Sometimes it helps me to put the embarrassing things down on paper. By saying (typing) them out loud, they lose a little bit of their edge and that cringe of shame I feel when the memories bubble back up seems to release some of its power over me. As Jean over at UnPickled says in a song she wrote/performed: I DID THAT. NOT PROUD BUT THAT WAS ME. I may not be proud BUT some of this shit is sort of fucking funny in hindsight. Funny in a terrifying Uncle-Charlie-is-shirtless-and-covered-in-baby-oil-at-the-family-barbeque sort of way.
- That one fine Halloween where I got really drunk at home and decided to go out to a party I was invited to when I was in no shape to be going anywhere. I was so lazy about putting together a costume that I just bought a pair of scrubs from the discount store and threw on a wig and fake balloon boobs and rubbed blood all over my face and then went into Manhattan looking wrecked. I was terrified the entire night that one of my boobs would pop. Not because I was concerned about the cohesiveness of my costume but because of how obscenely terrified I am of popping ANYTHING. If people tried to give me a hug or brush up against me, I’d push them away and slur/scream at them to be careful with my tits. HEYBECARFERSOFZMYTIZZZ! When people asked me what I was dressed up as, I told them I was part of NURSES AGAINST OBAMACARE. The next morning, I was told by friends that I had ended the evening by crying for no reason and throwing my entire body into a giant pile of trash bags piled on a street corner in The West Village. I also apparently yelled a lot at the taxi driver for going too slow on the way home. I woke up with my pillow covered in fake blood and makeup. TRICK OR TREAT.
- The one time I got really drunk at a friend’s house during Superbowl and talked a woman into giving me a very intense massage (totally non-sexual, I should add). She is sort of my superior at work and even though she was drunk, too, there has always been a wonky vibe between us ever since then. When me and the boyfriend left to go home, he had to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid. Much of the ferry and train ride is totally blacked out from my memory. I do remember trying to go into the street and he had to pull me back. And I remember him getting mad and yelling at me which caused me to take off in a sprint down the street as if I were trying to lose him somehow. I just remember thinking RUN! RUN, GIRL, RUN! THIS WILL SHOW HIM HOW MUCH HE ACTUALLY CARES ABOUT YOU! RUNNNNN! It didn’t work and I have no idea what in the world I thought I was doing.
- The one time where I was drinking with a friend at my apartment. I went to walk her down the stairs when it came time for her to leave and I ate shit (EDIT: “Ate shit” is slang for falling down. I’m adding this edit because someone was really concerned and asked me why I would have eaten shit) and fell down half the flight and landed on my ankle causing my foot to fold sideways underneath me causing instant and blinding pain. She expressed concern but I did that thing where you laugh a lot and say you are fine. I stood there talking with her for about five minutes until she finally left and I burst into tears. I crawled up the staircase on my hands and knees and went back inside the apartment. I drank a lot more, didn’t bother icing it, and woke up the next morning completely unable to walk. I missed a few days of work because I was immobile and had to crawl everywhere. I never went to the doctor to see if there was serious damage and I still get occasional pain from it.
- The one time I got drunk at a restaurant and convinced my boyfriend to get on a very shady looking carnival ride at the festival happening up the street. It consisted of two pods independent of one another and both on giant hydraulic poles that flipped upside down and flew about 50 feet into the air. The ride made noises like it was tired and depressed and really angry that it had to be doing its job. I screamed bloody murder and my face smashed up against the ceiling of the pod because my seatbelt wasn’t on very tight (I had loosened it once the operator closed the lid of the pod over my head). I pretended it was soooo fun while I was going around and around with my head smashed like a pancake but inside I knew that this was probably how I was going to get dead. I stumbled off the ride and told everyone it was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. Then I ate a fried Oreo.
- Threw an elaborate Christmas party for like 30 friends and started drinking well before they arrived. Woke up the next morning in my bed and was told that I disappeared and passed out about 1 hour into the event. Everyone wondered where I had gone. My boyfriend had to tell them I just wasn’t feeling well. And this has happened at least 2 other times that I can remember.
- Early in my relapse, when drinking was still working okay for me and I wasn’t yet throwing up on people’s faces, I was in heavy training for a half marathon. The night before the race, I carb loaded by eating two orders of Pad Thai and by drinking several bottles of red wine. It seemed like a good idea because I was really nervous about the race and wasn’t sure if I had trained enough/properly since my drinking had started to escalate. I woke up at 4AM totally hungover and feeling miserable. I still went to the race and ran the 13.1 miles in a little over 2 hours. I CAN DO ANYTHING! SEE! DRINKING ISN’T A PROBLEM FOR ME! I STILL DID IT! On the way home, I stopped at a restaurant for brunch and proceeded to drink a Bloody Mary (five) and then got home and passed out. Forgetting to keep hydrating, I woke up later that night unable to move or walk. I somehow got to the liquor store that night and drank until I loosened up and felt like I could run another 1/2 marathon right then and there if I wanted to.
I’m not trying to dwell on the past but as the days continue to roll on by and sobriety gets better and better, flashes of these less than lovely memories keep popping up. I do that thing where I cringe and try to change the subject with myself in my head. DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT! Maybe this little post will do the trick and set these stupid memories free.
Ok. Now. If you care to share, what are some of yours? Hmm??