend, probably reaching a low by Monday night. (I don't know how I made it through German class). I've been in bed every night by 10:00 or so. What happened to my nocturnal ways? I hardly feel like myself anymore!
Yesterday at around 7:30, I stopped in at Cheers for a few minutes just to say hello to IrishBird. She balked when she heard how hoarse I am, sending me straight home to bed. Yes, it's been a week low on Cheers.
That said, it's time for you all to break out into the Hallelujah Chorus because come this evening, I will have successfully completed ONE ENTIRE WEEK sans alcohol! (That's something that I've been unsuccessfully trying to do since I had the flu the second week in January.) Okay, I know, I know... this time the achievement has also been mitigated by illness, but still... It is officially a fait accompli!
Aside from my illness, what's been going on with me? Hmmm... Well, not much.
I told B not to come over on Monday for our 24 night so that he wouldn't get sick, but he came anyway, claiming it was "sweet" of me to be so protective of him. We hardly hung out at all because I fell asleep right after the show, but he stuck around for a while the next morning. He played me his favorite Bruckner symphony and we went for brunch at the coffee shop around the corner. It was perfect-- just like old times. There was no drama, no bullshit whining about Narc, or about his personal "issues" or about our "issues" with each other. Instead, we just talked about religion and philosophy and it felt just like the good old days. (Or at least like my romanticized memory of the good old days. If I force myself to recall, those days were filled with drama and "issues" of their own).
Anyway, after that, I walked to school. The weather was brilliant! I was wearing my corduroy trench coat, the only real "in-between-weather" coat that I have. The beautiful day was made bitter by memory though, as I was reminded of wearing it (and nothing else) down to see Narc last summer. (Momentary sadness.) Hammer gave a presentation in class. I hadn't finished reading the book, so I didn't say much. After class I had to run off to the doctor. I had to have some bloodwork done. I have another bloodwork appointment tomorrow. I hate it because I bruise so easily and always end up looking like a junkie. It sucks to have to teach like that.
Last night, I was exhausted and in desperate need of downtime. However, little of it was to be had. VJ showed up for a surprise visit followed by a ring from NextDoorNeighbor. He had some drama going on--a friend of his is planning a wedding in Honolulu. When NextDoorNeighbor said he couldn't make it, the friend got really upset and wants to end their friendship. NextDoorNeighbor was freaking out and calling everyone he knows to ask their opinion on the issue. I told him I had to leave to pick up something for dinner. I just couldn't deal. On the way back, I spoke to Hammer on the phone. She had her own crisis. She had done some editing work for a magazine back in February and the bitchy woman who hired her told her that there were too many mistakes in the work and that they were going to dock her pay by 2/3! She was really upset. She wanted to go out for a drink and I would have loved to go, except for being sick. She said that she didn't want to knock me "off the wagon" anyway. (She later met up with another friend for drinks and got it out of her system by venting with the Wizard. ;-) ) On the way back into my building, I passed Druggie smoking a cigarette. He gave me a nod. Whatever... I just went home and ate my dinner and watched American Idol and went to sleep.
In other news, it seems like things are working out between Anxious and BulgarianGuy. I got a few texts from her over the weekend (I'm giving you excerpts in which she tells me about things with BulgarianGuy):
Text #1 from Anxious: "BulgarianGuy wants me to live with him, but um... no. ;-)"
My Response: "Wow! Intense."
Her Response: "I tend to have that effect on men...except Scotland. This really intense Lebanese guy on the subway asked me out..."
Text #2 from Anxious: "Am absolutely LOVING job at Lauder. Writing & researching makeup! BulgarianGuy is COOKING ME DINNER. I like being a princess!"
My Response: None.
Anyway, that's pretty much all that's going on with me. I just collected my first load of student term papers to grade, so I'll be tortured with that for a while. I'm still missing Narc a lot. Like I said in my last post, this is the first time that a week has gone by with no contact in either direction. (that is, since the week I spent in Puerto Rico.) I know it's a good thing, because this time it ended on my terms (I suppose), and I sent him the last "goodbye" text, but it's hard not to think about... especially because I haven't been able to go out and distract myself much since last Wednesday.
I expect this weekend to be pretty tame as well. I really don't want a relapse of this sickness and so I need to make sure that I rest enough to get it all out of my system. I have a lot of family stuff coming up in the next few weekends-- Passover, my brother's birthday, a friend's Bridal shower, and then of course, I want to be up to partying for Sunshine's visit at the end of the month. (Oh yeah, and all my school work too...)
I'm starving and need to go get something for lunch now.
Talk to you all later!
-hyde
As for me, I haven't had that much to write over the past few days because I've been dreadfully sick. It seems as if illness has sucked all the drama right out of my life. B thinks that my illness is partially psychosomatic so that I can avoid facing some tough issues that started to surface last week. I'll do him one better-- If I'm psychosomatically sick at all, I don't think it's about hiding from issues, but rather, maybe it's a way of slowing down with the booze and breaking my destructive Hyde-cycle. Whatever. We're both way too "overtherapized." Either way, I continued to feel worse and worse over the weekend, probably reaching a low by Monday night. (I don't know how I made it through German class). I've been in bed every night by 10:00 or so. What happened to my nocturnal ways? I hardly feel like myself anymore!
Yesterday at around 7:30, I stopped in at Cheers for a few minutes just to say hello to IrishBird. She balked when she heard how hoarse I am, sending me straight home to bed. Yes, it's been a week low on Cheers.
That said, it's time for you all to break out into the Hallelujah Chorus because come this evening, I will have successfully completed ONE ENTIRE WEEK sans alcohol! (That's something that I've been unsuccessfully trying to do since I had the flu the second week in January.) Okay, I know, I know... this time the achievement has also been mitigated by illness, but still... It is officially a fait accompli!
Aside from my illness, what's been going on with me? Hmmm... Well, not much.
I told B not to come over on Monday for our 24 night so that he wouldn't get sick, but he came anyway, claiming it was "sweet" of me to be so protective of him. We hardly hung out at all because I fell asleep right after the show, but he stuck around for a while the next morning. He played me his favorite Bruckner symphony and we went for brunch at the coffee shop around the corner. It was perfect-- just like old times. There was no drama, no bullshit whining about Narc, or about his personal "issues" or about our "issues" with each other. Instead, we just talked about religion and philosophy and it felt just like the good old days. (Or at least like my romanticized memory of the good old days. If I force myself to recall, those days were filled with drama and "issues" of their own).
Anyway, after that, I walked to school. The weather was brilliant! I was wearing my corduroy trench coat, the only real "in-between-weather" coat that I have. The beautiful day was made bitter by memory though, as I was reminded of wearing it (and nothing else) down to see Narc last summer. (Momentary sadness.) Hammer gave a presentation in class. I hadn't finished reading the book, so I didn't say much. After class I had to run off to the doctor. I had to have some bloodwork done. I have another bloodwork appointment tomorrow. I hate it because I bruise so easily and always end up looking like a junkie. It sucks to have to teach like that.
Last night, I was exhausted and in desperate need of downtime. However, little of it was to be had. VJ showed up for a surprise visit followed by a ring from NextDoorNeighbor. He had some drama going on--a friend of his is planning a wedding in Honolulu. When NextDoorNeighbor said he couldn't make it, the friend got really upset and wants to end their friendship. NextDoorNeighbor was freaking out and calling everyone he knows to ask their opinion on the issue. I told him I had to leave to pick up something for dinner. I just couldn't deal. On the way back, I spoke to Hammer on the phone. She had her own crisis. She had done some editing work for a magazine back in February and the bitchy woman who hired her told her that there were too many mistakes in the work and that they were going to dock her pay by 2/3! She was really upset. She wanted to go out for a drink and I would have loved to go, except for being sick. She said that she didn't want to knock me "off the wagon" anyway. (She later met up with another friend for drinks and got it out of her system by venting with the Wizard. ;-) ) On the way back into my building, I passed Druggie smoking a cigarette. He gave me a nod. Whatever... I just went home and ate my dinner and watched American Idol and went to sleep.
In other news, it seems like things are working out between Anxious and BulgarianGuy. I got a few texts from her over the weekend (I'm giving you excerpts in which she tells me about things with BulgarianGuy):
Text #1 from Anxious: "BulgarianGuy wants me to live with him, but um... no. ;-)"
My Response: "Wow! Intense."
Her Response: "I tend to have that effect on men...except Scotland. This really intense Lebanese guy on the subway asked me out..."
Text #2 from Anxious: "Am absolutely LOVING job at Lauder. Writing & researching makeup! BulgarianGuy is COOKING ME DINNER. I like being a princess!"
My Response: None.
Anyway, that's pretty much all that's going on with me. I just collected my first load of student term papers to grade, so I'll be tortured with that for a while. I'm still missing Narc a lot. Like I said in my last post, this is the first time that a week has gone by with no contact in either direction. (that is, since the week I spent in Puerto Rico.) I know it's a good thing, because this time it ended on my terms (I suppose), and I sent him the last "goodbye" text, but it's hard not to think about... especially because I haven't been able to go out and distract myself much since last Wednesday.
I expect this weekend to be pretty tame as well. I really don't want a relapse of this sickness and so I need to make sure that I rest enough to get it all out of my system. I have a lot of family stuff coming up in the next few weekends-- Passover, my brother's birthday, a friend's Bridal shower, and then of course, I want to be up to partying for Sunshine's visit at the end of the month. (Oh yeah, and all my school work too...)
I'm starving and need to go get something for lunch now.
Talk to you all later!
-hyde
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Monday, April 11, 2005
The Detox Formula
This weekend was relatively tame. I was home sick all day on Friday. I had a really strange episode that morning-- I was flushed and sweating and almost fainted. It hasn't happened again since then, but I've been consistently fatigued. Hammer wanted me to go see that play "Narcise" with her on Friday night, and I agreed even though I was feeling crappy. However, when we got to the theater, it was sold out. Instead, we headed to our favorite "after-German-class" diner near St. Marks, browsed a Japanese food mart, and headed home. On the way home, I stopped in Cheers but didn't drink anything. It was quiet there since it was so early (only around 10:30 or so) and I sang a few numbers. I told BarMan that I was sick and that they shouldn't let me sing into microphone, but he said not to worry about it. I hope I don't get their whole clientele sick!
So early to home and early to bed it was. The next morning I got up and watched the Royal Wedding on TV. Then I took off for the library. It was such a beautiful day out. I picked up a cup of coffee and a pack of cigarettes on my way there and sat in Bryant Park for a while, just enjoying the day. The first spring tulips were everywhere, and the sunshine felt so good on my face (even though I hate the summer). I probably shouldn't have been smoking, given that I'm sick, but I have to say--it was my favorite moment of the weekend. Finally I got myself to head into the library to do some work. A few hours later, Hammer showed up and we took a lunch break. I stayed at the library probably until around 4:30 or so.
When I got home, I cleaned up my house and cooked some chicken. NextDoorNeighbor came by for a while to chat. It was a very strange conversation, which I'd love to recount, but I promised him not to break his confidence. At around 7:30 I left to meet Hammer for our second attempt at "Narcise." It was an extremely odd play-- too post-modern for it's own good. Two of the leading female characters were wearing enormous Elizabethan dresses made from tin-foil and wrapping paper. Everyone danced non-stop, even while delivering lines that had nothing to do with dance, and there was some trippy soundtrack with lyrics like "I'm such a Narcise! I'm such a Narcise!" It was amusingly entertaining, but hardly great art.
I was really feeling run down though. While we went out for coffee after, I was sure to be home and fast asleep by midnight. In the process, I ignored several calls from the deli man, which I have to confess, I do feel guilty about. The next morning I woke up early to head out to Long Island. I met BigSis and Bro-In-Law at the train station and we caught up on gossip on the way there. My stepbrother is doing better and better. He kept pulling his leg up to his face for some reason though--it was kind of weird. I really started to feel worse (full on sore throat, cough, runny nose, extreme fatigue, etc.), so I didn't want to go too close to him. Instead, I fell asleep in the waiting room! My great aunt and uncle (on my mom's side) showed up for a visit, which was really odd, given that they don't have a very close relationship with my stepbrother and we hardly ever see them. Somehow we got into a discussion about their visit to East Germany when it was still behind the Iron Curtain. IrishBird texted me and asked me to brunch (I guess she missed me on Saturday night!), but I told her that I couldn't make it.
I got back to my place at around 4:30. While I had originally intended to do some work, I seemed to be full-on sick and ended up falling asleep on the couch. I woke up about three hours later feeling like hell. I called my mom to whine to her for a bit. She told me to try to get some food in me and to go to sleep early. So I walked to the Chinese place across the street and got some wonton soup. Then I stopped in at the deli and got some tea. Back at home, I watched the finale to "Strange Love" in bed. I have to say--Flav and Brigitte really are a very strange couple. I was asleep by 10:30.
This morning I woke up, once again, feeling like hell, but since I only teach for an hour and a half on Mondays, I figured I could slog through. It was not fun though. I was drenched in sweat trying to keep my energy up during the lesson and my voice was all hoarse by the end. I told my students that I'm sick (as if they couldn't tell), so I hope that they'll be forgiving. Ughh. I cancelled my voice lesson for this afternoon, but I am going to try to make it to German by 3:00 today.
That's it for now, I guess.
Anyway, here are some numbers that I've been thinking about:
1.) Yesterday was the 2 month anniversary of flushing my medicine.
2.) Yesterday was 1 month until Narc's birthday. I'll have to fight myself to keep from sending him a "happy birthday" text.
3.) Yesterday was 2 weeks until my stepbrother turns 18. :(
3.) Today is the 1st time I've gone a whole week with no contact to or from Narc (including drunk messages).
4.) Today will be my 5th day with no alcohol. (I'm hoping to make it to the 1 week mark, even if it doesn't count because I'm sick.)
5.) Speaking of being sick, this is the 6th time I've been sick this year! Guess I've lost some of the resiliency of my youth!
Well, I'm off to nap and then to do some German homework. If there's one thing that sickness is good for--it's helping me detox both from alcohol and from user-boys. I've lost the taste for both while I feel this crappy. That said, I do hope this awful cold/cough passes as quickly as it came.
lol,
-sniffling hyde-
So early to home and early to bed it was. The next morning I got up and watched the Royal Wedding on TV. Then I took off for the library. It was such a beautiful day out. I picked up a cup of coffee and a pack of cigarettes on my way there and sat in Bryant Park for a while, just enjoying the day. The first spring tulips were everywhere, and the sunshine felt so good on my face (even though I hate the summer). I probably shouldn't have been smoking, given that I'm sick, but I have to say--it was my favorite moment of the weekend. Finally I got myself to head into the library to do some work. A few hours later, Hammer showed up and we took a lunch break. I stayed at the library probably until around 4:30 or so.
When I got home, I cleaned up my house and cooked some chicken. NextDoorNeighbor came by for a while to chat. It was a very strange conversation, which I'd love to recount, but I promised him not to break his confidence. At around 7:30 I left to meet Hammer for our second attempt at "Narcise." It was an extremely odd play-- too post-modern for it's own good. Two of the leading female characters were wearing enormous Elizabethan dresses made from tin-foil and wrapping paper. Everyone danced non-stop, even while delivering lines that had nothing to do with dance, and there was some trippy soundtrack with lyrics like "I'm such a Narcise! I'm such a Narcise!" It was amusingly entertaining, but hardly great art.
I was really feeling run down though. While we went out for coffee after, I was sure to be home and fast asleep by midnight. In the process, I ignored several calls from the deli man, which I have to confess, I do feel guilty about. The next morning I woke up early to head out to Long Island. I met BigSis and Bro-In-Law at the train station and we caught up on gossip on the way there. My stepbrother is doing better and better. He kept pulling his leg up to his face for some reason though--it was kind of weird. I really started to feel worse (full on sore throat, cough, runny nose, extreme fatigue, etc.), so I didn't want to go too close to him. Instead, I fell asleep in the waiting room! My great aunt and uncle (on my mom's side) showed up for a visit, which was really odd, given that they don't have a very close relationship with my stepbrother and we hardly ever see them. Somehow we got into a discussion about their visit to East Germany when it was still behind the Iron Curtain. IrishBird texted me and asked me to brunch (I guess she missed me on Saturday night!), but I told her that I couldn't make it.
I got back to my place at around 4:30. While I had originally intended to do some work, I seemed to be full-on sick and ended up falling asleep on the couch. I woke up about three hours later feeling like hell. I called my mom to whine to her for a bit. She told me to try to get some food in me and to go to sleep early. So I walked to the Chinese place across the street and got some wonton soup. Then I stopped in at the deli and got some tea. Back at home, I watched the finale to "Strange Love" in bed. I have to say--Flav and Brigitte really are a very strange couple. I was asleep by 10:30.
This morning I woke up, once again, feeling like hell, but since I only teach for an hour and a half on Mondays, I figured I could slog through. It was not fun though. I was drenched in sweat trying to keep my energy up during the lesson and my voice was all hoarse by the end. I told my students that I'm sick (as if they couldn't tell), so I hope that they'll be forgiving. Ughh. I cancelled my voice lesson for this afternoon, but I am going to try to make it to German by 3:00 today.
That's it for now, I guess.
Anyway, here are some numbers that I've been thinking about:
1.) Yesterday was the 2 month anniversary of flushing my medicine.
2.) Yesterday was 1 month until Narc's birthday. I'll have to fight myself to keep from sending him a "happy birthday" text.
3.) Yesterday was 2 weeks until my stepbrother turns 18. :(
3.) Today is the 1st time I've gone a whole week with no contact to or from Narc (including drunk messages).
4.) Today will be my 5th day with no alcohol. (I'm hoping to make it to the 1 week mark, even if it doesn't count because I'm sick.)
5.) Speaking of being sick, this is the 6th time I've been sick this year! Guess I've lost some of the resiliency of my youth!
Well, I'm off to nap and then to do some German homework. If there's one thing that sickness is good for--it's helping me detox both from alcohol and from user-boys. I've lost the taste for both while I feel this crappy. That said, I do hope this awful cold/cough passes as quickly as it came.
lol,
-sniffling hyde-
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Good News!
I just got off the phone with my mom. She said that yesterday at the hospital, the speech therapists were working with my stepbrother. Everyone was there coaxing him to make some sort of sound. Nothing was working.
"Why don't you try using the cell phone?" the therapist suggested.
One of my stepsisters called the other (who's away at college in Connecticut). My younger stepsister started talking loudly through the phone. My stepbrother took the cellphone, put it up next to his ear (under the helmet he was wearing) and made a groaning sound. That's the first sound he's made in the month and a half since the accident! And it was deliberate! After that, he got really agitated and started shaking and closed the phone. Maybe because the sound that he made was not what he wanted to come out; maybe because it took a lot of effort. In either case, this is a REALLY good sign that he'll be able to gain back some speech skills.
For me, this is the most important thing that could have happened. My greatest fear is that he would have been alive for a lifetime with some awareness but no ability to communicate on any level. That would have been hell. Now, I'm hopeful that he will be able to have some kind of real quality of life. He's proving all of the initial "doom and gloom" reports wrong. Thank God!
Yay!
Just finished watching the "Royal Wedding" on CNN. Off to the library now...
-hyde
"Why don't you try using the cell phone?" the therapist suggested.
One of my stepsisters called the other (who's away at college in Connecticut). My younger stepsister started talking loudly through the phone. My stepbrother took the cellphone, put it up next to his ear (under the helmet he was wearing) and made a groaning sound. That's the first sound he's made in the month and a half since the accident! And it was deliberate! After that, he got really agitated and started shaking and closed the phone. Maybe because the sound that he made was not what he wanted to come out; maybe because it took a lot of effort. In either case, this is a REALLY good sign that he'll be able to gain back some speech skills.
For me, this is the most important thing that could have happened. My greatest fear is that he would have been alive for a lifetime with some awareness but no ability to communicate on any level. That would have been hell. Now, I'm hopeful that he will be able to have some kind of real quality of life. He's proving all of the initial "doom and gloom" reports wrong. Thank God!
Yay!
Just finished watching the "Royal Wedding" on CNN. Off to the library now...
-hyde
Friday, April 08, 2005
Hooray!
Hooray! I just heard from Prof PP and got approval on my paper topic so I can FINALLY get to work on that tomorrow. (I've been trying to develop a viable topic since January and was mostly going in circles).
Here's what he said:
Hyde-
Sounds great; but there are several ideas kicking around here and you need to focus on one, probably (or, at least mainly). I leave in a few days, so it might be best if we spoke briefly by phone.
Best,
Prof PP
I feel ENORMOUSLY relieved! (After all, I do have to churn something out by the 18th). Time to go get dressed so I can meet Hammer in time for the play.
Tomorrow will definitely be a library day.
-h
PS: I just ignored another call from the deli guy. Feeling guilty. Trying not to.
Here's what he said:
Hyde-
Sounds great; but there are several ideas kicking around here and you need to focus on one, probably (or, at least mainly). I leave in a few days, so it might be best if we spoke briefly by phone.
Best,
Prof PP
I feel ENORMOUSLY relieved! (After all, I do have to churn something out by the 18th). Time to go get dressed so I can meet Hammer in time for the play.
Tomorrow will definitely be a library day.
-h
PS: I just ignored another call from the deli guy. Feeling guilty. Trying not to.
Forced Downtime
Finally able to blog again! I've been trying to write something since last night, but something was going wrong with the website.
Anyway, I'm completely wiped out from this week (emotionally and physically)--so much so that I'm home sick today. I'm a little worried because I'm missing my Friday classes which are double periods, and it's going to be hell to catch up, but I just couldn't do it. I woke up early this morning, prepared to go teach, but almost fainted and ended up back in bed sweating and with a fever. I tried to go to bed early last night, but NextDoorNeighbor woke me up by ringing my bell. He was drunk and laughing and fell on the floor telling me "this is what drunk-NextDoorNeighbor is like." I told him that he's not all that different from "stoned-NextDoorNeighbor." Once, back in the fall, I passed out in the hallway of my building outside my apartment's door and NextDoorNeighbor and the neighbor on my other side had to physically drag me into the apartment. NextDoorNeighbor told me he wanted a "reinactment" and that I should drag him in to my apartment. I tried to comply, and it was quite a scene. It would have been much funnier if I wasn't so tired and cranky at the time.
In terms of the emotional stuff, I wouldn't be surprised if my "illness" were somewhat related. I feel a little steadier than the last time I wrote and after therapy, but there's a lot that I have to work out that's only just starting to surface.
In other news, the guy from the deli called me today to ask me out for Saturday. I didn't pick up the phone. I feel bad brushing him off, but I kind of want to just clear the air in terms of guys and not see anyone for a while... I just can't deal with any new complications. Things are muddled enough already. So, no Narc, no Stallion and no random new ones to come in and complicate the picture. At least for a week or two. Still, I can't help but wonder if Narc's going to call me again.
I don't know... I just feel like I'm one enormous chaos-generator, and that I need for things to calm down. That's what my body is clearly telling me.
Hammer wants me to go see a play with her tonight--Rousseau's Narcisse. Like the title? It's at some small experimental theater. I agreed to go, and I'm just hoping that I'll be feeling well enough by tonight. I just woke up from a nap and my head is killing me. I'm all stuffed up.
Nothing like forced "downtime," is there?
-weary hyde-
Anyway, I'm completely wiped out from this week (emotionally and physically)--so much so that I'm home sick today. I'm a little worried because I'm missing my Friday classes which are double periods, and it's going to be hell to catch up, but I just couldn't do it. I woke up early this morning, prepared to go teach, but almost fainted and ended up back in bed sweating and with a fever. I tried to go to bed early last night, but NextDoorNeighbor woke me up by ringing my bell. He was drunk and laughing and fell on the floor telling me "this is what drunk-NextDoorNeighbor is like." I told him that he's not all that different from "stoned-NextDoorNeighbor." Once, back in the fall, I passed out in the hallway of my building outside my apartment's door and NextDoorNeighbor and the neighbor on my other side had to physically drag me into the apartment. NextDoorNeighbor told me he wanted a "reinactment" and that I should drag him in to my apartment. I tried to comply, and it was quite a scene. It would have been much funnier if I wasn't so tired and cranky at the time.
In terms of the emotional stuff, I wouldn't be surprised if my "illness" were somewhat related. I feel a little steadier than the last time I wrote and after therapy, but there's a lot that I have to work out that's only just starting to surface.
In other news, the guy from the deli called me today to ask me out for Saturday. I didn't pick up the phone. I feel bad brushing him off, but I kind of want to just clear the air in terms of guys and not see anyone for a while... I just can't deal with any new complications. Things are muddled enough already. So, no Narc, no Stallion and no random new ones to come in and complicate the picture. At least for a week or two. Still, I can't help but wonder if Narc's going to call me again.
I don't know... I just feel like I'm one enormous chaos-generator, and that I need for things to calm down. That's what my body is clearly telling me.
Hammer wants me to go see a play with her tonight--Rousseau's Narcisse. Like the title? It's at some small experimental theater. I agreed to go, and I'm just hoping that I'll be feeling well enough by tonight. I just woke up from a nap and my head is killing me. I'm all stuffed up.
Nothing like forced "downtime," is there?
-weary hyde-
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Anger Management
(You guys get a two-for one blog day from me. I didn't intend to write twice, and this post is totally stream-of-consciousness, so sorry if it doesn't make any sense. I just needed to clear my head. I need to move myself but can't stop thinking right now.)
At some point in the past hour, I sunk into an awful depression and can't seem to pull myself out. I hate myself for this drinking thing. I really want to stop, but can't imagine my life without it right now. I mean, it feels like everything will change. Even the way I feel, think, am. But I don't want to be Mr. Hyde anymore. I just don't want it.
I'm sick of these mood swings, headaches, sore throats, and stinging eyes. I'm sick of the anxiety, of doing things half-assed, of making bad choices and blacking out. I'm sick of hiding from my family and making excuses to the doctor. I'm sick of putting back on all the weight that I lost because I drink thousands of calories a night. I'm sick of never having enough sleep and hiding from my nightmares. I'm sick of embarassing myself, of presenting myself as a drunk, and feeling detached from the person that I really am. I'm sick of not doing my work, not getting joy from school anymore, and fucking with my voice all the time. I sick of making my mom worry about me and making my friends worry about me. I'm sick of myself. I hate myself. I'm sick of hating myself. I didn't always. I want clarity, you know? I want some peace.
Why did I go out drinking last night?
I was so resolved after my visit to the doctor to be healthy. I told B that he was lunching with "famine-Hyde." (It's our joke that I'm "feast or famine." I told Hammer that my philosophical track will be called "All or Nothingness.") But it's all about choices, right? Nothing goes into my body without my approval. I'm destroying myself with my own hand.
Ughh... Here's what I don't want to know, what I don't want to think about--
I was talking to B on the phone last night and I felt raw; I felt like myself in a way that I rarely ever do. I never let myself slow down enough to be. But I started to feel things that were real--feelings that I never let myself feel. I had just hung up with my mom who gave me the update on my stepbrother and I couldn't stop thinking about him. She was trying to teach him to wave goodbye--like you'd teach a baby who hasn't learned to talk. She found a book report that he wrote for school just five days before the accident. It was some stupid report on a book they read about the Holocaust. He concluded by saying that he felt very "lucky" to have the life that he did. I think about the fact that he may never speak again, that if we're lucky his mind may have the aptitude of a child's. Maybe he can re-learn. Maybe he never will. It makes me feel sick. I think I'm going to vomit right now.
And the primary feeling under all of this, even if it doesn' t make sense-- I miss my dad so much. I've never been able to process it, never dealt with it properly. I still feel like it's not fair. It's just not fair. I know how childish that is, but my heart is still just 11 years old when I think of him. I keep getting really mad at people who are saying that losing the Pope is like losing their dad. Even though I know that there's no reason to be mad at those people, except for my own unresolved feelings. It shocks me and scares me how much hatred I have locked up inside. But then again, I hate myself for feeling even the slightest shred of anger about what happened to my dad. I don't think I deserve to be angry. I should count my blessings. I feel guilty for being angry. Then I think about that other thing, that I never want to think about and that I won't and can't even write down here.
That's one of my big things in therapy though--anger. Why can't I get angry? I never feel angry. Never, ever ever ever ever! Not even when Narc calls me a "stupid fucking bitch" and masturbates in front of my friend, and stands me up for the opera without apology and then demeans me when I see him, and tells me to sleep on the floor in my moment of greatest sorrow. The only person I get angry at is myself. But it all comes out as sadness. I'm sad for Narc, I'm sad for me, but angry at no one.
Last night on the phone with B, I felt a small swelling of anger in my chest. It was gently but firmly pushing itself through, like a tulip coming up out of the ground. If it managed to surface, it would have shattered me. Honestly, it scared the shit out of me. It's making me anxious right now. I really do think I might throw up. But I think it's why I went out last night. Once I left my house and my head, it was quiet. The anger disappeared again.
Now, today, I can't seem to motivate myself, and I feel "depressed." But I don't really think I'm "depressed." I think that I'm terrified. I know what I have to do; I know it's time to stop being in denial about all of the things that have happened and to finally let myself get angry about them so that I can move on. I feel it coming, but I can't go there. I feel frozen--immobilized. I have had more than my fair share of loss and bad things go down in my life, but there are others who have suffered much worse than I have. I would feel stupid for being angry. It's such an infantile emotion. I'm not allowed to have those feelings. They don't help the situations I have no control over.
But the "long-suffering" patience and denial act that I've been idealizing is only digging me a grave and robbing me of the things that I'm most passionate about--especially school, and voice and art. Last night, I tried to spend some time with myself. I played piano for a while but my fingers were so clumsy on the Beethoven sonatas. When's the last time I sat down and just played piano? That used to be one of my favorite things in the world. When I was in high school, I used to sit and play for hours on end. My sisters would always tell me to stop making so much noise. Now, it's been months. I used to sketch almost daily and paint every few weeks. When's the last time I picked up a brush or a pencil? Maybe back in September when I did my "September Song" painting.
Fuck. I feel like I don't even know who I am anymore. I have to scrap what I've been doing. It doesn't work.
But what if letting myself be angry kills me? That's what I'm afraid will happen. What if I completly fall apart?
Sorry if this is too much information. I don't know why I'm putting this on the internet.
I think I'm going to go cry now.
At some point in the past hour, I sunk into an awful depression and can't seem to pull myself out. I hate myself for this drinking thing. I really want to stop, but can't imagine my life without it right now. I mean, it feels like everything will change. Even the way I feel, think, am. But I don't want to be Mr. Hyde anymore. I just don't want it.
I'm sick of these mood swings, headaches, sore throats, and stinging eyes. I'm sick of the anxiety, of doing things half-assed, of making bad choices and blacking out. I'm sick of hiding from my family and making excuses to the doctor. I'm sick of putting back on all the weight that I lost because I drink thousands of calories a night. I'm sick of never having enough sleep and hiding from my nightmares. I'm sick of embarassing myself, of presenting myself as a drunk, and feeling detached from the person that I really am. I'm sick of not doing my work, not getting joy from school anymore, and fucking with my voice all the time. I sick of making my mom worry about me and making my friends worry about me. I'm sick of myself. I hate myself. I'm sick of hating myself. I didn't always. I want clarity, you know? I want some peace.
Why did I go out drinking last night?
I was so resolved after my visit to the doctor to be healthy. I told B that he was lunching with "famine-Hyde." (It's our joke that I'm "feast or famine." I told Hammer that my philosophical track will be called "All or Nothingness.") But it's all about choices, right? Nothing goes into my body without my approval. I'm destroying myself with my own hand.
Ughh... Here's what I don't want to know, what I don't want to think about--
I was talking to B on the phone last night and I felt raw; I felt like myself in a way that I rarely ever do. I never let myself slow down enough to be. But I started to feel things that were real--feelings that I never let myself feel. I had just hung up with my mom who gave me the update on my stepbrother and I couldn't stop thinking about him. She was trying to teach him to wave goodbye--like you'd teach a baby who hasn't learned to talk. She found a book report that he wrote for school just five days before the accident. It was some stupid report on a book they read about the Holocaust. He concluded by saying that he felt very "lucky" to have the life that he did. I think about the fact that he may never speak again, that if we're lucky his mind may have the aptitude of a child's. Maybe he can re-learn. Maybe he never will. It makes me feel sick. I think I'm going to vomit right now.
And the primary feeling under all of this, even if it doesn' t make sense-- I miss my dad so much. I've never been able to process it, never dealt with it properly. I still feel like it's not fair. It's just not fair. I know how childish that is, but my heart is still just 11 years old when I think of him. I keep getting really mad at people who are saying that losing the Pope is like losing their dad. Even though I know that there's no reason to be mad at those people, except for my own unresolved feelings. It shocks me and scares me how much hatred I have locked up inside. But then again, I hate myself for feeling even the slightest shred of anger about what happened to my dad. I don't think I deserve to be angry. I should count my blessings. I feel guilty for being angry. Then I think about that other thing, that I never want to think about and that I won't and can't even write down here.
That's one of my big things in therapy though--anger. Why can't I get angry? I never feel angry. Never, ever ever ever ever! Not even when Narc calls me a "stupid fucking bitch" and masturbates in front of my friend, and stands me up for the opera without apology and then demeans me when I see him, and tells me to sleep on the floor in my moment of greatest sorrow. The only person I get angry at is myself. But it all comes out as sadness. I'm sad for Narc, I'm sad for me, but angry at no one.
Last night on the phone with B, I felt a small swelling of anger in my chest. It was gently but firmly pushing itself through, like a tulip coming up out of the ground. If it managed to surface, it would have shattered me. Honestly, it scared the shit out of me. It's making me anxious right now. I really do think I might throw up. But I think it's why I went out last night. Once I left my house and my head, it was quiet. The anger disappeared again.
Now, today, I can't seem to motivate myself, and I feel "depressed." But I don't really think I'm "depressed." I think that I'm terrified. I know what I have to do; I know it's time to stop being in denial about all of the things that have happened and to finally let myself get angry about them so that I can move on. I feel it coming, but I can't go there. I feel frozen--immobilized. I have had more than my fair share of loss and bad things go down in my life, but there are others who have suffered much worse than I have. I would feel stupid for being angry. It's such an infantile emotion. I'm not allowed to have those feelings. They don't help the situations I have no control over.
But the "long-suffering" patience and denial act that I've been idealizing is only digging me a grave and robbing me of the things that I'm most passionate about--especially school, and voice and art. Last night, I tried to spend some time with myself. I played piano for a while but my fingers were so clumsy on the Beethoven sonatas. When's the last time I sat down and just played piano? That used to be one of my favorite things in the world. When I was in high school, I used to sit and play for hours on end. My sisters would always tell me to stop making so much noise. Now, it's been months. I used to sketch almost daily and paint every few weeks. When's the last time I picked up a brush or a pencil? Maybe back in September when I did my "September Song" painting.
Fuck. I feel like I don't even know who I am anymore. I have to scrap what I've been doing. It doesn't work.
But what if letting myself be angry kills me? That's what I'm afraid will happen. What if I completly fall apart?
Sorry if this is too much information. I don't know why I'm putting this on the internet.
I think I'm going to go cry now.
Drunk-Hyde's Tale
Alright--drunk blogging. That's a new one for me. I wrote most of this last night, but saved it "as a draft." (It's 9:26 am Thursday morning now). I'm going to post it as it was written, only spell-checked and with the insertion of minor explanations. Shit. My throat is fucking hurting again today though. There's a direct relation between my health and my drinking. Why am I such a stupid motherfucker? Anyway, yesterday I went to the doctor. My insulin numbers are all screwed up, plus I'm putting on weight. The doctor yelled at me because I'm not taking precautions about the whole insulin thing. "You have a disease!" he said, going on to tell me that I'm going to get diabetes unless I'm careful and won't be able to conceive children yada, yada, yada... I get the point. He told me I have to stop drinking. Ok. Well, I starved myself yesterday and then drank last night. On almost a literally empty stomach, I got drunk much faster than usual. The final count:
4 glasses of wine
2 shots of jager
2 shots of Stoli-Vanilla
1 lemon drop
(all over about 2 1/2 hours).
When I got back from the doctor, I cleaned my house and was all set for a nice evening at home. Well, like I said--it didn't happen. Here's what did transpire--Drunk-Hyde's tale:
*********************
How much can happen in 4 hours? 12:00 to 3:00 or something? To go from Law & Order SVU to being drunk off my ass yet again!
Well, at around 11:00 the boys called me--RK and RY. (RK is the guy I met last Wednesday who was standing on my street corner high and drunk. RY is his good friend. They were hanging out together at RK's place). It seemed to be some kind of exciting event for them, you know? Like they were sitting at home, bored and drinking, with a mystery-girl's phone number programmed into RK's phone and they finally decided to take the risk and call it. They were trying to act cool on the phone, and I spoke to them both. RK thought he met me at a party. I reminded him I met him on the street corner after he came into Cheers absolutely fucking wasted. He didn't remember anything about it. I told him that we spoke about his girlfriend (and their problems), that I went to Columbia, that he said he knows people at SIPA, that he works for Deutsches Bank and that he was high on coke. He was aghast. He couldn't believe he gave me so much information about himself. (Particularly the girlfriend problems and the coke thing). I could hear RY laughing so hard in the background. RK asked me to brunch over the weekend. When RY came on the phone, he asked if I was going out tonight. I said "maybe." We talked a few minutes more and hung up. NextDoorNeighbor called and asked if I wanted to meet him at Cheers for a drink. I said "okay" and got dressed. I think it was around 11:30? Anyway, I was ready by midnight, but NextDoorNeighbor said he changed his mind and was going to sleep. I was all made up already, so I went out on my own. Besides, those boys said they were going to text me their plans.
So there I was, alone, while drinking wine. Saw PumpedUp, FightingMensch and the red-faced lawyer. IrishBird was tending bar. I was bored, so I texted a lot of friends. Finally, the boys showed. RK didn't even recognize me. There was a lot of akward flirtation. I was not interested in either of them although I seemed to have more in common with his friend (interests, travel, etc) and RK kept commenting on that. RY was trying to sound like an intellectual at one point and asked me if I knew who Vaclav Havel was.
"Sure," I said. "Have you read Power of the Powerless?"
He didn't know what I was talking about. Such a phony!
Eventually, it was closing time. (The red-faced lawyer and FightingMensch were long gone). RY was outside smoking. I told IrishBird and PumpedUp to spill the end of my last drink and that we would go. PumpedUp said he think's I'm beating out FightingMensch's record for "closing out" the place. RY and I parted ways and I went to the deli. I was starving becaue I haven't eaten anything.
I didn't go to my usual place--instead, the one down half a block. I honestly don't know why. When I walked in, the guy behind the counter was staring at me and smiled.
"Hyde! Did you get up okay the other day?"
Yep--you guessed it. It was Mohammed the deli-man, whose name I had scribbled on my hand and who gave me a wake-up call last week. I pretended to be on the phone with someone so I wouldn't have to make small talk. He seemed friendly and nice though, so I "hung up." He asked me out for Saturday.
"Why would you want to go out with me?" I asked. "I mean, no offense, but the only thing you know about me is that I stumble in here drunk on weeknights. I don't know what you must think of me, but it can't be all that good. I have to question your intentions."
He vehemently protested and assured me that he means no ill. He is kind of cute--blue eyes and shaved head. I'm confused about his ethnicity with his looks and a name like "Mohammed." He said he knew I would wonder about his motives and only wanted me to give him a chance. He said that he wants to take me to the movies, dinner, drinks, anything I want. He said that he knows how to treat women well and only wants the opportunity to "show me" how well. Whatever...
I said "okay," but now I'm not so sure. We exchanged numbers again. Now I have a phone number written on deli-wax paper. Sometimes I feel like my life is so surreal. Anyway, I left with my food as PumpedUp and IrishBird were coming in. I pulled her aside and told her the Mohammed thing. She said she knows Mohammed.
"What do you know about him?" I asked.
"He makes good sandwiches." We laughed.
We all walked out together. I was pretty drunk at that point. They got into a car. Weird. I've never seen them in a car. IrishBird moved pretty far out in Queens though, so maybe PumpedUp was driving her home.
Anyway, I'm home now (it's almost 4:00 am) and I want to call Narc more than anything. I want to call him! I want to call him! I want to call him! More than you know. I'm burning for it. Dying for it.
But I won't.
***********************
Anyway, that's the end of drunk-Hyde's tale. Time to start another day. Another chance to take care of my health--emotionally and physically. Shit, though. Why can't I seem to get it together?
-frustrated Hyde-
4 glasses of wine
2 shots of jager
2 shots of Stoli-Vanilla
1 lemon drop
(all over about 2 1/2 hours).
When I got back from the doctor, I cleaned my house and was all set for a nice evening at home. Well, like I said--it didn't happen. Here's what did transpire--Drunk-Hyde's tale:
*********************
How much can happen in 4 hours? 12:00 to 3:00 or something? To go from Law & Order SVU to being drunk off my ass yet again!
Well, at around 11:00 the boys called me--RK and RY. (RK is the guy I met last Wednesday who was standing on my street corner high and drunk. RY is his good friend. They were hanging out together at RK's place). It seemed to be some kind of exciting event for them, you know? Like they were sitting at home, bored and drinking, with a mystery-girl's phone number programmed into RK's phone and they finally decided to take the risk and call it. They were trying to act cool on the phone, and I spoke to them both. RK thought he met me at a party. I reminded him I met him on the street corner after he came into Cheers absolutely fucking wasted. He didn't remember anything about it. I told him that we spoke about his girlfriend (and their problems), that I went to Columbia, that he said he knows people at SIPA, that he works for Deutsches Bank and that he was high on coke. He was aghast. He couldn't believe he gave me so much information about himself. (Particularly the girlfriend problems and the coke thing). I could hear RY laughing so hard in the background. RK asked me to brunch over the weekend. When RY came on the phone, he asked if I was going out tonight. I said "maybe." We talked a few minutes more and hung up. NextDoorNeighbor called and asked if I wanted to meet him at Cheers for a drink. I said "okay" and got dressed. I think it was around 11:30? Anyway, I was ready by midnight, but NextDoorNeighbor said he changed his mind and was going to sleep. I was all made up already, so I went out on my own. Besides, those boys said they were going to text me their plans.
So there I was, alone, while drinking wine. Saw PumpedUp, FightingMensch and the red-faced lawyer. IrishBird was tending bar. I was bored, so I texted a lot of friends. Finally, the boys showed. RK didn't even recognize me. There was a lot of akward flirtation. I was not interested in either of them although I seemed to have more in common with his friend (interests, travel, etc) and RK kept commenting on that. RY was trying to sound like an intellectual at one point and asked me if I knew who Vaclav Havel was.
"Sure," I said. "Have you read Power of the Powerless?"
He didn't know what I was talking about. Such a phony!
Eventually, it was closing time. (The red-faced lawyer and FightingMensch were long gone). RY was outside smoking. I told IrishBird and PumpedUp to spill the end of my last drink and that we would go. PumpedUp said he think's I'm beating out FightingMensch's record for "closing out" the place. RY and I parted ways and I went to the deli. I was starving becaue I haven't eaten anything.
I didn't go to my usual place--instead, the one down half a block. I honestly don't know why. When I walked in, the guy behind the counter was staring at me and smiled.
"Hyde! Did you get up okay the other day?"
Yep--you guessed it. It was Mohammed the deli-man, whose name I had scribbled on my hand and who gave me a wake-up call last week. I pretended to be on the phone with someone so I wouldn't have to make small talk. He seemed friendly and nice though, so I "hung up." He asked me out for Saturday.
"Why would you want to go out with me?" I asked. "I mean, no offense, but the only thing you know about me is that I stumble in here drunk on weeknights. I don't know what you must think of me, but it can't be all that good. I have to question your intentions."
He vehemently protested and assured me that he means no ill. He is kind of cute--blue eyes and shaved head. I'm confused about his ethnicity with his looks and a name like "Mohammed." He said he knew I would wonder about his motives and only wanted me to give him a chance. He said that he wants to take me to the movies, dinner, drinks, anything I want. He said that he knows how to treat women well and only wants the opportunity to "show me" how well. Whatever...
I said "okay," but now I'm not so sure. We exchanged numbers again. Now I have a phone number written on deli-wax paper. Sometimes I feel like my life is so surreal. Anyway, I left with my food as PumpedUp and IrishBird were coming in. I pulled her aside and told her the Mohammed thing. She said she knows Mohammed.
"What do you know about him?" I asked.
"He makes good sandwiches." We laughed.
We all walked out together. I was pretty drunk at that point. They got into a car. Weird. I've never seen them in a car. IrishBird moved pretty far out in Queens though, so maybe PumpedUp was driving her home.
Anyway, I'm home now (it's almost 4:00 am) and I want to call Narc more than anything. I want to call him! I want to call him! I want to call him! More than you know. I'm burning for it. Dying for it.
But I won't.
***********************
Anyway, that's the end of drunk-Hyde's tale. Time to start another day. Another chance to take care of my health--emotionally and physically. Shit, though. Why can't I seem to get it together?
-frustrated Hyde-
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Looking Up
I'm in a good mood today.
Yesterday was a much better day than I ever would have anticipated given that it started out with the Narc phone call. All in all, I think that phone call was a very good thing.
Here's why:
1.) First of all, I don't feel as rejected by Narc as I did when he told me he was "getting into shape," "off alcohol," and "seeing someone else." In fact, it's pretty clear that he's still thinking of me, and even if I shouldn't care, I do.
2.) Second of all, it is starting to hit me that he really is a crazy motherfucker. I just don't need to deal with that.
3.) Third of all, it also made me realize what role I play in all this. I need to take responsibility for letting him treat me that way. I mean, he never would have dared to speak to me like that back in July when I met him. He has gotten more and more bold with his demands and more and more vicious with his attacks. I know it would never have gotten this blatent if I hadn't tolerated it when he first started up like that (which was probably back around late November, early December--in fact right around the time I told him that I love him). The point is-- I guess I'm starting to see how my "infinite patience" with him doesn't help the situation. Instead, it just gives him more license to act like an infantile bully. My patience with him gives him no incentive to change his ways (not that I think he even wants to or that he can).
Anyway, yesterday's therapy went well. (In one word, it was "necessary.") After that, I headed to school to work on a short paper due at 2:00. I only had two hours to write it and worked like a maniac. In the middle of my session, the computer crashed and I lost about 20 minutes worth of work. I was pretty upset. However, despite the unfortunate malfunctioning computer, I managed to get the paper done just in time. Hammer met me in the department lounge to go hear Prof. PP give a talk on the "Goldhagen Debate." We normally have class on Tuesdays at 2:00, so a bunch of people from our class gathered to go to the talk together. We couldn't find the room and wandered in about 10 minutes late. The funny part was when during Prof. PP's "coup de theatre" (his screening of Goldhagen on CSPAN defending his book to a German audience), an old woman started fiddling with the projector to turn up the volume and Prof PP had to admonish her not to "touch the buttons."
Ha Ha!
After the talk, our regular class met (although briefly) and we got out of there around 4:15. I was absolutely starving because I hadn't eaten anything all day. (I tend to eat food that's crappy for me, or I forget to eat at all. More Hyde "all or nothingness") Hammer and I went for Korean BBQ before walking over to the movie theater in my neighborhood. We went to see the new Woody Alan movie "Melinda and Melinda." I didn't love it. I didn't relate to any of the characters and didn't particulary sympathize with them either. Hammer was so tired that she fell asleep for a few minutes in the middle of the movie
After the movie, we parted ways. Hammer had remembered that she left her bird out of his cage. She had to run home to find poor Jimmy in hopes that he hadn't yet been too traumatized by the situation. (I later heard from her that Jimmy was safe and sound. Yay!) I set off for my place, but never quite made it home. (What did you expect?) Yup-- I stopped off at Cheers.
It's all good though, because I was well behaved, once again, and only ordered diet cokes. I was sitting next to a young guy who struck a conversation with me. Soon enough, he offered to buy me a drink, so I switched to jack and diet. You guys would be proud of me though--I was there from around 8:00-1:00 am-ish (around five hours) and only had four jack and diets, two glasses of wine and three shots of Jager. It might sound like a lot, but don't forget that I've built up quite a tolerance. So I wasn't wasted as usual. I didn't do anything foolish, didn't black out and didn't drunk-dial Narc. Yay!
Anyway, the guy sitting next to me got into some existential conversation with me. He was really interested in my music stuff and wanted to know how I chose my career path and what kind of balance I was striking between doing music and doing history. He said that he's been at his job for six years and wants to leave to do something great with his career, but that he didn't know what.
"So you're really professionally ambitious?" I asked.
"Isn't everyone?"
"Well, to some extent, but my career has never been one of my major life's goals," I told him. "I'm just not oriented that way."
I asked him what his primary goals were.
"What do you mean?"
"Like, what are the basics you want to accomplish before you die? Not actual specifics, but in general?"
"I don't know... What are yours?"
"Well, I guess I have three. For one, I definitely want to have kids--no question about that. Um, for the second, I'm not sure how to put it... I guess it just that I I want to live up to what my parents have invested in me and I want to live up to the fortune that I've had in life. I mean, I've had so much love and finances invested in developing my mind, talents and character, that I have to do something with it. You know? Also, I've had social and educational opportunities that many people never have and I feel responsible not to completely take it for granted."
He told me that he completely understands and agrees.
"Finally," I said, "I want to find someone to love--a mutal thing, but someone who I can help to grow and heal and nurture with my love."
(I don't know if it quite works like that, but it is a crucial part of the way I look at the world.-- hence, why Narc makes me more sad than angry.)
Anyway, maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he acted like he was "blown away" by my response.
"That's gorgeous. That's gorgeous!" He said. "Never change. Never let anything change you, okay?"
Um....okay.
Anyway, we talked for a lot longer. At one point, a group of guys came and sat next to me. My conversation partner said something that made me think he was jealous that either I looked at them or they looked at me or something. He must be a really jealous guy in relationships if I felt it and I don't even know him. By the end of the evening, he was really drunk and started trying to put his arm around me and lean into me and kiss my hair. It was weird, but not so crazy agressive that it bothered me too much. If I leaned away a little, he realized that he was being inappropriate and backed off. The bottom line, though--he became a lot less attractive the more he drank. (Lesson learned a la Sunshine?) That said, he was good company for the evening.
Before he left the bar, IrishBird begged me to sing something for the crowd. I ran home and got my CDs and ended up singing a few arias again. Looks like this is become a weekly thing! I only wish I had the chance to sing for them sober. It would be so much better! Eventually the crowd thinned out even more and I was the only one left. IrishBird and PumpedUp asked if I had heard from Narc. I told them about the previous night's phonecall.
"So, what? Is Narc the choker?" PumpedUp asked.
I was so fucking embarassed. My jaw dropped.
"How do you know about that?" I said.
"Well, you came in here with those marks, Hyde," IrishBird said. "Everyone could see them."
"Oh." I blushed. (Shouldn't some things just go unmentioned?) "Well, the Stallion's 'the choker,' not Narc."
"No, Narc's just a 'puncher,'" PumpedUp said.
"He's not! I don't want to go over that again."
"Well stay away from them both," IrishBird told me. "That Stallion--he's an animal!" (She's really upset at him both for the grudge-sex thing and also that he told me not to hang out at Cheers anymore.)
I took the conversation as a clear sign that it was time to head home before things got any more embarassing. I walked them out of the bar as they closed up.
This morning when I woke up, I was a little drunk still, but it wasn't bad. It faded fast. Today I got to teach the Russian Revolution. I love doing that class. In a few minutes I've got to head to my voice lesson.
Anyway, the weather is beautiful today and it's all contributing to my general good mood.
The bottom line:
"'History,' Stephen said, 'is a nightmare from which I'm trying to awake.'"
-James Joyce
-hyde-
(who's now running late due to her obsessive blogging)
Yesterday was a much better day than I ever would have anticipated given that it started out with the Narc phone call. All in all, I think that phone call was a very good thing.
Here's why:
1.) First of all, I don't feel as rejected by Narc as I did when he told me he was "getting into shape," "off alcohol," and "seeing someone else." In fact, it's pretty clear that he's still thinking of me, and even if I shouldn't care, I do.
2.) Second of all, it is starting to hit me that he really is a crazy motherfucker. I just don't need to deal with that.
3.) Third of all, it also made me realize what role I play in all this. I need to take responsibility for letting him treat me that way. I mean, he never would have dared to speak to me like that back in July when I met him. He has gotten more and more bold with his demands and more and more vicious with his attacks. I know it would never have gotten this blatent if I hadn't tolerated it when he first started up like that (which was probably back around late November, early December--in fact right around the time I told him that I love him). The point is-- I guess I'm starting to see how my "infinite patience" with him doesn't help the situation. Instead, it just gives him more license to act like an infantile bully. My patience with him gives him no incentive to change his ways (not that I think he even wants to or that he can).
Anyway, yesterday's therapy went well. (In one word, it was "necessary.") After that, I headed to school to work on a short paper due at 2:00. I only had two hours to write it and worked like a maniac. In the middle of my session, the computer crashed and I lost about 20 minutes worth of work. I was pretty upset. However, despite the unfortunate malfunctioning computer, I managed to get the paper done just in time. Hammer met me in the department lounge to go hear Prof. PP give a talk on the "Goldhagen Debate." We normally have class on Tuesdays at 2:00, so a bunch of people from our class gathered to go to the talk together. We couldn't find the room and wandered in about 10 minutes late. The funny part was when during Prof. PP's "coup de theatre" (his screening of Goldhagen on CSPAN defending his book to a German audience), an old woman started fiddling with the projector to turn up the volume and Prof PP had to admonish her not to "touch the buttons."
Ha Ha!
After the talk, our regular class met (although briefly) and we got out of there around 4:15. I was absolutely starving because I hadn't eaten anything all day. (I tend to eat food that's crappy for me, or I forget to eat at all. More Hyde "all or nothingness") Hammer and I went for Korean BBQ before walking over to the movie theater in my neighborhood. We went to see the new Woody Alan movie "Melinda and Melinda." I didn't love it. I didn't relate to any of the characters and didn't particulary sympathize with them either. Hammer was so tired that she fell asleep for a few minutes in the middle of the movie
After the movie, we parted ways. Hammer had remembered that she left her bird out of his cage. She had to run home to find poor Jimmy in hopes that he hadn't yet been too traumatized by the situation. (I later heard from her that Jimmy was safe and sound. Yay!) I set off for my place, but never quite made it home. (What did you expect?) Yup-- I stopped off at Cheers.
It's all good though, because I was well behaved, once again, and only ordered diet cokes. I was sitting next to a young guy who struck a conversation with me. Soon enough, he offered to buy me a drink, so I switched to jack and diet. You guys would be proud of me though--I was there from around 8:00-1:00 am-ish (around five hours) and only had four jack and diets, two glasses of wine and three shots of Jager. It might sound like a lot, but don't forget that I've built up quite a tolerance. So I wasn't wasted as usual. I didn't do anything foolish, didn't black out and didn't drunk-dial Narc. Yay!
Anyway, the guy sitting next to me got into some existential conversation with me. He was really interested in my music stuff and wanted to know how I chose my career path and what kind of balance I was striking between doing music and doing history. He said that he's been at his job for six years and wants to leave to do something great with his career, but that he didn't know what.
"So you're really professionally ambitious?" I asked.
"Isn't everyone?"
"Well, to some extent, but my career has never been one of my major life's goals," I told him. "I'm just not oriented that way."
I asked him what his primary goals were.
"What do you mean?"
"Like, what are the basics you want to accomplish before you die? Not actual specifics, but in general?"
"I don't know... What are yours?"
"Well, I guess I have three. For one, I definitely want to have kids--no question about that. Um, for the second, I'm not sure how to put it... I guess it just that I I want to live up to what my parents have invested in me and I want to live up to the fortune that I've had in life. I mean, I've had so much love and finances invested in developing my mind, talents and character, that I have to do something with it. You know? Also, I've had social and educational opportunities that many people never have and I feel responsible not to completely take it for granted."
He told me that he completely understands and agrees.
"Finally," I said, "I want to find someone to love--a mutal thing, but someone who I can help to grow and heal and nurture with my love."
(I don't know if it quite works like that, but it is a crucial part of the way I look at the world.-- hence, why Narc makes me more sad than angry.)
Anyway, maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he acted like he was "blown away" by my response.
"That's gorgeous. That's gorgeous!" He said. "Never change. Never let anything change you, okay?"
Um....okay.
Anyway, we talked for a lot longer. At one point, a group of guys came and sat next to me. My conversation partner said something that made me think he was jealous that either I looked at them or they looked at me or something. He must be a really jealous guy in relationships if I felt it and I don't even know him. By the end of the evening, he was really drunk and started trying to put his arm around me and lean into me and kiss my hair. It was weird, but not so crazy agressive that it bothered me too much. If I leaned away a little, he realized that he was being inappropriate and backed off. The bottom line, though--he became a lot less attractive the more he drank. (Lesson learned a la Sunshine?) That said, he was good company for the evening.
Before he left the bar, IrishBird begged me to sing something for the crowd. I ran home and got my CDs and ended up singing a few arias again. Looks like this is become a weekly thing! I only wish I had the chance to sing for them sober. It would be so much better! Eventually the crowd thinned out even more and I was the only one left. IrishBird and PumpedUp asked if I had heard from Narc. I told them about the previous night's phonecall.
"So, what? Is Narc the choker?" PumpedUp asked.
I was so fucking embarassed. My jaw dropped.
"How do you know about that?" I said.
"Well, you came in here with those marks, Hyde," IrishBird said. "Everyone could see them."
"Oh." I blushed. (Shouldn't some things just go unmentioned?) "Well, the Stallion's 'the choker,' not Narc."
"No, Narc's just a 'puncher,'" PumpedUp said.
"He's not! I don't want to go over that again."
"Well stay away from them both," IrishBird told me. "That Stallion--he's an animal!" (She's really upset at him both for the grudge-sex thing and also that he told me not to hang out at Cheers anymore.)
I took the conversation as a clear sign that it was time to head home before things got any more embarassing. I walked them out of the bar as they closed up.
This morning when I woke up, I was a little drunk still, but it wasn't bad. It faded fast. Today I got to teach the Russian Revolution. I love doing that class. In a few minutes I've got to head to my voice lesson.
Anyway, the weather is beautiful today and it's all contributing to my general good mood.
The bottom line:
"'History,' Stephen said, 'is a nightmare from which I'm trying to awake.'"
-James Joyce
-hyde-
(who's now running late due to her obsessive blogging)
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
H&N = S&M?
Shit! Shit! Shit!
I was supposed to be up at 6:00 am today to work on a paper due this afternoon, but it didn't happen. Any guesses why? Drunk-Narc once again reared his ugly head.
Yesterday after teaching and after voice lessons and after German class and after shopping for earrings with Hammer, I stopped over at Cheers and finished up my reading for class. I hung out with BarMan (and briefly with FightingMensch), only drinking diet coke, so I was very proud of myself. Later, B came by and we watched 24 together. I was in bed by midnight or so, but didn't fall asleep until around 1:30-ish. At 4:04 am, my phone rang. It was Narc. I missed the call, but he left me a message. He said:
Hyde, it's Narc. Um... I don' t really know what to say to you. Um... (akward laugh) Obviously, I don't know what to say to you. Um... I would like it if you would um call me back. That's all I can say. Alright. I bid you well. Bye.
Now, I know I shouldn't have called him back. But I'm in love and I've been feeling heartbroken and the last thing I heard from him was that he's "going off the radar" because he's "seeing someone else." Anyway, I called him back.
Since the following conversations took place between 4:00 and 5:00 am, I can't remember all the details, but here are the basics:
He called and told me that he wanted me to come down there and fuck him. (So far, no surprises). I said that I was in bed, and that I wasn't going anywere.
"I only called you back because I wanted to see what you wanted," I told him. "Anyway, I thought you were 'off the radar' and that you have some new girl."
"Well, the thing is, Hyde... That relationship--that was tentative. Whatever..." he said. "The point is that I want you, here, now!"
"I don't think so," I told him. "What possible reason do I have to go see you?"
"Because I need you. I need you here and I love you."
What?!?!
"What? Did you just say that you love me? I mean, c'mon, Narc... Stop with the bullshit!"
"It's not bullshit."
"Narc, you told me to go away. You pushed me away. You said you're sick of my histrionics. You said that you are 'off the alcohol and off me' and that you don't want me to--"
He cut me off.
"Shut the fuck up!" he said. "Shut the fuck up. Just shut your fucking mouth and stop being a bitch."
(Uh oh, here comes infantile Narc...)
I didn't say anything. There was a really long pause--one that lasted at least for a few minutes. I wasn't even sure that he hadn't hung up. My dear old Dr. Jekyll-side kept telling me to hang up with him, but I couldn't. He has my heart in a vice, no matter how shitty he acts. I could hear his TV on in the background.
"What are you watching?" I asked.
"I don't know... MTV or something? It's Prince..."
"Prince?"
He started singing Purple Rain. He was slurring his words and was way off tune--really drunk.
"Narc, maybe you should go to bed. You're obviously drunk. I know you're going to be embarassed about this in the morning and wish you hadn't called me. I know that I regret it when I drunk-dial you... You're saying things that you don't really mean."
"Don't worry about it," he said. "I regret nothing. And I'm not drunk."
"I think you are."
"You're the one who's always drunk. Didn't you just get back from your bar?"
"No. I told you that I've been asleep in bed. You know I don't go out on Monday nights. It's 24 night. I've been home since 7:00."
"I know you Hyde. Yup, I know you. Wanna know what I know? I knew that you'd call me right back."
"Oh, really? How did you know that?"
"You just would. Because that's who you are to me. And you're gonna come down here now. So c'mon. Come down here now and fuck me."
"Narc, I told you that I'm not going to."
"Why? You can get up for whatever you have to tomorrow."
"It's not that. I don't want to."
"You don't want to? Stop being such a stupid bitch."
"I'm not."
"Fuck you, Hyde. Fuck you."
"Whatever, Narc! You told me that you are seeing someone else. That made me so fucking sad. I've been heartbroken all week. Now you want me to come running?"
"Well, I'm heartbroken right now because you're not here. I want to show you. I want to teach you what it's like to be held by someone."
"Bullshit, Narc! Bullshit that you're 'heartbroken.' You don't give a shit. And don't forget--I already know what it's like to be held by you. It's a very short lived experience."
From there, the conversation just deteriorated. He told me to "shut the fuck up," called me a bitch a few more times and told me to "fuck off" in general. Then he hung up on me.
He called back a few minutes later. Stupid Hyde answered the phone.
"Narc, I'm not going to do this anymore tonight. Let's just say goodnight. I'm not going to come down there. I need to go to sleep and that's all. So goodnight."
"What the fuck, Hyde? I just want to be with you. I told you that I miss you and I love you. I told you that I need you. It's not that hard to figure out. In fact, it's not fucking rocket science. I want you here. So why the fuck aren't you here? I want you to be here right now."
"Narc, you're seeing someone else. I can't do that. Whatever shit you want to dish out, it stops for me right there. That, I can't handle. So I'm not coming. I just can't do this anymore."
"I'm not seeing anyone else."
"What? Then why did you say that you were?"
"Because I needed to get you away from me."
(My honest opinion--I think he had a date the Saturday before Easter, but that it was a casual internet-dating thing and didn't pan out.)
"So you want to get me away from you? Thanks. That's real incentive for me to come down there. You don't have to pretend to be seeing someone to get rid of me. I'm an adult. You can just ask me to leave you alone. I'll go."
"I don't want you to go. Aren't you fucking listening to me, Hyde? Why are you acting like such a stupid bitch and getting so upset?"
"Well, for one, how about all of the names you've been calling me?"
"Like what?"
"Well, you just called me a bitch like 20 times, and told me to 'shut the fuck up' repeatedly."
"I never called you a bitch."
"Narc, you just did! Just a minute ago! You know that you did!"
He didn't say anything.
"But honestly, Narc, I can deal with that. You're drunk. Whatever. That's not even what bothers me the most."
"Oh? What bothers you the most? I can't wait to hear this one! C'mon Hyde... Give it to me. Just give it to me. Fuck me with it, then, like you will... I've heard it all. I've heard it all by now. There's nothing else you can say. What did I do this time?"
"Okay--Well, it's the way you treat me like a fucking yo-yo with no regard for my feelings. You invited me to come see you a week ago Sunday; you held me and 'made love' to me and said such loving things. When I left you said: 'see you soon.' After that, you ignored my calls for a week and when I finally did hear from you, it was only to tell me that you were going 'off the radar' and seeing someone else. You basically told me to just go away and forget all about you because you had found someone better. I've been trying to process that and move on, and now out of nowhere, you're calling me to say you love me and need me and cursing me when I won't come fuck you. What the hell?"
"You know what? Fine, Hyde.... Fine! I'm just an awful person, right? A fucking awful person! Is that what you're saying? I'm just the most horrible person there is."
I didn't say anything. The silence hung there for a few minutes. Then--
"You know what? Fuck you, bitch."
He hung up on me again.
A few minutes later, one more call from Narc. Masochistic-Hyde answered the phone. I guess I wasn't done getting beaten up yet.
"Hyde, this is stupid. Just come down here and fuck me." (He sounded annoyed and frustrated now).
"Narc, I want to go to sleep. I'm too sad for this. I can't do this, I just--"
He cut me off again. "Shut the fuck up with that again Hyde! You're making it impossible for me. You know? You make it impossible for me to be with you. Just shut the fuck up!"
I kept trying to talk and he kept talking over me, not letting me get a word in, telling me to shut up. I raised my voice (but not so loud that I would wake up B who was sleeping in the other room).
"Narc, you obviously don't care about my feelings if you won't even let me talk!"
"Fine. So talk. What do you want from me, Hyde?"
"You know what I want."
"What do you want?"
"I want what I can't have." (I felt stupid and disarmed all of a sudden).
"What's that?"
"It doesn't matter what I want. You don't have it to give to me, Narc."
"What is it? Love? I told you I do."
"Well, if this is your love, I want more than love. Respect, I guess. Mutuality."
"'Mutuality?' I don't even know what you're talking about. Besides, you're the one who walked out on me last Sunday."
"What??? I told you I had to teach! After I came running to have sex with you when you called? And I stayed until 3:00 in the morning? Are you honestly mad at me for that? Is that what you've been punishing me for this week, Narc? Is that why you've all of a sudden started 'dating' and cut me out of your life? Because you lost control over one stupid little issue? God Narc, it can't work like that! I mean, my needs obviously mean nothing to you. It's all about you. It's always been about you. You don't give a shit about me! It's been that way from the beginning. What does Narc want when he wants it?"
"Hyde, if you really think that, then you don't know me at all."
"Yeah, well maybe I don't know you. But that's no surprise. You don't want me to know you. You won't let me know you. I tried so many times to get to know you. You just have all these fucking walls up around you and won't let anyone get close to you."
"No. That's you. You're the one with the walls up."
"Not the same kind of walls as you have," I said. "I can't even imagine what yours feel like, they're so thick. Look--I'm sad; I'm hurt; And I can't do this anymore. I have to go." (I honestly felt like I was on the verge of tears, but I knew that if I cried it would make him even angrier at me.)
"Fuck you," he said. "I can't believe you're not going to come down here. I can't believe you're doing this. You really are being a stupid bitch, you know."
And with that, he hung up on me again.
This time, I sent him a text. It was 4:58 am.
Don't understand what u want from me or why you just said you love me & need me. I'm going back to sleep now, but "Be well" (as you like to say). Goodbye, Narc.
(FYI: He always ends his cold "break-up" messages with "Be well.")
He wrote back at 5:02:
Fuck you, fuck me. Christ, deal.
(What does that mean?)
Then he called me back. This time, I didn't answer the phone. He left me an incredibly incoherent message. At 5:07 he said:
Well Hyde,
You can think whatever you want (akward laugh). But I'm sitting here in my apartment, and I have people who are not necessarily supposed to be here in my apartment. And, um... Well... I read lots of video games. And I've played lots of video games, and I'm like, kind of a dork, and you know? I know my shit around the video games. And I know my crap around "Guns and Dragons" and all that crap. You know what? So I'm alright. I'm alright with this arbitration. You know what? I'm watching this arbitration and I haven't made my mind up yet, actually. I thought I'd be, you know, pretty-- you know, I thought I knew pretty much... I thought I had it but, you know what? I'm watching these two... And they love it so much. I just can't. I don't know. I can't, um, I can't... I can't access it. I just um, I want to see it. I want to see it. And YOU should see it. And you should call me back. You know what? If you have this number then call me back. If you do, then do. Bye!
Anyone care to try to decode that for me? Is he talking about arbitration between the two of us? Is he saying that he'll be alright without me because he has his games? Who are the "unecessary people" in his apartment? All interpretations are welcome! (Although probably not worth it.)
Anyway, I'm off to see my therapist who thinks I'm an emotional masochist. I'm starting to think that she's right.
So of course, I had to look it up on the internet. Are Narc and I just locked in some kind of awful sado-masochistic emotional hold? Here's some food for thought (this is cut and pasted from some website):
On Masochism (or Hyde):
In a masochistic pathology there will always be three messages, or thought patterns, that permeate the subconscious of such individuals. These underlying thought patterns will thus condition, control, and create the circumstantial realities of the masochistic type of person. These three thought patterns are:
(1) I deserve pain, punishment, crisis, suffering, humility ( to be humiliated), and denial and I do not know why. In addition, the dynamic of denial /avoidance expresses itself as a suppression of the truth that is causing this too occur in such a way as to make excuses that will always sound like rational reasons in order to justify such conditions. And within this the related thought: there must be something wrong with me.
(2) For my needs to be meet, I must hurt first.
(3) I am essentially worthless, while intellectually knowing better.
In essence, a masochistic orientation to reality will create a circumstantial reality that is defined by personal crucifixion; to compulsively sacrifice oneself in a myriad of ways. When atonement is linked with guilt the behavioral manifestation can only lead to pain and crisis. Self-sacrificial behavior, pain, and the creation of inner and outer crisis generates an analytical consciousness wherein analysis linked with crisis, etc., produces self-knowledge. In effect, a masochistic type can only learn about themselves through the creation of crisis and the analysis of self that this will produce. Crisis also has the affect of removing the psychology of denial and avoidance of the truth because of the repetitive nature of crisis formation in the masochist. At some point, the masochist will simply become totally exhausted from the cycle of repetitive crisis and desire to change. When this occurs, the blinders of excuse making will come off. Reality will set in. They can change.
In relationships, the masochist compulsively and habitually attracts one of two types of people. One type is what I call the "emotional wounded birds" of this world. This is the type that needs extensive emotional and psychological healing or repair. They are quite typically very narcissistic (aha!), and have no real capacity to acknowledge the actual needs or identity of their masochistic partner. Typically, they are so deeply insecure that they will create and idea or image in their minds of who they think their masochistic partner is, and then expect that partner to be that idea or image. Consequently, the masochistic partner is left feeling completely misunderstood and invalidated, no matter how many confrontations or pleas for recognition occur. In this situation, the masochistic person does almost all the giving, and is constantly putting out the emotional brush fires that the 'wounded bird' is creating. It is as if the masochistic partner might as well walk around the house with a white uniform on, red cross on the shoulder, and a name tag on the breast !
The other type that the masochist will attract is what I call the "silver tongue devil type". This is the type who knows how to present them self; they know what to say in order to "hook" the masochistic type (want to go for brunch? I love you Hyde!). Yet, once the masochist bites on the hook and makes the decision to be in the relationship, the actual emotional and psychological agenda or reality of the 'silver tongue devil' becomes revealed. And this reality has nothing to do with their original presentation of them self. At this point, the masochist becomes totally disillusioned; another crisis is at hand. This is also the type that can promise change in order to re-secure the relationship. Yet, once it is resecured they revert to the old patterns. And, of course, these two types that the masochist can attract can be combined in the same person.
The masochistic type of person reflects a natural kind of innocence that creates naivete and gullibility. They naturally see the spirit or POTENTIAL of an individual, and then expect the person to either be the potential that they perceive, or to actualize what their spirit reflects. Rarely, if ever, do their partners do either. Thus, disillusionment sets in; more crisis. Masochists have a need to be needed; they live for it.
On Sadism (or Narc):
In the sadistic pathology anger is linked with guilt instead of atonement. As a result, the subconscious messages or thought patterns become these:
(1) I have been made to feel guilty and I am angry because of it. Thus, I want to hurt others, and make them feel as guilty or as bad as I do.
(2) I want to make others atone for their mistakes or sins. I want to humiliate others so that I will humiliate myself.
(3) By punishing others for their imperfections, mistakes, or sins I am punishing myself. And, again, this pathology will also make excuses sounding like rational reasons as a way of avoiding/denying the truth of what is actually happening.
These three thought patterns will thus create a circumstantial reality that is defined, is essence, by dominance and submission; the master/slave, superior/inferior, and the victor and vanquished orientations to reality. In men, this leads to a related dynamic that is projected upon women: an underlying or latent fear called the castration complex. For women, who can also be sadistic, the castration complex also applies. This complex is psychological, not literal ! The essence of this complex is the fear or feeling that the opposite gender will disempower, undermine, capture, enslave, or in some undefined way destroy oneself. Consequently, the sadistic pathology will desire to hurt another first, to attack first, to destroy first, to "get even" first, before it allows itself to get hurt, etc.
For individuals who are defined by this sadistic pathology, there is always an underlying feeling that someone or somebody is out to get them, to attack them, to hurt them, and to victimize them. And instead of feeling that they deserve this, as the masochist does, they will feel victimized by such feelings. The masochist also feels victimized. But the masochist feels that they deserve to be punished; to be a victim. The sadist feels only anger because of feeling victimized in this way. When anger reacts to the feeling of being victimized in this way, then the anger can only destroy or hurt others; to punish others for the underlying guilt that resides in these individuals psyche or subconscious.
Anyway, all this is too much for me to process right now. I think I need to stop overanalyzing and start just doing my work, staying off the booze and spending time with good friends. I've got to get working on that paper that I didn't get to this morning. Shit though, Narc strikes again. He's like a little worm in my heart and in my mind.
-stupid hyde-
I was supposed to be up at 6:00 am today to work on a paper due this afternoon, but it didn't happen. Any guesses why? Drunk-Narc once again reared his ugly head.
Yesterday after teaching and after voice lessons and after German class and after shopping for earrings with Hammer, I stopped over at Cheers and finished up my reading for class. I hung out with BarMan (and briefly with FightingMensch), only drinking diet coke, so I was very proud of myself. Later, B came by and we watched 24 together. I was in bed by midnight or so, but didn't fall asleep until around 1:30-ish. At 4:04 am, my phone rang. It was Narc. I missed the call, but he left me a message. He said:
Hyde, it's Narc. Um... I don' t really know what to say to you. Um... (akward laugh) Obviously, I don't know what to say to you. Um... I would like it if you would um call me back. That's all I can say. Alright. I bid you well. Bye.
Now, I know I shouldn't have called him back. But I'm in love and I've been feeling heartbroken and the last thing I heard from him was that he's "going off the radar" because he's "seeing someone else." Anyway, I called him back.
Since the following conversations took place between 4:00 and 5:00 am, I can't remember all the details, but here are the basics:
He called and told me that he wanted me to come down there and fuck him. (So far, no surprises). I said that I was in bed, and that I wasn't going anywere.
"I only called you back because I wanted to see what you wanted," I told him. "Anyway, I thought you were 'off the radar' and that you have some new girl."
"Well, the thing is, Hyde... That relationship--that was tentative. Whatever..." he said. "The point is that I want you, here, now!"
"I don't think so," I told him. "What possible reason do I have to go see you?"
"Because I need you. I need you here and I love you."
What?!?!
"What? Did you just say that you love me? I mean, c'mon, Narc... Stop with the bullshit!"
"It's not bullshit."
"Narc, you told me to go away. You pushed me away. You said you're sick of my histrionics. You said that you are 'off the alcohol and off me' and that you don't want me to--"
He cut me off.
"Shut the fuck up!" he said. "Shut the fuck up. Just shut your fucking mouth and stop being a bitch."
(Uh oh, here comes infantile Narc...)
I didn't say anything. There was a really long pause--one that lasted at least for a few minutes. I wasn't even sure that he hadn't hung up. My dear old Dr. Jekyll-side kept telling me to hang up with him, but I couldn't. He has my heart in a vice, no matter how shitty he acts. I could hear his TV on in the background.
"What are you watching?" I asked.
"I don't know... MTV or something? It's Prince..."
"Prince?"
He started singing Purple Rain. He was slurring his words and was way off tune--really drunk.
"Narc, maybe you should go to bed. You're obviously drunk. I know you're going to be embarassed about this in the morning and wish you hadn't called me. I know that I regret it when I drunk-dial you... You're saying things that you don't really mean."
"Don't worry about it," he said. "I regret nothing. And I'm not drunk."
"I think you are."
"You're the one who's always drunk. Didn't you just get back from your bar?"
"No. I told you that I've been asleep in bed. You know I don't go out on Monday nights. It's 24 night. I've been home since 7:00."
"I know you Hyde. Yup, I know you. Wanna know what I know? I knew that you'd call me right back."
"Oh, really? How did you know that?"
"You just would. Because that's who you are to me. And you're gonna come down here now. So c'mon. Come down here now and fuck me."
"Narc, I told you that I'm not going to."
"Why? You can get up for whatever you have to tomorrow."
"It's not that. I don't want to."
"You don't want to? Stop being such a stupid bitch."
"I'm not."
"Fuck you, Hyde. Fuck you."
"Whatever, Narc! You told me that you are seeing someone else. That made me so fucking sad. I've been heartbroken all week. Now you want me to come running?"
"Well, I'm heartbroken right now because you're not here. I want to show you. I want to teach you what it's like to be held by someone."
"Bullshit, Narc! Bullshit that you're 'heartbroken.' You don't give a shit. And don't forget--I already know what it's like to be held by you. It's a very short lived experience."
From there, the conversation just deteriorated. He told me to "shut the fuck up," called me a bitch a few more times and told me to "fuck off" in general. Then he hung up on me.
He called back a few minutes later. Stupid Hyde answered the phone.
"Narc, I'm not going to do this anymore tonight. Let's just say goodnight. I'm not going to come down there. I need to go to sleep and that's all. So goodnight."
"What the fuck, Hyde? I just want to be with you. I told you that I miss you and I love you. I told you that I need you. It's not that hard to figure out. In fact, it's not fucking rocket science. I want you here. So why the fuck aren't you here? I want you to be here right now."
"Narc, you're seeing someone else. I can't do that. Whatever shit you want to dish out, it stops for me right there. That, I can't handle. So I'm not coming. I just can't do this anymore."
"I'm not seeing anyone else."
"What? Then why did you say that you were?"
"Because I needed to get you away from me."
(My honest opinion--I think he had a date the Saturday before Easter, but that it was a casual internet-dating thing and didn't pan out.)
"So you want to get me away from you? Thanks. That's real incentive for me to come down there. You don't have to pretend to be seeing someone to get rid of me. I'm an adult. You can just ask me to leave you alone. I'll go."
"I don't want you to go. Aren't you fucking listening to me, Hyde? Why are you acting like such a stupid bitch and getting so upset?"
"Well, for one, how about all of the names you've been calling me?"
"Like what?"
"Well, you just called me a bitch like 20 times, and told me to 'shut the fuck up' repeatedly."
"I never called you a bitch."
"Narc, you just did! Just a minute ago! You know that you did!"
He didn't say anything.
"But honestly, Narc, I can deal with that. You're drunk. Whatever. That's not even what bothers me the most."
"Oh? What bothers you the most? I can't wait to hear this one! C'mon Hyde... Give it to me. Just give it to me. Fuck me with it, then, like you will... I've heard it all. I've heard it all by now. There's nothing else you can say. What did I do this time?"
"Okay--Well, it's the way you treat me like a fucking yo-yo with no regard for my feelings. You invited me to come see you a week ago Sunday; you held me and 'made love' to me and said such loving things. When I left you said: 'see you soon.' After that, you ignored my calls for a week and when I finally did hear from you, it was only to tell me that you were going 'off the radar' and seeing someone else. You basically told me to just go away and forget all about you because you had found someone better. I've been trying to process that and move on, and now out of nowhere, you're calling me to say you love me and need me and cursing me when I won't come fuck you. What the hell?"
"You know what? Fine, Hyde.... Fine! I'm just an awful person, right? A fucking awful person! Is that what you're saying? I'm just the most horrible person there is."
I didn't say anything. The silence hung there for a few minutes. Then--
"You know what? Fuck you, bitch."
He hung up on me again.
A few minutes later, one more call from Narc. Masochistic-Hyde answered the phone. I guess I wasn't done getting beaten up yet.
"Hyde, this is stupid. Just come down here and fuck me." (He sounded annoyed and frustrated now).
"Narc, I want to go to sleep. I'm too sad for this. I can't do this, I just--"
He cut me off again. "Shut the fuck up with that again Hyde! You're making it impossible for me. You know? You make it impossible for me to be with you. Just shut the fuck up!"
I kept trying to talk and he kept talking over me, not letting me get a word in, telling me to shut up. I raised my voice (but not so loud that I would wake up B who was sleeping in the other room).
"Narc, you obviously don't care about my feelings if you won't even let me talk!"
"Fine. So talk. What do you want from me, Hyde?"
"You know what I want."
"What do you want?"
"I want what I can't have." (I felt stupid and disarmed all of a sudden).
"What's that?"
"It doesn't matter what I want. You don't have it to give to me, Narc."
"What is it? Love? I told you I do."
"Well, if this is your love, I want more than love. Respect, I guess. Mutuality."
"'Mutuality?' I don't even know what you're talking about. Besides, you're the one who walked out on me last Sunday."
"What??? I told you I had to teach! After I came running to have sex with you when you called? And I stayed until 3:00 in the morning? Are you honestly mad at me for that? Is that what you've been punishing me for this week, Narc? Is that why you've all of a sudden started 'dating' and cut me out of your life? Because you lost control over one stupid little issue? God Narc, it can't work like that! I mean, my needs obviously mean nothing to you. It's all about you. It's always been about you. You don't give a shit about me! It's been that way from the beginning. What does Narc want when he wants it?"
"Hyde, if you really think that, then you don't know me at all."
"Yeah, well maybe I don't know you. But that's no surprise. You don't want me to know you. You won't let me know you. I tried so many times to get to know you. You just have all these fucking walls up around you and won't let anyone get close to you."
"No. That's you. You're the one with the walls up."
"Not the same kind of walls as you have," I said. "I can't even imagine what yours feel like, they're so thick. Look--I'm sad; I'm hurt; And I can't do this anymore. I have to go." (I honestly felt like I was on the verge of tears, but I knew that if I cried it would make him even angrier at me.)
"Fuck you," he said. "I can't believe you're not going to come down here. I can't believe you're doing this. You really are being a stupid bitch, you know."
And with that, he hung up on me again.
This time, I sent him a text. It was 4:58 am.
Don't understand what u want from me or why you just said you love me & need me. I'm going back to sleep now, but "Be well" (as you like to say). Goodbye, Narc.
(FYI: He always ends his cold "break-up" messages with "Be well.")
He wrote back at 5:02:
Fuck you, fuck me. Christ, deal.
(What does that mean?)
Then he called me back. This time, I didn't answer the phone. He left me an incredibly incoherent message. At 5:07 he said:
Well Hyde,
You can think whatever you want (akward laugh). But I'm sitting here in my apartment, and I have people who are not necessarily supposed to be here in my apartment. And, um... Well... I read lots of video games. And I've played lots of video games, and I'm like, kind of a dork, and you know? I know my shit around the video games. And I know my crap around "Guns and Dragons" and all that crap. You know what? So I'm alright. I'm alright with this arbitration. You know what? I'm watching this arbitration and I haven't made my mind up yet, actually. I thought I'd be, you know, pretty-- you know, I thought I knew pretty much... I thought I had it but, you know what? I'm watching these two... And they love it so much. I just can't. I don't know. I can't, um, I can't... I can't access it. I just um, I want to see it. I want to see it. And YOU should see it. And you should call me back. You know what? If you have this number then call me back. If you do, then do. Bye!
Anyone care to try to decode that for me? Is he talking about arbitration between the two of us? Is he saying that he'll be alright without me because he has his games? Who are the "unecessary people" in his apartment? All interpretations are welcome! (Although probably not worth it.)
Anyway, I'm off to see my therapist who thinks I'm an emotional masochist. I'm starting to think that she's right.
So of course, I had to look it up on the internet. Are Narc and I just locked in some kind of awful sado-masochistic emotional hold? Here's some food for thought (this is cut and pasted from some website):
On Masochism (or Hyde):
In a masochistic pathology there will always be three messages, or thought patterns, that permeate the subconscious of such individuals. These underlying thought patterns will thus condition, control, and create the circumstantial realities of the masochistic type of person. These three thought patterns are:
(1) I deserve pain, punishment, crisis, suffering, humility ( to be humiliated), and denial and I do not know why. In addition, the dynamic of denial /avoidance expresses itself as a suppression of the truth that is causing this too occur in such a way as to make excuses that will always sound like rational reasons in order to justify such conditions. And within this the related thought: there must be something wrong with me.
(2) For my needs to be meet, I must hurt first.
(3) I am essentially worthless, while intellectually knowing better.
In essence, a masochistic orientation to reality will create a circumstantial reality that is defined by personal crucifixion; to compulsively sacrifice oneself in a myriad of ways. When atonement is linked with guilt the behavioral manifestation can only lead to pain and crisis. Self-sacrificial behavior, pain, and the creation of inner and outer crisis generates an analytical consciousness wherein analysis linked with crisis, etc., produces self-knowledge. In effect, a masochistic type can only learn about themselves through the creation of crisis and the analysis of self that this will produce. Crisis also has the affect of removing the psychology of denial and avoidance of the truth because of the repetitive nature of crisis formation in the masochist. At some point, the masochist will simply become totally exhausted from the cycle of repetitive crisis and desire to change. When this occurs, the blinders of excuse making will come off. Reality will set in. They can change.
In relationships, the masochist compulsively and habitually attracts one of two types of people. One type is what I call the "emotional wounded birds" of this world. This is the type that needs extensive emotional and psychological healing or repair. They are quite typically very narcissistic (aha!), and have no real capacity to acknowledge the actual needs or identity of their masochistic partner. Typically, they are so deeply insecure that they will create and idea or image in their minds of who they think their masochistic partner is, and then expect that partner to be that idea or image. Consequently, the masochistic partner is left feeling completely misunderstood and invalidated, no matter how many confrontations or pleas for recognition occur. In this situation, the masochistic person does almost all the giving, and is constantly putting out the emotional brush fires that the 'wounded bird' is creating. It is as if the masochistic partner might as well walk around the house with a white uniform on, red cross on the shoulder, and a name tag on the breast !
The other type that the masochist will attract is what I call the "silver tongue devil type". This is the type who knows how to present them self; they know what to say in order to "hook" the masochistic type (want to go for brunch? I love you Hyde!). Yet, once the masochist bites on the hook and makes the decision to be in the relationship, the actual emotional and psychological agenda or reality of the 'silver tongue devil' becomes revealed. And this reality has nothing to do with their original presentation of them self. At this point, the masochist becomes totally disillusioned; another crisis is at hand. This is also the type that can promise change in order to re-secure the relationship. Yet, once it is resecured they revert to the old patterns. And, of course, these two types that the masochist can attract can be combined in the same person.
The masochistic type of person reflects a natural kind of innocence that creates naivete and gullibility. They naturally see the spirit or POTENTIAL of an individual, and then expect the person to either be the potential that they perceive, or to actualize what their spirit reflects. Rarely, if ever, do their partners do either. Thus, disillusionment sets in; more crisis. Masochists have a need to be needed; they live for it.
On Sadism (or Narc):
In the sadistic pathology anger is linked with guilt instead of atonement. As a result, the subconscious messages or thought patterns become these:
(1) I have been made to feel guilty and I am angry because of it. Thus, I want to hurt others, and make them feel as guilty or as bad as I do.
(2) I want to make others atone for their mistakes or sins. I want to humiliate others so that I will humiliate myself.
(3) By punishing others for their imperfections, mistakes, or sins I am punishing myself. And, again, this pathology will also make excuses sounding like rational reasons as a way of avoiding/denying the truth of what is actually happening.
These three thought patterns will thus create a circumstantial reality that is defined, is essence, by dominance and submission; the master/slave, superior/inferior, and the victor and vanquished orientations to reality. In men, this leads to a related dynamic that is projected upon women: an underlying or latent fear called the castration complex. For women, who can also be sadistic, the castration complex also applies. This complex is psychological, not literal ! The essence of this complex is the fear or feeling that the opposite gender will disempower, undermine, capture, enslave, or in some undefined way destroy oneself. Consequently, the sadistic pathology will desire to hurt another first, to attack first, to destroy first, to "get even" first, before it allows itself to get hurt, etc.
For individuals who are defined by this sadistic pathology, there is always an underlying feeling that someone or somebody is out to get them, to attack them, to hurt them, and to victimize them. And instead of feeling that they deserve this, as the masochist does, they will feel victimized by such feelings. The masochist also feels victimized. But the masochist feels that they deserve to be punished; to be a victim. The sadist feels only anger because of feeling victimized in this way. When anger reacts to the feeling of being victimized in this way, then the anger can only destroy or hurt others; to punish others for the underlying guilt that resides in these individuals psyche or subconscious.
Anyway, all this is too much for me to process right now. I think I need to stop overanalyzing and start just doing my work, staying off the booze and spending time with good friends. I've got to get working on that paper that I didn't get to this morning. Shit though, Narc strikes again. He's like a little worm in my heart and in my mind.
-stupid hyde-
Sunday, April 03, 2005
A Date? Or Not a Date? That is the Question!
Friday was a rough day. I was WIPED OUT by the teaching on such little sleep. Afterwards, I went to synagogue with NextDoorNeighbor for the kabbalat service. It was a beautiful service, but the hour of singing put just a little too much strain on my already taxed voice (after six hours of lecturing) and made it nearly impossible to sing at my voice lesson the next morning.
After the service, NextDoorNeighbor wanted me to go down to Chinatown with him for some Vietnamese food. I really didn't want to go. I was so fucking tired that I imagined myself on the brink of collapse. But he twisted my arm a little, and because I'm really bad at saying no, I ended up agreeing to the dinner. We took the train down to Canal Street and ended up having to walk a million blocks to get to the restaurant he wanted. I was annoyed. He was obsessing about some girl not calling him back. Once we got seated and I got some food in me, I had a second wind and ended up having a good time. In the middle of dinner, B called me. He was really depressed and was having a hard night. He asked if he could see me. I was majorly in need of the downtime, myself, so I told him to meet me at my apartment. I got back around 10:00 and we stayed in for the rest of the night. I miss having those nights with him--just lounging around and talking and being cozy. I miss them a lot.
The next morning, after my voice lesson, I arranged to meet Hammer at the library. On my way there, a gust of wind blew and shattered the glass frame on the bus shelter. The glass was everywhere. Being my mother's daughter (as Hammer pointed out), I felt responsible to make sure it was taken care of and called the city-information line (311) to report the damage. It ended up being more trouble than it was worth because they made me give a whole complicated statement and fill out a "service request" and had to take my name, address and phone number. All that for trying to be a good samaritan!
While we were on our way into the library, the Stallion called. I felt a little weird talking to him after our last encounter. He wanted to make plans for later in the evening, and I told him I wasn't sure if I would be free. I don't want to make things that easy for him! I don't even know if I want to see him at all right now, you know? Anyway, I asked if his girlfriend left town and he said that she ended up just staying for a few days because he's so busy with work. Whatever...
Hammer and I left the library at 6:00 when it closed. On my way home, I stopped in at Cheers. Saturday early-evening is one of my favorite times to go there because it's usually pretty empty, and BarMan is usually bored, and we can have a good conversation. It was emptier than usual this Saturday because of the pouring rain. I hung out there for a good three hours talking to him. He told me to try Jameson instead of Jack and I did. It was fabulous, although I felt a little disloyal. The Jameson was very smooth, whereas Jack kicks your ass and brutalizes you a bit as it goes down. (Then again, I think that's part of what attracted me to Mr. Daniels to begin with! (;->))
I found out some interesting new facts about BarMan--he's a trained dancer! I definitely would never have guessed that! But now that I know that, I can so see it-- he must have had boy-band dreams at one point. I think he would get along well with Bro-in-Law in that department! BarMan gave me some really excellent relationship advice and advice about life in general. (He even drew a diagram, but it's hard to explain and I'm too lazy to try). I really like him. PumpedUp came in at one point and I was the only customer in the place. Then my Super stopped by over there to help them fix the roof. After six or seven whiskeys I decided that dinner would be a good idea so I picked up a few slices of pizza and headed home.
Hammer tells me we had a long conversation at that point (around 9:30 or so), but I don't remember it. It's weird that I wouldn't remember since I felt relatively sober when I got the pizza. I guess the alcohol waited before it took total effect. Also, I usually don't get blackout periods after so few drinks. I hope it isn't a sign of any kind of physical dependency. The next thing I knew, I was asleep.
When I woke up, it was 2:30 in the morning. I saw that I had drunk-texted Narc. (Shit!) I hate him. I hate me too for having texted him. Ughhhh! What do you guys think I did next? Yep! I headed back to Cheers to continue the night. PumpedUp and FightingMensch cheered when I came in. I think they always have some kind of running bet about me closing out the place. I started up on the Jameson again and drank for the next hour or so, chatting with IrishBird, singing along and doing a few karaoke songs myself. I saw MarriedGuy there watching me, but I ignored him and didn't say hello. At one point, NextDoorNeighbor texted me to see if I was out and about. I told him to come meet me at Cheers, but to hurry because they were closing soon. When he got there, we talked for a while, and he tells me that I was also talking to the flirty Colombian. He says that I told the Colombian that he was "mean to me" last week (the Thursday night I was there with the Stallion, I guess). NextDoorNeighbor also tells me that I was wanting to call the Stallion and was really sad about Narc. He told the flirty Colombian to take my phone and hold onto it until I left so that I couldn't place any "self-destructive" phone calls. I don't really remember any of this part, but NextDoorNeighbor says that he left around 4:00 am and that I was still there, as they were closing up.
The next morning, my alarm went off, but I realized too late that I forgot to turn my clock forward. I was supposed to meet BigSis and Bro-in-Law at Penn Station to go out and see my brother. There was no way I was going to make that train! As I was getting ready, the doorbell rang. It was NextDoorNeighbor. He said he just wanted to make sure that I got up. I was still really very drunk and I couldn't find my phone. He filled me in on having given it to the flirty Colombian and said that if I didn't have it, the Colombian must. I managed to catch the next train, but I was really wrecked. There wasn't much I could do to camouflage it.
When I got to the hospital, BigSis and Bro-in-Law were there with my mom. My stepbrother was sitting up in a wheelchair (which was a new sight for me!), but he was fast asleep. Apparently, there were more pain-killer issues this week and for some reason, he was sedated. So it was more of a visit with my mom and BigSis and Bro-in-Law than it was with my stepbrother. BigSis told me that I looked like I had been through the ringer and that it was really obvious I had been out drinking. I'm sure it freaked my mom out, but she didn't say anything to me. Drinking is a big issue in my family. I felt guilty and tried to act as "normal" as possible. We stayed there until around 1:30 when my stepfather arrived. BigSis and Bro-in-Law had plans to meet a realtor in Forest Hills because they're looking to buy an apartment. My mom was going with them to help. Since it was in the direction of the city, and out of curiosity, I went with them to see the first one. It was right by the E-express train, so I left them after that and took the subway back into Manhattan.
On the way back to my place I stopped by Cheers to look for my phone. They were closed, but I tapped on the window and PumpedUp's dad opened the door for me. I told him I lost the phone and he called PumpedUp. PumpedUp said I lose something "every week." (Well, he's almost right.) I told them that NextDoorNeighbor gave my phone to the flirty Colombian. They said they'd call him. I went home, but a few minutes later, the doorman rang up. PumpedUp's dad had spoken to the Colombian and he did, indeed, have my phone. They gave me his number so I could arrange to get it.
I called the Colombian and asked about the phone. He said that he had walked me home last night and that I passed out on my sofa. He said that he forgot to give the phone back.
"Well, where do you live?" I asked. "I can come get it."
"I'm in Jersey, but I'll be in the city."
"You'll be in the city today?"
"Yes, I'll come bring it to you. What time do you want to meet? We can go for coffee, perhaps?"
(Was this going to be a phone exchange or a date? I kind of felt suckered into that one.)
I agreed to coffee and told him to meet me at 5:30 at a nearby Starbucks. When I went to meet him, though, he didn't show. I came back home to call him. It turns out that he forgot to set his clock forward too! I waited at my place and he came over at around 6:30. When he got to the door, he kissed me hello and gave me a hug that was a little more than the kind of hug you'd give to greet a stranger. (Uh oh...) His eyes were red and watery and I asked him why.
"I don't know," he said. "Maybe it's still from your cat."
(So he was in my house long enough to have an allergy problem? Uh oh....)
We set out for Starbucks where we sat and talked for about two hours. He is really a very nice guy. He paid for my coffee and was holding the door and being all chivalrous, so I think he saw it as a "date," but I wasn't sure how to think of the whole thing. I mean, I didn't dress up for him--in fact, I was in my "downtime" blue sweatshirt and very little makeup. I was also a little physically standoff-ish because I'm not sure what went down between us the night before. At some point, the conversation swung around to the topic of my drinking. I decided to test the waters to see what I could find out about the night before without making things too uncomfortable.
"I know I've been drinking way too much," I said. "Especially now with the frequent blackouts. I mean, I remember talking to you and NextDoorNeighbor and feeling just fine, but that's the last thing I remember."
He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. (Uh oh!) I really hope I didn't do anything sexual with him that I can't remember. I mean, from his body language and his vibes, I must have at least kissed him, but I'm betting that it didn't go further than that. He wasn't drunk at all, and I was wasted, so it would have clearly been "taking advantage" of me, and he seems too chivalrous for that. I mean, he was treating me with respect and trying to "court me" a little so I'm guessing that we didn't... I don't know. I'm not used to nice guys, so I guess I don't know how to read them.
Anyway, that's it for now. I told him I had to head home to get some grading done (which I do) so I'm off to do some work now. Also, my house is an absolute pig sty, so I need to straighten up a bit.
Hope you all had a good weekend!
lol,
Hyde
PS: I was listening to my Elvis Gospel CD and there's a really funny song which contains the following verse about Job. It always makes me laugh so much (especially the last line, and especially because it's so not what the story of Job was about!!!) Don't know if you guys share my bizarre sense of humor, but here it is:
Job was so sick so long
Till the flesh fell from his bones
His wife, cattle and children,
Everything that he had was gone
But Job he never dispaired
He knew that God still cared
Sleepless days and sleepless nights
Job said "honey, that's all right"
P.P.S: Scheizer! I think I just got the answer to my title question. I guess the Colombian does think it was a date. I just got an "invitation" from him to download MSN messenger (which I happen to already have), but he wrote:
hi beauty!!! I chose to come to my home rather than go to the movies, don't work so hard ok!
COLOMBIAN
Now what???
After the service, NextDoorNeighbor wanted me to go down to Chinatown with him for some Vietnamese food. I really didn't want to go. I was so fucking tired that I imagined myself on the brink of collapse. But he twisted my arm a little, and because I'm really bad at saying no, I ended up agreeing to the dinner. We took the train down to Canal Street and ended up having to walk a million blocks to get to the restaurant he wanted. I was annoyed. He was obsessing about some girl not calling him back. Once we got seated and I got some food in me, I had a second wind and ended up having a good time. In the middle of dinner, B called me. He was really depressed and was having a hard night. He asked if he could see me. I was majorly in need of the downtime, myself, so I told him to meet me at my apartment. I got back around 10:00 and we stayed in for the rest of the night. I miss having those nights with him--just lounging around and talking and being cozy. I miss them a lot.
The next morning, after my voice lesson, I arranged to meet Hammer at the library. On my way there, a gust of wind blew and shattered the glass frame on the bus shelter. The glass was everywhere. Being my mother's daughter (as Hammer pointed out), I felt responsible to make sure it was taken care of and called the city-information line (311) to report the damage. It ended up being more trouble than it was worth because they made me give a whole complicated statement and fill out a "service request" and had to take my name, address and phone number. All that for trying to be a good samaritan!
While we were on our way into the library, the Stallion called. I felt a little weird talking to him after our last encounter. He wanted to make plans for later in the evening, and I told him I wasn't sure if I would be free. I don't want to make things that easy for him! I don't even know if I want to see him at all right now, you know? Anyway, I asked if his girlfriend left town and he said that she ended up just staying for a few days because he's so busy with work. Whatever...
Hammer and I left the library at 6:00 when it closed. On my way home, I stopped in at Cheers. Saturday early-evening is one of my favorite times to go there because it's usually pretty empty, and BarMan is usually bored, and we can have a good conversation. It was emptier than usual this Saturday because of the pouring rain. I hung out there for a good three hours talking to him. He told me to try Jameson instead of Jack and I did. It was fabulous, although I felt a little disloyal. The Jameson was very smooth, whereas Jack kicks your ass and brutalizes you a bit as it goes down. (Then again, I think that's part of what attracted me to Mr. Daniels to begin with! (;->))
I found out some interesting new facts about BarMan--he's a trained dancer! I definitely would never have guessed that! But now that I know that, I can so see it-- he must have had boy-band dreams at one point. I think he would get along well with Bro-in-Law in that department! BarMan gave me some really excellent relationship advice and advice about life in general. (He even drew a diagram, but it's hard to explain and I'm too lazy to try). I really like him. PumpedUp came in at one point and I was the only customer in the place. Then my Super stopped by over there to help them fix the roof. After six or seven whiskeys I decided that dinner would be a good idea so I picked up a few slices of pizza and headed home.
Hammer tells me we had a long conversation at that point (around 9:30 or so), but I don't remember it. It's weird that I wouldn't remember since I felt relatively sober when I got the pizza. I guess the alcohol waited before it took total effect. Also, I usually don't get blackout periods after so few drinks. I hope it isn't a sign of any kind of physical dependency. The next thing I knew, I was asleep.
When I woke up, it was 2:30 in the morning. I saw that I had drunk-texted Narc. (Shit!) I hate him. I hate me too for having texted him. Ughhhh! What do you guys think I did next? Yep! I headed back to Cheers to continue the night. PumpedUp and FightingMensch cheered when I came in. I think they always have some kind of running bet about me closing out the place. I started up on the Jameson again and drank for the next hour or so, chatting with IrishBird, singing along and doing a few karaoke songs myself. I saw MarriedGuy there watching me, but I ignored him and didn't say hello. At one point, NextDoorNeighbor texted me to see if I was out and about. I told him to come meet me at Cheers, but to hurry because they were closing soon. When he got there, we talked for a while, and he tells me that I was also talking to the flirty Colombian. He says that I told the Colombian that he was "mean to me" last week (the Thursday night I was there with the Stallion, I guess). NextDoorNeighbor also tells me that I was wanting to call the Stallion and was really sad about Narc. He told the flirty Colombian to take my phone and hold onto it until I left so that I couldn't place any "self-destructive" phone calls. I don't really remember any of this part, but NextDoorNeighbor says that he left around 4:00 am and that I was still there, as they were closing up.
The next morning, my alarm went off, but I realized too late that I forgot to turn my clock forward. I was supposed to meet BigSis and Bro-in-Law at Penn Station to go out and see my brother. There was no way I was going to make that train! As I was getting ready, the doorbell rang. It was NextDoorNeighbor. He said he just wanted to make sure that I got up. I was still really very drunk and I couldn't find my phone. He filled me in on having given it to the flirty Colombian and said that if I didn't have it, the Colombian must. I managed to catch the next train, but I was really wrecked. There wasn't much I could do to camouflage it.
When I got to the hospital, BigSis and Bro-in-Law were there with my mom. My stepbrother was sitting up in a wheelchair (which was a new sight for me!), but he was fast asleep. Apparently, there were more pain-killer issues this week and for some reason, he was sedated. So it was more of a visit with my mom and BigSis and Bro-in-Law than it was with my stepbrother. BigSis told me that I looked like I had been through the ringer and that it was really obvious I had been out drinking. I'm sure it freaked my mom out, but she didn't say anything to me. Drinking is a big issue in my family. I felt guilty and tried to act as "normal" as possible. We stayed there until around 1:30 when my stepfather arrived. BigSis and Bro-in-Law had plans to meet a realtor in Forest Hills because they're looking to buy an apartment. My mom was going with them to help. Since it was in the direction of the city, and out of curiosity, I went with them to see the first one. It was right by the E-express train, so I left them after that and took the subway back into Manhattan.
On the way back to my place I stopped by Cheers to look for my phone. They were closed, but I tapped on the window and PumpedUp's dad opened the door for me. I told him I lost the phone and he called PumpedUp. PumpedUp said I lose something "every week." (Well, he's almost right.) I told them that NextDoorNeighbor gave my phone to the flirty Colombian. They said they'd call him. I went home, but a few minutes later, the doorman rang up. PumpedUp's dad had spoken to the Colombian and he did, indeed, have my phone. They gave me his number so I could arrange to get it.
I called the Colombian and asked about the phone. He said that he had walked me home last night and that I passed out on my sofa. He said that he forgot to give the phone back.
"Well, where do you live?" I asked. "I can come get it."
"I'm in Jersey, but I'll be in the city."
"You'll be in the city today?"
"Yes, I'll come bring it to you. What time do you want to meet? We can go for coffee, perhaps?"
(Was this going to be a phone exchange or a date? I kind of felt suckered into that one.)
I agreed to coffee and told him to meet me at 5:30 at a nearby Starbucks. When I went to meet him, though, he didn't show. I came back home to call him. It turns out that he forgot to set his clock forward too! I waited at my place and he came over at around 6:30. When he got to the door, he kissed me hello and gave me a hug that was a little more than the kind of hug you'd give to greet a stranger. (Uh oh...) His eyes were red and watery and I asked him why.
"I don't know," he said. "Maybe it's still from your cat."
(So he was in my house long enough to have an allergy problem? Uh oh....)
We set out for Starbucks where we sat and talked for about two hours. He is really a very nice guy. He paid for my coffee and was holding the door and being all chivalrous, so I think he saw it as a "date," but I wasn't sure how to think of the whole thing. I mean, I didn't dress up for him--in fact, I was in my "downtime" blue sweatshirt and very little makeup. I was also a little physically standoff-ish because I'm not sure what went down between us the night before. At some point, the conversation swung around to the topic of my drinking. I decided to test the waters to see what I could find out about the night before without making things too uncomfortable.
"I know I've been drinking way too much," I said. "Especially now with the frequent blackouts. I mean, I remember talking to you and NextDoorNeighbor and feeling just fine, but that's the last thing I remember."
He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. (Uh oh!) I really hope I didn't do anything sexual with him that I can't remember. I mean, from his body language and his vibes, I must have at least kissed him, but I'm betting that it didn't go further than that. He wasn't drunk at all, and I was wasted, so it would have clearly been "taking advantage" of me, and he seems too chivalrous for that. I mean, he was treating me with respect and trying to "court me" a little so I'm guessing that we didn't... I don't know. I'm not used to nice guys, so I guess I don't know how to read them.
Anyway, that's it for now. I told him I had to head home to get some grading done (which I do) so I'm off to do some work now. Also, my house is an absolute pig sty, so I need to straighten up a bit.
Hope you all had a good weekend!
lol,
Hyde
PS: I was listening to my Elvis Gospel CD and there's a really funny song which contains the following verse about Job. It always makes me laugh so much (especially the last line, and especially because it's so not what the story of Job was about!!!) Don't know if you guys share my bizarre sense of humor, but here it is:
Job was so sick so long
Till the flesh fell from his bones
His wife, cattle and children,
Everything that he had was gone
But Job he never dispaired
He knew that God still cared
Sleepless days and sleepless nights
Job said "honey, that's all right"
P.P.S: Scheizer! I think I just got the answer to my title question. I guess the Colombian does think it was a date. I just got an "invitation" from him to download MSN messenger (which I happen to already have), but he wrote:
hi beauty!!! I chose to come to my home rather than go to the movies, don't work so hard ok!
COLOMBIAN
Now what???
Saturday, April 02, 2005
I Dream of Narc-ey
Last night I had a dream about Narc. Here it is:
B and I were sitting in a McDonald's eating, only it wasn't a McDonald's--it looked more like a Starbucks. (It's a weird setting b/c I haven't eaten McDonald's in years!)
Anyway, I noticed Narc sitting across the room with some girl that he is "now seeing." They were watching some kind of video on his laptop. It was some kind of sex-tape that the two of them had made the night before. The camera was panning around his bedroom. We could see the computer and overhear the sounds of the tape. They weren't actually having sex yet on the tape, but were just talking. Narc was telling her something about me. He said that he felt really bad for me and was telling her that I was pathetic and that he hoped that I could get my life together.
I didn't want them to see me there, so I made B angle himself to have a better view. Narc wouldn't notice him because they've never met. I was reading War & Peace and was trying to lift the book up to block my face. At some point they got up to leave, and walked past us but didn't see us.
Shortly after, B and I got up to leave. When we walked outside, it was hot and sunny. In fact, the street looked just like where the "Von Dutch" store is in South Beach. Anyway, B and I had to part ways. He walked in one direction and I walked in the other.
As I started walking, I saw Narc and his new girl coming towards me. The girl he was with looked like some kind of model/artist type. She was wearing a beret. Narc looked really different too. He looked like he lost a lot of weight and had shaved off his beard. I bowed my head so that they wouldn't see me, but he and I made eye contact anyway, because I couldn't help but look up. He sort of smiled at me uncomfortably. When our eyes locked, my stomach flipped over and my heart started pounding. (I still feel it now.)
Anyway, as they kept on walking, I watched them go. I kept walking too (in the opposite direction from them), but I was walking backwards, so that I could still have a view of them. He stopped and said something to her that I couldn't hear. Then he turned and ran back to meet me.
"How have you been?" I asked.
"Good, but I've missed you," he said. He put his arm around me and started pulling me forward (in the same direction B had gone when we left the restaurant).
"I don't understand. I thought we were done," I said.
"Well, I have a few hours to see you now. She won't be home until after her meeting with friends. I have about four hours and I can fit you in. I want to see you."
We were walking pretty fast. He was kind of pulling me.
"I don' t know," I said. I could feel the pain welling up in my chest. "I just don't know if I should."
"You should."
I kind of pulled away from him and he pushed me down onto the ground, right there on the sidewalk and got on top of me. The sidewalk was hot from the sun and I was struggling underneath him, but he started to pull my clothes off. I saw B up ahead. He was with Bro-in-Law.
"B! B!" I cried out. "Come help me!"
The two of them came running back and shouted for him to get off of me. B started punching Narc in the neck. Narc was still mauling me, but turned around to glare at B and his eyes were glowing like a wolf's or something...
I got really concerned that Narc was going to hurt B.
"It's okay," I kept crying. "I'm fine. Just go on, I don't want him to hurt you!"
B wouldn't listen, and kept hitting Narc, but it didn't seem to be having any impact and I knew that Narc was about to twist his arm off. Bro-in-Law just stood there looking concerned.
I don't remember anything else. I think I woke up at that point. But I've had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach all afternoon.
-h
B and I were sitting in a McDonald's eating, only it wasn't a McDonald's--it looked more like a Starbucks. (It's a weird setting b/c I haven't eaten McDonald's in years!)
Anyway, I noticed Narc sitting across the room with some girl that he is "now seeing." They were watching some kind of video on his laptop. It was some kind of sex-tape that the two of them had made the night before. The camera was panning around his bedroom. We could see the computer and overhear the sounds of the tape. They weren't actually having sex yet on the tape, but were just talking. Narc was telling her something about me. He said that he felt really bad for me and was telling her that I was pathetic and that he hoped that I could get my life together.
I didn't want them to see me there, so I made B angle himself to have a better view. Narc wouldn't notice him because they've never met. I was reading War & Peace and was trying to lift the book up to block my face. At some point they got up to leave, and walked past us but didn't see us.
Shortly after, B and I got up to leave. When we walked outside, it was hot and sunny. In fact, the street looked just like where the "Von Dutch" store is in South Beach. Anyway, B and I had to part ways. He walked in one direction and I walked in the other.
As I started walking, I saw Narc and his new girl coming towards me. The girl he was with looked like some kind of model/artist type. She was wearing a beret. Narc looked really different too. He looked like he lost a lot of weight and had shaved off his beard. I bowed my head so that they wouldn't see me, but he and I made eye contact anyway, because I couldn't help but look up. He sort of smiled at me uncomfortably. When our eyes locked, my stomach flipped over and my heart started pounding. (I still feel it now.)
Anyway, as they kept on walking, I watched them go. I kept walking too (in the opposite direction from them), but I was walking backwards, so that I could still have a view of them. He stopped and said something to her that I couldn't hear. Then he turned and ran back to meet me.
"How have you been?" I asked.
"Good, but I've missed you," he said. He put his arm around me and started pulling me forward (in the same direction B had gone when we left the restaurant).
"I don't understand. I thought we were done," I said.
"Well, I have a few hours to see you now. She won't be home until after her meeting with friends. I have about four hours and I can fit you in. I want to see you."
We were walking pretty fast. He was kind of pulling me.
"I don' t know," I said. I could feel the pain welling up in my chest. "I just don't know if I should."
"You should."
I kind of pulled away from him and he pushed me down onto the ground, right there on the sidewalk and got on top of me. The sidewalk was hot from the sun and I was struggling underneath him, but he started to pull my clothes off. I saw B up ahead. He was with Bro-in-Law.
"B! B!" I cried out. "Come help me!"
The two of them came running back and shouted for him to get off of me. B started punching Narc in the neck. Narc was still mauling me, but turned around to glare at B and his eyes were glowing like a wolf's or something...
I got really concerned that Narc was going to hurt B.
"It's okay," I kept crying. "I'm fine. Just go on, I don't want him to hurt you!"
B wouldn't listen, and kept hitting Narc, but it didn't seem to be having any impact and I knew that Narc was about to twist his arm off. Bro-in-Law just stood there looking concerned.
I don't remember anything else. I think I woke up at that point. But I've had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach all afternoon.
-h
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