The Million Word Journey

112k (pt.2): A fun email I wrote to myself last night

"In case I forget this, I just had one of the worst experiences of my life. Like 10 massive panic attacks rolled into one, I had 12 shots and this internal fear that I was nothing but entertainment, that I was like a pet to other people came out. I liedthere murmuring about being Alone, about no one caring about me, hyperventilating, gasping, crying out in pain, and all anyone had to do was put their arm around me and say "no, you're okay" but they didn't. And I was left feeling like I had no mouth and screaming, screaming."

Don't be 110 pounds and get into drinking competitions. I am correct, I am not a fun drunk. But I never realized I'm a clingy/panicky drunk, nor did I know I had can't-shut-the-fuck-up-itis. 

I have two guinea pigs, Maiden and Metallica, whom I love. And while vomiting last night I got the idea 1) I was dying 2) everyone else saw me as their sort of pet, the way I see my guinea pigs. Loving me and not exactly understanding me, loving me...but. The moment I get expensive, inconvenient, letting me suffer and die. (Which is not how I feel about my guinea pigs, but is kind of how a lot of people view their pets). 

So I kept saying how alone I felt, until my mouth fucking stopped working and my arms were all painful tingles. And then I just sort of made sounds, growls of pain through a mouth that refused to open. I have no mouth but I must scream, was a feeling I never thought I'd experience, but holy fuck it's just as awful as it sounds, and do you know how awful it sounds?

And like, that's not normal? But it did, you know, confirmedly happen. One of the guys just sort of winked in the morning and made fun of me about the "moaning." To which I responded, "I was trying to scream, dumb fuck!" 

So uh 1) no more drinking, at least not that much. 

2) If you ever have a drunk friend losing their absolute shit, just, I don't know, pat them? I've taken care of drunk people a decent amount, and after that experience, I can confirm a "you're okay" really helps. The paranoid feeling of no one really loving or caring if you live or die compounds when said people don't reach out to try to comfort you. 

I slipped on my laptop and cracked it pretty bad, also. So sorry if updates come slower. Honestly? I'm kind of ashamed. All of my darkest fears and deepest feelings flew out of me, unbidden, when people were trying to have fun. It's gonna be kind of hard for me to a) look said people in the eye after they heard all that and b) not be the tiniest bit angry they let me go through personal hell without so much of a "you're okay, buddy" despite just how much I verbalized my suffering.

This really is a journal, ah well. I have the authorial voice of a Wattpad character, so hopefully it sounds like an interesting read. So I guess that's my piece on drunkenness: eat, chug water, know your limit, know your limit, Sweet Jesus know your limit