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Monday, February 12, 2007


   Neurosis, so many neurosis.
It's odd, I never thought of myself being a neurotic person til about a month or two ago when I started noticing... the neurotic behaviours.

It's kinda like catching a reflection of the back of your head and you notice that the crown doesn't actually sit nicely like you thought, rather it's got a strange angle where hair seems to come out of it in spastic chunks.

So maybe if I shared some of my recent neurosis, maybe it'll help or something.

I recall for about 3 nights I was unable to sleep, terrified of a little girl I had dreamt about. I have never seen her before, in fact I have attempted to draw her. She could've been a very cute little girl if she didn't have the blank look in her eyes. She had perfect curly blonde hair with ribbons in it, a round-ish face plump from baby fat, crystal blue eyes and freckles speckling her pale cheeks. She wore a floral dress that had frilly lacy edges. She also caused my chest to hurt so much in my dream I couldn't breathe, I thought this sucks, I don't want to die in my sleep like this.

I eventually woke up as you do but scared shitless and hence didn't sleep for several days. I haven't a clue why either.

~~~~

This happened on Saturday night. Not so much a neurosis but probably symptomatic of something worse. Either way I had one of the biggest scares of my life and have been rather traumatized. I'll give you the full story since there were some funny bits.

Ryan, the officially designated bf had decided I would be for the first time ever be sober driver (he doesn't trust me to drive his car for some reason) which clearly meant he intended on drinking more than usual. So we get into town and meet up with a bunch of his workmates and they make him drink a few glasses of wine, however at that point we were still trying to decide which of us was driving because I actually wanted to drink. Eventually the party settles down in a bar, rather aptly named The Carpark and one of the first things to happen is that he decides to agree with the actual alcoholic of the group (this guy admits he doesn't believe he can get to sleep without a couple of long island ice teas in his system) to match him drink for drink.

No doubt you can see where this is going.

Hence, I had to stop partway through my gin and juice so I would sober up properly to drive (I am a very cheap drunk). I was felt a little bitter about having to do that but whatever, I'll get over it. Some of my friends in town finally figured out where I was and came to see me (jubilations). By then I'd say Ryan easily had 8-9 drinks in his system (they were buying the strongest drinks possible) this was starting from 9pm dinner to sculling around midnight.

I was far too sober to be talking to a woman who spoke so fast she wasn't making words, rather a series of expressions punctuated by a noun and/or verb every 20 words in the space of 10 seconds. Hence you do what you gotta do and I gave Ryan a playful pinch and he turns to look at me:

Me: I thought you'd forgotten about me? *pouts*
Him: *leans forward a little too quickly too much and slurs* How could I forgetchu?? YOU'ree the mosht bootiful wOman inn thish bar!.
Me: I am too sober and he is really drunk

That was probably the first clue I got that he should've been slowing up on the drinks. But like I said, I was a little bitter about being sober so I left him to it trusting he could handle himself and went back to talking to one of my more sober friends.

Next clue I got that he definitley had a few too many.

Me: *nearly jumping out of my seat from somebody I hadn't seen coming wrap their arms around me*
Him: *not slurring surprisingly but maybe a little hurried* I REALLY love you. I love you sooo much it's not funny!
Me:.................. *laughs nervously, gives him a kiss* ............ that's nice dear.
Him: *obvlivious to my answer is off like a shot after trying to kiss me some more in some attempt to reinforce the meaning of what he said.
Me: Where the hell did that come from?! Did he say what I think he did? And if he did... he is going to feel really stupid about this later. Assuming he remembers.

Look, before anyone thinks otherwise, this isn't typical behaviour for him. He is a good man whom is chivalrous, responsible, considerate and well-intentioned but sometimes he's a little special, special in the sense he'll do something outrageously stupid for all the wrong reasons because he sometimes forgets what he does has consequences.

It wasn't long after that about 1:00am he disappears to the bathroom not emerging for disconcerting 20 mins. After some people are sent in after him it's confirmed he was violently vacating his stomach contents into the toilet.

It was 2:30am before I had to find a bouncer to get him out of there (the entire party had ditched save for two guys, Mark and Tom. Though Tom was a friend of Mark's and was being driven home by him. I am eternally grateful those two stayed.)

2:40am, 10 mins later Ryan has to be carried out of the bar, his feet dragging along the ground and is propped against a wall outside. I think I was so shocked I didn't realize I was shocked. I can't believe somebody had suggested I leave him behind and just go home to teach him a lesson. I was extremely worried but fortunately I'm not the panicked type. Rather surprising I didn't panick since I'm not sure why he had wet patches on him, or that I didn't know he had forgotten how to open his eyes, that his arm was coated in something resembling vomit and that the only actions he was capable was to give me his EFTPOS card then roll his head to one side and drool.

Actually I wouldn't have worried nearly as much if a stranger hadn't gotten involved and started interrogating me as to how much he had been drinking and that it couldn't have just been alcohol, did he take drugs? It looks like drugs. What are you going to do? Take him to the A&E? He doesn't look right.... for god's sakes man!! I can see that he doesn't look right!! Grrrrr...

So it was sorted, Tom would stay and watch over him and fend off any assholes that want to try anything funny which he did. Nearly caused a ruckus or two. I haven't driven in town before had Mark go with me to fetch the car so he could direct me. 15 mins later we finally get to the car. 5 mins later I finally drive the car down by the bar. Ryan is placed in the car, I pull his legs into the car and strap him in. The other guys get into the car so I can drop them off back to their car and Ryan promptly throws up out of the window and continues to do so at various points along the way home.

It was about 3:30am before I managed to get him home. I had to leave him in the car wrapped in a blanket he was so out of it. Unable to sleep, wrought with worry I checked up on him every hour, 4am I tidied his room. 5am I watched some of The Apprentice. 6am I was unable to move from exhaustion. 7am it was light out and after I had gone back inside after checking on him he stumbled in and I hastily got up to check on him again. It was 8am before I made sure he was properly cleaned up, safely tucked in bed and his car was locked up.

At which point you'd think I could finally relax and fall asleep. No, it was worst case scenario. I started having anxiety attacks (probably the lack of sleep and stress catching up on me) which started small from tightness in the chest before I had a full blown one which involved heart palpitations, hyperventlation, shaking, nausea, dizziness and to top it off my hands started going numb. That was great fun, meanwhile Ryan was blissfully unconscious.

9am I couldn't take it anymore and stumbled upstairs and his mother's first reaction was to supress laughter at the fact he had gotten horribly drunk. She thinks I'm not only neurotic but quite crazy for worrying that much about her son. Later that day she said to me, she was going to berate him for his behaviour but realized he looked quite repentful so it sounds like she went easy on him.

It'll take a couple of days for me to recover from that anxiety attack I think. To be honest, I've only had one other attack that bad and that was a few years ago... stupidly enough over an unprovoked text from my ex.

Some good came out of this, we all learnt something. He learnt who of his friends he could count on and never be so stupid as to drink so much again. I realized how much he meant to me, so much so that he didn't have to tell me how sorry he was for doing it and I wasn't actually angry at all.

Shame about the "I love you" part though. It was the first time I've heard those words come from a bf of mine and it had to have been done in a drunken stupor. Later that day we sat down for a moment on my door step and I asked him if he had meant it. He said "Just because I was drunk when I said it, doesn't make it any less true..." (we share a few meaningful moments after that *winks*) And apparently he had been trying to figure out how to tell me the past couple of months and knows I have a tendency to laugh at inappropriate moments which put him off a bit and the entire thing about, right place, right time, right moment etc. etc.

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See that? I never thought he would mean the world to me and he doesn't. He means everything to me.

Thank you if you read all that.

No worries if you didn't.

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