The Good, The Bad, and the Manic

Last weekend, I managed to get out to see one of my few-but-precious friends (who really needs a blogname) for drinks, which was lovely. He accounts for probably 90% of my social encounters since I started blogging.

But before I get into that, due to popular demand (hah), here is the Sneaking Out story.


I'll keep it short, but at and of November, I got a friend request on Facebook. No one I'd met before, but we had a lot of mutual friends, and maybe spoke a few times sporadically over the years. We messaged for a few days, then one night, I can't even remember how, he decided to drive the 90 minutes from Melbourne to come see me.

Not wanting to, or knowing how to, explain my little adventure, I got dressed up and told him to meet me in the lane way. He waited by the garage, texted me, then I went down the backyard and jumped fence - skinning my knee on the way down. We drove back to his place, did things I'm not entirely proud of or sure why I did. I told him I'd have to be back by 5am, so mum wouldn't realise I'd left.

It was 6am before we woke up. So he drove me back, and as I opened the front door, mum had just woken up, and I panicked to explain where I'd been and who this strange person accompanying me was. Most awkward introduction ever. But her reaction?
    "Next time, just use the front door."

We went back to sleep for a powernap before he had to drive back home. When I woke up, I'd had seizure #2. Apparently I'd had a seizure, then went totally unresponsive for a good 15 minutes. I woke up to him asking if I was okay. In retrospect, this really pissed me off. He knew my mum was around. I could've been fucking dead, and he did nothing, said nothing, just waited...

When I got up, we made coffee and I told mum about the seizure and talked a bit in general. Before he left, mum told him, again, to just use the front door next time.


I really think I was manic at the time. There's no explanation for what I did. I'm still not 100% on identifying episodes, but Christmas time always seems to trigger one off. I only realise I'm manic after I do stupid, impulsive, dangerous, self-destructive things that I'd never do in a million years. I did leave a note before I left. No where too obvious, but basically saying if I didn't come back, I left with [name] of [town] around 9pm, but what's a note going to do if I ran into trouble?


Then, a few days later, was this 'date'. Ugh. What a fail. We made some pre-marinated roast with a side of sweet potato fries, which I nibbled at ("You must be starving!"). Then we went to a strip club to play pool (yes, we were actually playing pool) and have a few drinks. So romantic.

There was going to be a third meeting, but divine intervention got in the way. Mum was driving me to Melbourne, and we stopped for coffee on the way. Numb-nuts here decided it would be a good idea to balance my long black between my legs and take the lid off the add sweetner, while travelling 100km/h, spilling it all over my legs and skirt. Mum panicked and pulled over, and I decided "You know what? Let's just go home."


I know it was stupid and dangerous. Honestly, I'm embarrased by it, which is probably why I've put off posting for so long. I can't even explain it myself, let alone anyone else. I don't know why I did it. It's such a complicated and unhealthy issue, I've avoided even writing about. Is it self-destruction? For advantage? Because I can't say 'no'? Because I don't believe I can say 'no'? It's just a total mess. So I go along with it.

He isn't a good influnce. He makes me feel like shit. He likes how thin I am - no dramas - despite knowing I have AN. Plus, the fact he was talking about "I think I'm falling in love with you" and moving to Melbourne city so we'd be closer, teaching me to drive, after meeting me twice... something just isn't right there.


Now, on a happier note, last weekend I went over to see one of my friends, R. We watched a movie and I drank three glasses of wine and nibbled at a few rice crackers before my stomach decided to reject it's contents. I spent the rest of the night by the toilet. R got me his dressing gown, helped pull my hair up, made me a mug of ginger tea and rubbed my back. 

Unfortunately, this isn't uncommon. My stomach rarely holds alcohol these days, regardless of alcohol content or volume. Thankfully, R puts up with me. The first time, I threw up pasta all over his bathroom. 

  "S'ketti everywhere" he grinned

Eventually, I had to wake him at 4:30 to get a lift home. My sleeping patterns have been messed up since. 

It was just a nice break from all the crap that's been going on. I felt safe. I told him about seizure #2 and how my friend just sat and waited as I went unresponsive, not bothering to ask for help. 

  "What's his name, and can I punch him?"

I was having a heated discussion with mum the other night, so I took the leap and messaged him asking if he was free for a little. It was good to get an objective opinion. I spilt the beans about trauma, lack of appointments, and upcoming anniversaries. I felt safe, protected. 


Love you all. You guys keep me sane. Even when I'm not posting, I'm always reading, and commening when possible. Apologies for worrying anyone with my lack of posting lately, but I promise, I'm not about to go anywhere. I'm just not functioning. I've tried every day to blog, but just couldn't. It was only today I managed to drag myself to the bath and get myself freshened up for the first time in over a week (ew, I know, feel free to judge). I feel like I'm grieving, actual grief, for all that has been lost, but this post is long enough as it is. I'll try to update on appointment progress soon.


xxBella