I want a drink.
I’m Alone, with Brian right next to me.
l(a le af fa ll s) one l iness
Thursdays were always my worst for drinking. even if I didn’t have anything to do on Saturday, I still drank more Thursday night than Friday.
because I was so Alone without being alone.
Thursday night is when Brian gets online and hangs out with his best friend. I think it’s great that Brian actually has a best friend (Blair in Florida and DevRex, the bloke in question, in Ar-… in Ar-… fuck, in Ar-something… ::looks at snail mail list:: oh right, in Arkansas). but I don’t like being Alone.
for those who are new to my writings, you’re alone when there are no other being (not necessarily humans, though usually so) around you. you are Alone (or 411, as I call it sometimes) when you’re lacking Connections. said Connections can easily be made via a phone call, a text, an email, some chats, etc.
for example, Brian and I have been sitting at each our computers in the office for over an hour now. he was chatting with DevRex the whole time; and for a while, I was chatting with a FetLife friend. via that Connection with my buddy, I was not Alone. but then he got offline. and now I’m Alone.
(Zero is still at his grandparents’ place.)
I can handle being Alone when I’m actually alone. because then I learn how to turn it into Solitude, Serenity, Privacy. and even so if someone else is around me and I at least a book or headphones, I’m fine then too. I have something into which to escape.
but when it’s Brian. when I’m here, and he’s in a world of which I’m very much not a part — I don’t like it.
and that’s not fair to him. he should be able to have a social life without me. please understand, that’s not what I’m asking of him.
rather, I just … I just don’t know how to not feel Alone.
my phone doesn’t work at the moment, so I can’t call or text anyone. it’s 1am on a Thursday night, so most of my pals are asleep. (but just in case, both of my Google account’s chats are opened, lol.) I mean, hell, I even resorted to stopping by Facebook for a few minutes.
part of me is saying, “stupid fuck, just go to bed.” but I’m always scared to go to bed on good days. because especially with my bipolar and multiple personalities, I never know who I’ll wake up as tomorrow — happy or sad, Jamie or Bree, depressed or eager … or a nasty concoction of varieties.
…but more on that another day.
anyway. I wanna drink. I want a fucking drink so bad right now.
but I’m not gonna. instead, I’m going to post this, take my last set of meds, and cut my loses. if all goes according to plan, I may even be able to go to bed without crying or vomiting tonight. (it’s always one or the other recently, and often times actually both.)