image from dvidal's awesome photostream
Oftentimes, in moments of personal crisis and stress, I find that my life resembles a cross between a soap opera, and a musical. Kind of like an episode of Glee. The soap opera part is obvious I expect; you feel like you're moving from one contrived situation to another with no control over yourself. Events seem to spiral towards inevitable disaster. A disaster that you're aware of because it seems like you're watching everything happen to a simulacrum. You know what's going to happen, but the other 'actors' don't and seem just seem to a follow a script. And with this comes an overwhelming, breath taking feeling of hopelessness because you know the future and the worst thing about knowing the future, as any real psychic will tell you, is that you can't change a damn thing.
The part that really makes my inner-life seem more like an episode of Glee, than say, The Bold & The Beautiful (although Eastenders would be a more geographically and socioeconomically accurate example) is the pop/rock soundtrack. I've been a jobbing pro-am musician for around 20 years and it's an understatement to say that music is incredibly important to me. It can literally make or break my mood, if not my day. Most people get "earworms", that annoying repetition of a jingle in your head for hours at a time. I get entire albums stuck for weeks at a time. I have pretty shitty sporadic insomnia at the best of times, and if I get an earworm I can literally lose days of sleep. I fear I might eventually go insane sometimes. It's horrible.
Anyway, I remember being deeply, deeply in love once. In hindsight I know it was infatuation, but holy fucking shit, I was smitten. And what made it the most awesome and most amazing thing ever was that, for while at least, she was also smitten with me. I had just left my wife and was living in Washington DC and had started a new postdoc position. At the compulsory staff orientation the HR person made everyone take turns standing up and saying their name, where they were from and what they were doing. Lo and behold, two seats down from me was one of the most beautiful 20-something young women I had ever seen (and this says a lot because I had just moved from a small College Town with literally thousands and thousands of beautiful young 20-somethings). Coincidentally she had just moved down from the same College Town and was working in the Neurology Dept. just one building over from me, in Pharmacology. We bumped into each other a couple of times that week, on cigarette breaks, and then started timing our cigarette breaks to coincide with each other. I felt myself falling for her; her huge smile, her always perfect blonde hair, the way she covered her mouth with her hand when she laughed, her big blue eyes that would return my gaze directly.
I still remember our first kiss, standing outside as the sun set, light was hazy red and gold through the rain. It felt like my first kiss, the way my heart leapt as my stomach dropped in the other direction.
Unfortunately, I was (am?) a selfish, narcissistic alcoholic who thought, at the time, that walking away from his wife was enough to make all the pain go away. And it didn't help that she was as bipolar as she was beautiful. God sure does have a sick fucking sense of humour.
Back then it was, amongst other songs, "Should I stay or should I go?" Trying to figure out what the fuck was going on with her life and my life and our relationship.
That was many years ago.
Nine days ago, for pretty much the same reasons as before, I lost the only person I give a fuck about in this whole fucking world. And I can't stop the fucking tunes in my head.
I can't remember when I last slept. I want to sleep.
I need a fucking drink so badly my hands are shaking. I do not want to drink. I will not drink. I have not had a drink in 8 days.
The blog might be darker than normal for a while. Some of my comments on blogs might be more acidic for a while. So, if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste; use all your well-learned politesse, or I'll lay your soul to waste. I am not a happy fucking camper right now.