When other people talk about high school or college, there are typical stories. There’s the time Bobby drank so much he blacked out and disappeared and wandered back into town the next morning after waking up in the woods. There’s the time Murphy did a little too much coke and ended up in the ER. There’s the time Miranda drank so much she jumped off the roof into the pool and everyone thought she was gonna drown. There’s the time Stephanie drank so much that her friends took her to the ER, but they were all wasted so instead of doing the RIGHT thing, they pulled up to the ER, threw her out of the car, honked the horn, sped off, and hoped for the best.
I don’t have these stories. Historically I’m just not that person. I can drink a lot, but at worst I tend to go home. I don’t do any drugs. I’ve never almost died from alcohol intake. I’m boring.
Saturday was a good day. I got up to take Bdo to the vet for a pre-dental exam, and Kyrie tagged along so they cold recheck her eye. Friday morning, you see, she couldn’t open it. I took the day off work and took her to the vet. They couldn’t tell what was wrong so they gave me an antibiotic, pain killers, and steroid eye drops to reduce swelling. Saturday they rechecked it and there’s no object in it, or any scratches. Somehow, even with her deep-set chow chow eyes, she managed to hit it so hard on something it bruised the eye and made her 3rd eyelid (did you know dogs have 3 eyelids?! fascinating.) swell up. She’s doing fine now, though.
Also that morning, I had received texts from D2. He wanted to know if I was going to the show tonight. It would be the first time he’d see his old band play without him. They got a new keyboardist and he wanted to show support… but not alone, because it’s still kinda shit he had to leave the band, ya know? So I agreed to go and planned on being there early to grab a ticket.
In the meantime, Mom and I went to see Krampus. It was gold. It’s not scary, but it’s funny, fast-paced, and has a good story. I’m really hoping that they capitalize on the merchandising for it. I want a Krampus bell… and potentially a small collection of his evil toy minions. I really enjoyed it.
When we got home I cleaned the garage. It was already pretty clean, but I rearranged stuff so that I could fit my car in it. It’s been years since the Jeep fit in the garage. So I was super stoked.
I got ready to go out. It was a steam punk band headlining, so I threw on my favorite outfit, which is a LOT of black and white stripes, with some boots, and headed out. Parking was a nightmare. I got there early and I still couldn’t find anywhere to park. Damn the Bluebird district. It’s wretched. Everything is marked residential parking only. Still, I finally found a place pretty far from the venue, and ended up walking with some other random concert-goers. I would figure out walking back alone later.
Got a ticket, said hello to the bands, had a drink (1). Talked to some people, D2 showed up with his boyfriend we all did a shot (2). Saw the first two bands play. Guy I gave a cigarette to outside bought me a drink (3). Went outside with D2 and Co to smoke. BLACKOUT.
I vaguely remember sitting in an ambulance. I kept apologizing to the EMTs and telling them how stupid this was, because this isn’t how they should be spending their valuable time.
I vaguely remember talking to the officer at the ER a few times. I can’t tell you what was said, but a lot of it is me saying something and him ignoring me. Which is fair.
Then I woke up and my mom was holding my hand. She looked really concerned. I didn’t know what was going on. I babbled. And when I was acting more coherent she was allowed to take me home.
I’d thrown up on myself at some point in the night. I didn’t remember doing that, or anything other than going outside with D2 & Co. One of the people I was with said that I’d seemed a little tipsy, and then got very drunk in like a minute in a half and hit the ground. She and her son were concerned about me, but all she could do was panic…
A fireman showed up from somewhere, and called my mom on my cell, but she was too far out for them to wait for her to get there, so they called an ambulance. Then wherever they put my phone called her again and all she could hear was me screaming and losing my mind. She was, of course, worried beyond all belief. Then the line went dead and no one called her for a while.
I guess I kept trying to call her from the hospital, and failed. She called me back, though, and the nurse on call answered to tell her where I was.
I don’t remember her getting there. I just remember the look of worry. I remember I told her a few times that this wasn’t me, and I cried a lot. Then she took me home.
I’m wracked with guilt. My mom wasn’t mad. She just took me home, let me in my house and said she’d take me back to my car in the morning. She’s just glad I’m okay, and on the way home I kept trying to apologize and she said, “You don’t even know the stupid crap I did when I was your age. I’m just glad you’re okay and no one got hurt.” Literally, in that moment she essentially said she’d done worse and that it was fine. That’s killing me.
I feel like she should be mad. Yeah, I’m 27 years old and I totally an adult, but because of me she had to get up in the dead of night, worry the whole way to a hospital she’s never been to before, and get me. While those who were with me maintain that I didn’t do anything reckless or wrong, and that I was probably drugged somehow, even though I watched the bartender make the drink that guy bought me, I FEEL TERRIBLE. I feel like I should be punished somehow or something… It’s just… whack.
Sunday I woke up, took a shower, and mom took me to my car after she drank her coffee. She still wasn’t mad. I went to work, but couldn’t get a whole lot done because I couldn’t write anything. My whole being was weird and shaky and every so often I would move my head and get dizzy… so I went home. I brought mom Chipotle, and then told her I was going home to sleep, because I still felt wrong. I called her, even though she lives next door to me, like 5 times that afternoon. She still wasn’t mad. Everything was still okay. Tomorrow would be better.
So this morning I got up, took Bdo in for his dental, and drove to work.
I’m better, I guess. I’m still feeling like I did something wrong, even though I prolly didn’t. Won’t be drinking when I go out for a while, though… maybe one beer if it comes in a bottle and I can watch them open it.