So on Sunday night into early Monday morning, I was a bit... out of it. And in this "state," I made some phone calls, and I wanted to call a girl I knew, but I didn't want to wake her up, because it was like, four in the morning. So instead, I texted her.
The next day, I forgot all about the text, and this girl kept looking over at me while she sang at the front of the room as part of our music part of our Catholic club. I was kind of confused/suspicious, but she's a pretty girl, and she's really cool, so I was fine with the attention.
Then, Tuesday afternoon, I discovered the text message I had forgotten about. It really wasn't a bad text message at all, I just told her that she was awesome, and I respect her as a person and that she should keep living the way that she is. And I used perfect spelling and grammar. Relatively speaking, I'm a really nice guy when I'm in this state. So I figured that was why she had been acting the way she had.
I had a board meeting with her for our pro-life club on Wednesday, and it was still kind of awkward, so late Thursday night/early Friday morning I wrote her a facebook message, apologizing for potentially waking her up and for the awkwardness of texting her while in that "state." My guilty conscience just kept bugging me too much.
Friday afternoon, I got a reply from her. Apparently, her phone doesn't get text messages, but she said if I really needed to talk that I could call her at any time. Oh, and she wanted to know what the message said. I figured it would be better to tell her the truth than to have her imagine some kind of idiotic or perverted message, and since then, I haven't gotten a reply back.
Tsk, tsk, if my conscience just left well enough alone, I would have been out of this mess scot-free.
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Sunday, September 9, 2007
I'm sorry for my problems
Tonight I screwed up a bit. My friend Dan thinks it was because of alcohol, which is good, because he thinks it's an outside problem instead of just me. I was supposed to bring "The Truman Show" to his dorm and watch it there with him and some other people. I showed up finally about two hours late, and Dan just advised me that he would "let this go, but you should probably just go home now John." Dan had called my cell phone much earlier, when I was only a little late, and while I took a quick poll about what to do, one of my other friends took my phone and told Dan that he had stolen my phone.
Myself, I don't know whose fault it was. It definitely wasn't the alcohol. I was thinking about not going to Dan's dorm before I started drinking at all. I just didn't want to see him. It's a long story, and I can't decide if it's my fault, his fault, or someone else's fault entirely.
Like I said a few posts back, I have a problem. Usually it's nothing. This week has been crappy, and something Dan had said a week or two back had sort of set off flags in my mind. It wasn't until today though that what he had said really had an effect on me. I read something in a book every student had been given at our high school graduation. I just didn't want to deal with what was bubbling up inside me, so I fell asleep at my bed so I wouldn't have to deal with anything. That always seems like the best option to me. Do nothing, hide away from your problems. They'll go away in a little while if you get some rest.
I know I should apologize to him, but right now I'm just trying to figure out who to blame. He doesn't know what's wrong with me, so I can't really blame him for something he didn't realize he was doing. I think I should blame myself, but my mind is telling me that's not right either. Maybe I should be getting more help with this problem. Usually it's no trouble at all. I went through the entire summer without a single hitch, I just think the stress of a new semester of school and a lack of sleep is getting to me.
Right now, Dan is IMing me, implying how he feels hurt, and I just don't know what to say. He said he felt hurt, and I said I was sorry. I told him I didn't know how to explain, but that I did feel like an ass. Then he had to head to sleep.
If there's one thing that I definitely know is my fault, it's this: I'm sorry that I don't know how to deal with this better. For all of my smarts, I'm still in the dark. I'm sorry that I can't figure out how to deal with this.
Myself, I don't know whose fault it was. It definitely wasn't the alcohol. I was thinking about not going to Dan's dorm before I started drinking at all. I just didn't want to see him. It's a long story, and I can't decide if it's my fault, his fault, or someone else's fault entirely.
Like I said a few posts back, I have a problem. Usually it's nothing. This week has been crappy, and something Dan had said a week or two back had sort of set off flags in my mind. It wasn't until today though that what he had said really had an effect on me. I read something in a book every student had been given at our high school graduation. I just didn't want to deal with what was bubbling up inside me, so I fell asleep at my bed so I wouldn't have to deal with anything. That always seems like the best option to me. Do nothing, hide away from your problems. They'll go away in a little while if you get some rest.
I know I should apologize to him, but right now I'm just trying to figure out who to blame. He doesn't know what's wrong with me, so I can't really blame him for something he didn't realize he was doing. I think I should blame myself, but my mind is telling me that's not right either. Maybe I should be getting more help with this problem. Usually it's no trouble at all. I went through the entire summer without a single hitch, I just think the stress of a new semester of school and a lack of sleep is getting to me.
Right now, Dan is IMing me, implying how he feels hurt, and I just don't know what to say. He said he felt hurt, and I said I was sorry. I told him I didn't know how to explain, but that I did feel like an ass. Then he had to head to sleep.
If there's one thing that I definitely know is my fault, it's this: I'm sorry that I don't know how to deal with this better. For all of my smarts, I'm still in the dark. I'm sorry that I can't figure out how to deal with this.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Under the influence
Right now, I'm still sort of getting rid of a bit of tipsiness. My fingers feel a bit weird as I'm typing this out, like the letters on the screen are appearing faster than they should.
As a person of strong resistance to alcohol, I rather had to hit myself hard to get into this state. By hitting myself hard, I mean I took six shots of vodka in a row, in less than a minute, and a shot of Southern Comfort later. It left my stomach feeling a bit weird, but once it calmed down, I was good.
It's funny the things that you'll do when you're not as much in control of yourself. We were planning on going to a toga party, but we went to a dance party some members of a Catholic club on campus were hosting. The other members of my group got bored and left, but I stayed. Dancing is fun. Who needs to get drunk and try to pick up girls? Techno music and dancing with no inhibitions is where the real fun is at. I'm glad I didn't leave.
At some point, I went into their kitchen to get a drink, and I decided to make a message out of the magnets they had on their fridge. You know the magnets I'm talking about, those little white ones with words and suffixes on them? Over what seemed like a very long time of searching and deliberating, probably made long by my slightly handicapped state, I finally made my message. I sent it in a text message to myself, so I wouldn't forget it. It said:
Together we give honest friendship. Share the heart. Smile, believe, trust your companions.
Really, in a perfect world, it would be difficult to find truer words.
As a person of strong resistance to alcohol, I rather had to hit myself hard to get into this state. By hitting myself hard, I mean I took six shots of vodka in a row, in less than a minute, and a shot of Southern Comfort later. It left my stomach feeling a bit weird, but once it calmed down, I was good.
It's funny the things that you'll do when you're not as much in control of yourself. We were planning on going to a toga party, but we went to a dance party some members of a Catholic club on campus were hosting. The other members of my group got bored and left, but I stayed. Dancing is fun. Who needs to get drunk and try to pick up girls? Techno music and dancing with no inhibitions is where the real fun is at. I'm glad I didn't leave.
At some point, I went into their kitchen to get a drink, and I decided to make a message out of the magnets they had on their fridge. You know the magnets I'm talking about, those little white ones with words and suffixes on them? Over what seemed like a very long time of searching and deliberating, probably made long by my slightly handicapped state, I finally made my message. I sent it in a text message to myself, so I wouldn't forget it. It said:
Together we give honest friendship. Share the heart. Smile, believe, trust your companions.
Really, in a perfect world, it would be difficult to find truer words.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Thank You God
I have a problem that luckily enough, I haven't had to deal with for the past two months or so, but going to mass tonight, it got really bad. I was trying to fight off tears during mass, and I was trying to make sure I didn't look like anything was wrong with me. During my quiet time after receiving communion, I was praying to God to help me with what was going on.
Walking home from mass, I was just trying to keep from having a panic attack. I breathed through the fabric of my shirt once or twice to slow down some hyperventilation. My plan pretty much was just to go to sleep and try to cry into my corner without my roommate hearing or noticing me, if he was even there.
I got back to my room, and there were like, nine people in it, 6 of them girls. My roommate was pregaming, and I got convinced to go along with them. We went to a frat, and while I'm not really a frat kind of guy, I had a pretty good time just hanging out, getting less awkward with my roommate, and being a good wingman to all of the people in our group, guys and girls alike.
Right now, maybe it's just from a little bit of alcohol still floating around in my system, but I feel so much better. I don't know if it was just letting off steam or something else, but somehow, it's like my prayers were answered. Through drinking and partying.
Weird.
Walking home from mass, I was just trying to keep from having a panic attack. I breathed through the fabric of my shirt once or twice to slow down some hyperventilation. My plan pretty much was just to go to sleep and try to cry into my corner without my roommate hearing or noticing me, if he was even there.
I got back to my room, and there were like, nine people in it, 6 of them girls. My roommate was pregaming, and I got convinced to go along with them. We went to a frat, and while I'm not really a frat kind of guy, I had a pretty good time just hanging out, getting less awkward with my roommate, and being a good wingman to all of the people in our group, guys and girls alike.
Right now, maybe it's just from a little bit of alcohol still floating around in my system, but I feel so much better. I don't know if it was just letting off steam or something else, but somehow, it's like my prayers were answered. Through drinking and partying.
Weird.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
I'm sorry, but I just can't deal with you right now
Tonight I got a chance to hang out with some of my good friends for the first time since last year at school. We are a group of guys that was affectionately dubbed "The Freshman Guys" by the Catholic group we were in. I had some ridiculously fun times with these guys last year. Sometimes things would get a bit out of hand, and usually I would be the one to try to sort things out, because I have the highest tolerance to alcohol out of our group, I'd say I'm probably the most patient, and I like to think I'm good at defusing situations (Seriously though, how many people have actually used the line "Bros before Hos" to stop an argument?). I'm happy to help out, because I like to see my friends have a good time, and I just like helping people too and helping make peace between people.
Tonight though, has pushed me past my limits. Me, Alex, Brian, Dan, and two other guys all were drinking a bit in Alex and his roommate's dorm. Alex, somehow being the biggest lightweight ever, was already pretty tipsy off of probably a small amount of alcohol (I had gotten there late). Me, I had a straight shot of 190 proof alcohol, several shots of whiskey, and I quite literally felt nothing.
Eventually, one frat and a house party later, I figured Alex had had enough to drink, and needed to go home and sober up. This was at around the time he took off his shirt and pants during a one-man dance to "Greased Lightning." Don't worry, he still had his boxers on, but still.
Long story short, Alex didn't want to leave. He just wanted to go party more. He fought with me, Brian, and Dan the entire. An hour and a half I fought with him to try to get him home and keep him from getting an underage citation. Dan wanted to leave him. Brian wanted to leave him. I said no. He was my friend, and I was going to get him home safe.
He bled on me, he almost got me beat up by frat boys, he had me carry him quite a few times, and just in general he was a absolute asshole at letting me help him. If there was a way for him to slow things down, he did it, excluding actually getting into a fight with me.
I eventually got him home with Dan and Brian's help, but he just wouldn't go to sleep. I was so tired. I had done most of the carrying of Alex this entire time, as Brian was still kind of tipsy, and Dan's idea of getting Alex to come along was telling ridiculous lies and hoping he'd believe it. We sat in his dorm room for a while, hoping he'd sleep, but he just didn't want to. Eventually, he needed to go to the bathroom, but he wouldn't let anyone come with him. I knew this was code for "I'm going to run off to the commons or something because I still want to have fun," but I had endured enough. I let him go. I had gotten him back on campus, I had gotten him back to his room, and if he wanted to screw it up from there, I would let him. I left just a few moments after Alex left his room, and already there was no sight of him down the hallway. I made my way outside, and just stopped in the stairwell to pray for him.
I had done this sort of thing, praying for Alex when he drinks too much and runs off. The last time I was worried he would get hypothermia and die outside somewhere, but luckily, my prayers somehow were answered and I found him after searching for close to an hour. He had been in a lounge drunk dialing people.
I started walking, but still praying, and I started getting sort of vindictive. Maybe he needed to get caught. I prayed to God to let the right thing happen, whether it be keeping Alex free from the campus police, or whether it was him getting a citation so he'd learn a lesson.
Walking back though, I realized something. Taking care of Alex the way I had was not something I wanted to do. Sure, if he happens to drink too much and starts puking, hell, I'd be right there with a roll of paper towels and a bottle of water. The entire time I was helping him, he just disregarded everything I did for him. He forced me into situations where I had to use force against him to try to help him because I was pissed off and I couldn't think of any other way. Thinking about that started drawing me into a panic attack, because I hate getting mad at people. I hate getting mad, because usually when I'm really pissed off, I end up hurting someone I love. I so rarely get mad, but I just wanted to beat the living hell out of Alex tonight.
He's my friend! I'm supposed to love him! I just felt like a bad person because I wanted to hurt my friend and I couldn't think of anyone to call or talk to because it was already two in the morning, and most of my friends were probably already asleep, and I didn't want to wake them up just to listen to me rant and end up crying on the phone to them. So instead, I walked the eight minutes or so back to my dorm room, completely alone, scouring my mind for who to turn to while trying to hold back tears in front of the people I walked past.
I need to talk to him about this, but I worry it will just degrade into me telling him how much I think he was a shitty friend and that what he did shows he doesn't care about me and that he has an alcohol problem or something, and I'd end up yelling all of this in front of a bunch of people who don't really know how we drink and whatnot, and it'd just be shameful for him, and I don't want to do that to him. I can't just let this go and keep on looking after him when he can't manage to control himself, and basically, that is how he got so out of control. He never put any sort of limit on what he drank, he just kept on going.
He called while I was writing this, and told me he was heading back to his dorm after going to probably one of the furthest places on campus from his dorm. I told him it was all okay, and he thanked me for helping him out and dealing with him, but he doesn't realize or even really remember everything I had to go through helping him out.
I guess the real question is, how do I go about figuring out this situation? How do I forgive all of that? He said we'd hang out tomorrow night, and he definitely wouldn't drink as much, but I don't really believe him. Even drinking half as much would put him in the same state. I don't want to be in that situation again but I don't want Alex to get in trouble and I just don't know what to do. He hurt me deeply tonight (this is my third draft for this entry, and most of this one has just been filled with me crying as I typed). I just don't know what to do here.
Tonight though, has pushed me past my limits. Me, Alex, Brian, Dan, and two other guys all were drinking a bit in Alex and his roommate's dorm. Alex, somehow being the biggest lightweight ever, was already pretty tipsy off of probably a small amount of alcohol (I had gotten there late). Me, I had a straight shot of 190 proof alcohol, several shots of whiskey, and I quite literally felt nothing.
Eventually, one frat and a house party later, I figured Alex had had enough to drink, and needed to go home and sober up. This was at around the time he took off his shirt and pants during a one-man dance to "Greased Lightning." Don't worry, he still had his boxers on, but still.
Long story short, Alex didn't want to leave. He just wanted to go party more. He fought with me, Brian, and Dan the entire. An hour and a half I fought with him to try to get him home and keep him from getting an underage citation. Dan wanted to leave him. Brian wanted to leave him. I said no. He was my friend, and I was going to get him home safe.
He bled on me, he almost got me beat up by frat boys, he had me carry him quite a few times, and just in general he was a absolute asshole at letting me help him. If there was a way for him to slow things down, he did it, excluding actually getting into a fight with me.
I eventually got him home with Dan and Brian's help, but he just wouldn't go to sleep. I was so tired. I had done most of the carrying of Alex this entire time, as Brian was still kind of tipsy, and Dan's idea of getting Alex to come along was telling ridiculous lies and hoping he'd believe it. We sat in his dorm room for a while, hoping he'd sleep, but he just didn't want to. Eventually, he needed to go to the bathroom, but he wouldn't let anyone come with him. I knew this was code for "I'm going to run off to the commons or something because I still want to have fun," but I had endured enough. I let him go. I had gotten him back on campus, I had gotten him back to his room, and if he wanted to screw it up from there, I would let him. I left just a few moments after Alex left his room, and already there was no sight of him down the hallway. I made my way outside, and just stopped in the stairwell to pray for him.
I had done this sort of thing, praying for Alex when he drinks too much and runs off. The last time I was worried he would get hypothermia and die outside somewhere, but luckily, my prayers somehow were answered and I found him after searching for close to an hour. He had been in a lounge drunk dialing people.
I started walking, but still praying, and I started getting sort of vindictive. Maybe he needed to get caught. I prayed to God to let the right thing happen, whether it be keeping Alex free from the campus police, or whether it was him getting a citation so he'd learn a lesson.
Walking back though, I realized something. Taking care of Alex the way I had was not something I wanted to do. Sure, if he happens to drink too much and starts puking, hell, I'd be right there with a roll of paper towels and a bottle of water. The entire time I was helping him, he just disregarded everything I did for him. He forced me into situations where I had to use force against him to try to help him because I was pissed off and I couldn't think of any other way. Thinking about that started drawing me into a panic attack, because I hate getting mad at people. I hate getting mad, because usually when I'm really pissed off, I end up hurting someone I love. I so rarely get mad, but I just wanted to beat the living hell out of Alex tonight.
He's my friend! I'm supposed to love him! I just felt like a bad person because I wanted to hurt my friend and I couldn't think of anyone to call or talk to because it was already two in the morning, and most of my friends were probably already asleep, and I didn't want to wake them up just to listen to me rant and end up crying on the phone to them. So instead, I walked the eight minutes or so back to my dorm room, completely alone, scouring my mind for who to turn to while trying to hold back tears in front of the people I walked past.
I need to talk to him about this, but I worry it will just degrade into me telling him how much I think he was a shitty friend and that what he did shows he doesn't care about me and that he has an alcohol problem or something, and I'd end up yelling all of this in front of a bunch of people who don't really know how we drink and whatnot, and it'd just be shameful for him, and I don't want to do that to him. I can't just let this go and keep on looking after him when he can't manage to control himself, and basically, that is how he got so out of control. He never put any sort of limit on what he drank, he just kept on going.
He called while I was writing this, and told me he was heading back to his dorm after going to probably one of the furthest places on campus from his dorm. I told him it was all okay, and he thanked me for helping him out and dealing with him, but he doesn't realize or even really remember everything I had to go through helping him out.
I guess the real question is, how do I go about figuring out this situation? How do I forgive all of that? He said we'd hang out tomorrow night, and he definitely wouldn't drink as much, but I don't really believe him. Even drinking half as much would put him in the same state. I don't want to be in that situation again but I don't want Alex to get in trouble and I just don't know what to do. He hurt me deeply tonight (this is my third draft for this entry, and most of this one has just been filled with me crying as I typed). I just don't know what to do here.
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