Two days after the Independence Day celebrations, on July 6th, a friend of ours was a guest DJ at the island’s famous tiki bar. She encouraged people to dress up in their beach party best. Because it’s a tiki bar, and because my friend is also a retro chick, I opted for a kitschy 50’s bathing beauty look, complete with leopard print mini skirt.
I love to get into costume, but this challenged my insecurities quite a bit. I had bare legs and bare arms and shoulders for the most part. I NEVER do that. I decided I’d try my hand at being comfortable with my body, and well it failed because when I got to the tiki bar, I was so extremely self-conscious, add to that my social anxiety, that I jumped right in and ordered a zombie – their most powerful drink. I did this with the mindset that it would loosen me up and I wouldn’t need another drink after that.
Big mistake. I had three or four drinks that afternoon, and was so trashed that a friend had to drive me home. So embarrassing. SO embarrassing.
Part of the reason I got so trashed was because my man was not there to stop me. Usually he assumes a parental role with me to curb my drinking. We agreed on this after I got so trashed at an event back in 2005 that he almost ended the relationship because I was that out of control.
On Monday July 7th, I did laundry but mostly slacked off all day, recovering from the horrible horrible hangover. I sent out a plea to my friends to help keep me in check where bars are concerned. Only one friend said she’d step up to this really responsible role for me. I’m very grateful for her. The problem is, she’s rarely at the clubs or bars that I normally go to. But I know I can count on her if she is out with me and my man is not there to provide the parental role.
I worked Tuesday through Thursday this week and was wiped out by the end of Wednesday, heh. I only put in 24-27 hours of work per week now, but it’s labor-intensive and wipes me out. Eventually I’ll get in shape from this work and it won’t leave me so exhausted.
Last night, the band my man is in had their last concert. Their lead singer/owner of the band killed his band name and associated music, and now they’re all working on new material. I’m glad they’ve stayed together but it’s not been without moderate stress on everyone. It’s bold and scary to start off on a whole new project after ten years and an established fan base. There were four bands on the bill last night. I tried ringing up a couple of people to go with me to the bar, so I wouldn’t be on my own and self-destructive again. I did not try hard enough. I should have been on top of this, ensuring a ride with someone days ago. I failed again.
I went to the club alone. I met several people there I know, sure, but for some reason, I was nervous and full of social anxiety all over again. WHY. I don’t know. I don’t know.
I started drinking.
The bartenders there are very generous with their pours.
And yet I had two or three drinks. I got hammered. Again. After having a talk with myself all day about only getting cranberry juice. I rehearsed it in my head – get a drink to make it look like you’re drinking alcohol, so you can join in the party so to speak. But all the while I was rehearsing this, in the back of my head another voice was already at the bar and explaining to someone that she had her cranberry juice and now she’s getting a tall glass of vodka – to go with the cranberry she’d already drank.
That voice – that is my arch nemesis. The one who is literally trying to kill me. The one who seems unstoppable. The one I feel powerless against.
gods help me. At the end of the night, there was no one to drive me home. I drove home drunk. So drunk I had to squint with one eye closed to properly see the road. I have no idea where I parked my car last night.
I do recall taking vitamin B and C before bed, so that’s good because I didn’t wake up with the type of hangover I had only four days ago. Although I am not nauseous, nor do I have a pounding hangover headache, my stomach feels pitted and my kidneys are screaming. Add to that the fact that after heavy drinking, my ovaries and uterus get cranky because the hormones are all whacked out of place from the alcohol poisoning. So now I dread my next period – I’m positive it will be a really bad one thanks to my self-destructive behaviour.
I feel like the next binge really will kill me.
And yet, I know there will be another binge. I’m afraid. So very afraid. I don’t know how to stop myself. I’ve been saying this for years and years and I’ve put myself raw and exposed to people to help me but none of it has worked.
… looking up treatment options on my insurance…
Prior auth required. Hm. Time to make an appointment with my doctor.