Get off my cloud

As much as I don't update this blog anywhere near as much as I'd like I feel the time is right for a get it all out post which may or may not be the catalyst for more regular future postings. One thing is for sure though, I need to keep writing and I need to get this shit off my chest, regardless of the fact nobody will read it.

 

So I am finally over the other side of a weekend I wish had never happened. Why do I wish it never happened? Because I was a complete fucking dick. And why was I a complete fucking dick? Partly because I was pissed out of my tree but also, largely due to the fact that I am a head mental and have serious abandonment issues.

 

So what have I done that's so bad? Well unfortunately I don't have a very good memory of my actions so have had to piece things together from selected accounts from the various people who are ever so angry with me. From what I can gather though, I was too pissed to get into some club on the Friday night and instead of accepting this gracefully I instead got upset that my friends all went in regardless. Now whilst I don't remember exactly what happened I can easily imagine myself getting worked up by such a situation as I have a history of kicking off when I feel left out, sometimes justifiably so I feel, but this one is hard to judge because considering I don't even remember it there is a fair chance that I was too much of a mess to get in anywhere and so it was perhaps unfair of me to expect all my mates to change their plans in order to try and accommodate me. However, considering I had put everyone up at my place (seriously pissing my flatmate off in the process) in the hours prior to going out I have to sympathise with my drunken irrational mind here, and my frustration would have been made yet worse by the fact that I was already in a right old grump about having been purposefully shunned by another group of so-called mates who were enjoying a party to which I was not invited that very night.

 

Oh this is all so lame I know but come on, indulge me, I need to get this out.

 

So, instead of trudging off home a little worse for wear I apparently went MENTAL, spitting out pathetic attention seeking text messages left, right and centre AND (shudder) changing my voicemail greeting to something that suggested I had killed myself. You see, this is where it gets seriously UNCOOL. Presumably I then turned my phone off and what became of me after that I've no idea. There seem to be suggestions that I climbed all over the pier (idiot) although how I got up there and what happened to me there I really couldn't say.

 

So it's all pretty text book "look at me" attention seeking behaviour for which I am not in any way proud of myself BUT, concerningly, it would seem I didn't simply turn up back home in the morning, tail between my legs OH NO.

 

I actually came to on Sunday afternoon, a good THIRTY hours after my last meaningful memory, and it all seemed eerily calm - I was in bed, at home, as if I had simply overslept rather dramatically having hit it a bit hard on the Friday night. But then I turned my phone on... And the fires of Hades were unleashed on my already achey brain. There were SO many messages I lost count and most of them were calling me a selfish cunt, or other variations on that theme. Of course there were the "we are all very worried about you" messages too, but mostly people were ANGRY with me. And then there were messages from the Police, as someone had thought to report me as a missing person, which I didn't think you could do unless you'd been missing for several days at least BUT apparently I am wrong.

 

Anyway, as if this wasn't bad enough, my flatmate obviously hears me roused from my countless hours of slumber and pops in to tell me I've been a selfish cunt. He says the police came round several times, along with ambulance crews (why??) and several of my mates from the night out. He then tells me that once I returned on the Saturday the filth came round again to do some sort of "well-being" follow-up call except I was completely zombified and couldn't be woken. I'm really scared by this because there really isn't even the tiniest shred of memory here and you'd think when the pigs get involved that'd sober you up a little but apparently I was oblivious to this, and I've no reason to doubt it did happen, given the rest of my antics up until this point. Turns out there were several empty packets of sleeping pills on the floor which might help explain this state. AND it turns out he's had to ring round other people to see if anyone knew where I was so this little episode is now common knowledge among all sorts of people I'd rather didn't know about it.

 

Flatmate also points out that he's stripped the lounge of anything belonging to him (big telly, stereo) as he "can be selfish too". Now I can't work out whether this is meant to be some sort of punishment for me or whether he just doesn't trust me around his stuff or even whether he simply doesn't want to have to spend time with me so will retreat to his room permanently safe in the knowledge that he has everything he needs in there. At any rate, he is clearly NOT impressed.

 

And nor am I. How I let myself get into this sort of state I really don't know. For years now I've been warned by doctors, therapists, friends and family that I NEED to control my drinking habits but for some reason I choose to ignore these warnings and end up losing DAYS of my life in which I could have lost my entire life. Now from what I have been told and can gather I'm fairly sure this was a pretty desperate attempt to get some sympathy and attention but at the same time I don't actually remember what I was doing so who knows how serious my battered mind was at the time? I could have killed myself almost subconsciously. If I'm not in control then who or what is? I know you can argue that the alcohol is in control but it's not ACTUALLY is it? I mean I still have the use of my limbs and whatever else, surely at the time I'm not just unconscious and my body is being controlled by some outside force, right?

 

I guess I just don't have a very right frame of mind.

 

Sadly this is not something I can brush under the carpet however. And as the latest in a number of alcohol related attacks of stupidity I'm acutely aware of the fact that I genuinely have to stop drinking, at least until maybe I am better again, if I even can be cured.

 

But what's really killer about it all is that I know I've lost good friends to this behaviour, and I don't even blame them. Selfish, attention seeking, pity parades such as this hardly endear me to other people and why bother getting close to someone who threatens to throw it all away and hurt you? There are many people I'd be devastated at losing and yet I can't imagine other people feeling that way about me. I never have done. I am constantly battling with my feelings of self-loathing, beefed up every time I get left out or miss out on some event I feel I should have been invited to. As if every time I'm not being cared for and adored this is some personal slight against me for being some kind of blemish in whatever social circle I'm paranoid about being excluded from.

 

Furthermore, I've managed to involve two distinctly seperate friendship groups which I have been desperately trying to keep apart as deep down I think I've known for a while I'd inevitably fuck it up with one lot and thus would end up relying on the other for support. It would seem however that I've royally fucked it up with BOTH groups. The only friends I've not involved and therefore alienated are all the far away, out of touch or settled down types that sadly won't make things better.

 

I feel like I'm going to have to start from scratch all over again, which is daunting to say the least, and may sound overly dramatic BUT I have really messed up with some people, whilst other relationships were hanging by a thread anyway. This leaves me really alone again. I always seem to be desperate for that one true best mate type friend, and often I go looking for that person in somebody far too soon, or even when it isn't totally appropriate. True deep friendships are forged over years and years of hard work, but I don't have TIME for this. I need somebody to listen to my troubles, tell me things will be alright and share secrets with me in a girly fashion that boys wouldn't usually admit to but all secretly love, and I need this somebody NOW. These days my therapist knows more about me than anyone else in my life and I guess that's not that unusual in that opening up to strangers can seem a lot less risky than trusting someone close but I still feel I'm missing that best mate material that I've been crying out for since the succession of losses I suffered in primary and middle school (losses to other countries mainly, not THAT dramatic).

 

I've always wanted to be adored. Apparently sloppy, drunken suicide attempts aren't the way to go about it.

 

I am feeling: ASHAMED

 

:(