I’m still feeling nostalgic today. I have no one to talk to. My father could be sitting next to me and wouldn’t notice. This morning I actually broke down step by step how I would buy a gun, surround the room with plastic so there wouldn’t be a mess put the gun to my temple and…… ABSOLUTELY NO RESPONSE!!
I didn’t mean what I was saying. I was sad and frustrated, I wanted someone to hear me. He didn’t. I don’t know why I thought he would. I really just want to sleep but I’ll write a bit before I do.
There was usually a certain type of guy that would approach me whenever J would have parties. This was often and always crazy. I usually had a safe spot to sleep so I was protected when everyone went to bed. When I would wake up and see the apartment the destruction was immense. I’m talking they used the carpet as an ashtray, the kitchen sink to piss in, the smell of beer would be everywhere. There was also a motley crew of passed out bodies all over the place. I have to admit I could be mean at times. If I didn’t like the girl she was getting the boost whether she was dressed or not. There was one stripper that always came over and ALWAYS lost control of her bladder while sleeping. I don’t care what she looked like nothing is worth waking up in someone else’s waste. I was sick of seeing it and cleaning it. She also had a child. I knew what I was, who I was, for the most part. I knew I was a drunk and slept with too many people when I drank. But I also knew that if I had child I wouldn’t be out drinking every night.
There were times when I was at J’s apartment when a young girl would come over with her child. He would expect me to watch the kid. I put my foot down one day. I told him there would be no children there at all or he could find someone else to take care of his shit.
Of course I’ve gotten off track about who I attract. Let’s see there was a guy who asked me to close my eyes and hold out my hand. I was drunk so I did. He proceeded to put his fake eye in it. (I dropped it and screamed) One time J and I decided to go to a bar we had never been to. Who decides to buy me a drink? The tall guy with jet black hair halfway down his back, with a black ankle length trench coat, and before I forget a prosthetic arm. But he didn’t go with the usual hand instead he chose a meat hook. Yes! May I please date you? We had a bar called Jerky’s in the city. It’s named appropriately. The security guys were usually good to me. One night W and I went without anyone else. Bad idea. I kept feeling something pull on my leg. I kept drinking and ignored it. It wasn’t until I went to walk and felt a weight come with me that I looked down. It was a man on a skateboard. He only had half of a body. I was concerned because there were so many people and he was so drunk. He became rude and a little handsy when I tried to ask him questions. I wanted to know if he had friends with him. Finally the bouncer I knew came over and took him away. He said he was there often and caused a lot of trouble. I still felt bad.
Another guy wore nothing but muscle tank tops and spandex shorts. This was all year round. He would also get up on stage and sing Queensryche at the top of his lungs sometimes when there wasn’t a stage or Karaoke. J said it was because I made eye contact. I stopped making eye contact. There were oddly enough very attractive men also. They all came with their own impairments.
There is one I regret not talking to more. I knew he felt alone in the world. I knew he felt unloved, voiceless. He sold heroin but didn’t use it. (I know that doesn’t make it better it’s a reference point) I found out a few months after seeing him that he had started using. I found out 6 months from then he had hung himself. I was so numb myself at that point in my life that it didn’t really hit me. You know when it hit me? A few years ago when W and I were talking one night and she asked if I remembered him.
It was then I cried. I didn’t stop crying for a long time.
The places that my alcoholism took me were mostly sad places. I can try and tell my funny stories of being in a port a pottie in a rain storm and having it slide down a hill and tip over. But in the end it was always painful. It was always sad. I always felt pathetic. That feeling has never gone away.