Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Manic Panic

Turns out that my recent burst of energy and enthusiasm was not so much a case of me being better, as me being totally manic. Bounced out of bed yesterday morning, porridge and coffee and into the city by 10:30, then...

Panic attack for the rest of the day. Met the Schwee for his birthday, sat in cafe totally wired and unable to make proper conversation and being quite irrational. Went to Domestic Love art exhibition, made small talk with lots of lovely ladies and tried to interact like nothing was wrong even though I could barely hold a thought for more than 30seconds. Came back to Newtown, met Beculum for a beer. She told me she had seen TCM out and about after his top surgery and he is looking wonderful, just as I knew he would be. And I realised just how much I am still grieving for what I imagined I could have had with him. (Sure, I can now see him out with his girlfriend and not flinch but at the end of the day I'm still really sad that it didn't work out. I really did think of him as my last chance for the whole Hallmark card deal, believed him to be the one, the cute and cheeky boy from the same part of town as me who would hold my hand while I got my bits pierced and take me to the footy for a long time to come *sigh*). B had also been out with ACB, who apparently has been asking after me (*sigh again*). Then ran into GC as The Slox a bit later, when I was well pissy and then of course all I could think of was wanting to be with her and then, well... anyone who knows me will be able to guess what came next. Panic plus object of heartbreak plus beer plus Zoo usually ends badly, and this was no exception.

Woke up this morning hyperventilating and wanting to cut myself. Couldn't get back to sleep, couldn't get my breath, couldn't even call out to my housemates to get a hug.

Don't know what to do about it all. My drinking has become extremely problematic, and is scaring me in that often there are very large chunks of the evening I don't remember at all. Not as in a little pissy-can't-remember-someone's-name-vagueness but as in no recollection, period. And I do some pretty bad things when I am pissed, hurt a lot of people, look like an idiot. Want to get away from it all, leave the PhD and the boys and the butches and... Wish someone would just take me somewhere, mildly sedate me, feed me and look after me and just let me chill for a while away from study and affairs of the heart, away from groceries and bills and performances and socialising. I'm bloody exhausted, and I want to rest.

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