Soul Searching · The 8th dwarf: stupid

Break Down, Hang Over

Have you ever had a seriously emotional breakdown while drunk? I think I’m like the poster child for this. I honestly don’t know why…possibly a combination of liquor, hormones and unrepented feelings? Short of paying tons of money in therapy (where I fully expect to find myself once those insurance benefits kick in), I can’t think of how to figure it out. Stopping drinking, or at least figuring out how to control my alcohol intake (wonder of wonders that would be) seems to be the best way to stop it, but it still doesn’t help to find out the source of the problem. I know I used to be much more open about my feelings and talk things through more, but lack of time and such has led to less heart-to-heart conversations and, I guess, to me bottling things up a bit more. Besides the complete humiliation of getting so drunk, it’s also pretty un-fun to reveal this crazy psycho side of yourself to others, feelings abound and tears aplenty.

It happened to me this weekend after inhaling a few bottles of white wine with friends (good friends, ones who took care of me and did their best to calm me down – sorry I was so inconsolable!) and the emotion monster let loose. I’ve been feeling the absence of my mom more lately…I don’t know if it’s because it’s getting on in days and months since she’s been gone, if it’s the decreasing health of my grandfather and the scary similarity his appearance has to that of my mom’s in her last month or if it’s the fact that her 52nd birthday would have been this Monday (October 15th). No matter what the cause, I find myself getting upset more often and apparently the addition of alcohol did not help matters this past weekend. I feel like I need to talk to someone, friends, family, hubs, SOMEONE, but when I get the chance I can’t find the words I need. I don’t think I had many while drunk either, other than that I missed her and wanted her back between gut-renching sobs…the kind that make both your ab muscles AND your eyes hurt the next day. Somehow, even though it’s been almost 6 months, I still can’t believe I won’t ever talk to her or see her again. I miss getting 3 different birthday cards from her because she couldn’t pick her favorite or the ornaments she’d paint my name (and then Ron’s and Bruce’s) on for Christmas. And I really can’t list any other things because I have the golf-ball-in-my-throat feeling, and crying between jobs is probably not a good look.

One good thing about being so busy working? I don’t have time to think about it. Of course, that’s probably the problem.

Girl’s Night Out last Saturday, pre-breakdown
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