unfair. you should never talk to strangers.
No one reads this anymore, right?
So I guess there is no harm in saying some of what happened last weekend.
On Friday I took advantage of a very rare opportunity to go to the bar with my friends and drink with no regard for the next day's responsibilities.
I had enough drinks to get me drunk but not enough to get me loopy. 3 single tall vodka lemonades.
One purple rain.
It's with the latter that I met my fate.
There was this guy. Cute. Brown hair, brown eyes, baseball cap. Tipsy enough to mention he had a lot of money and buy a ridiculous amount of drinks for everyone within arms reach. Not too tipsy that he couldn't carry on an interesting conversation.
I mingled with my group and then meandered back to the bar to talk to cute stranger.
Cute stranger hands me my last drink of the night.
One purple rain.
Went back to group and shared some purple rain with a certain friend.
Began feeling terribly drunk and unable to walk straight.
My group decided it was time to leave. Couldn't walk to the car. Had to be helped.
Threw up out of the car window (sorry to the driver). Threw up every time the car stopped. Threw up every time the car accelerated. Went upstairs to the bathroom at the house I was crashing at. Threw up for an hour.
Wasn't alone.
Couldn't talk. Couldn't move. Couldn't make eye contact. Yet I was fully and completely aware of what was going on around me.
Still vomiting uncontrollably.
Tried to say something. Tried to say anything. Tried to throw something at the wall so someone else would wake up.
Don't know how long this lasted.
Crawled to the safety of the nearest bed and stayed close to the sleeping person next to me.
Threw up in the trash can next to the bed for the rest of the night. Too afraid to go to the bathroom again.
The next 18 hours were filled with crying, vomiting, and laying motionless in my bed.
What did he put in my drink?
What would have happened if I hadn't left with my friends?
All I want to do is talk about it. I want to scream and hit someone. How could you do that to me? I trusted you.
All I want to do is talk about it. No one wants to listen. It makes them uncomfortable.
I even tried to get a hold of Luke. I suspect he thinks this is a way to get him back into my life. I told him that if he ever learned about what happened he was going to feel very shitty. Didn't want to tell him and get pity time or give him the satisfaction of letting me need him.
It's been a week.
And still
All I want to do is talk about it.
I keep wondering why everyone isn't outraged by this. I want to know what needs to happen for someone to gasp and say "That's terrible. What can I do?"
That's not to say that I haven't had a suitable reaction of one or two of the 5 people I've told.
I think I need to see a therapist. I feel like this is going to ruin my life.
Everyone went out tonight and no one invited me. I suspect it's because he's there.
So it starts.
I'm just so angry.
So angry.
So I guess there is no harm in saying some of what happened last weekend.
On Friday I took advantage of a very rare opportunity to go to the bar with my friends and drink with no regard for the next day's responsibilities.
I had enough drinks to get me drunk but not enough to get me loopy. 3 single tall vodka lemonades.
One purple rain.
It's with the latter that I met my fate.
There was this guy. Cute. Brown hair, brown eyes, baseball cap. Tipsy enough to mention he had a lot of money and buy a ridiculous amount of drinks for everyone within arms reach. Not too tipsy that he couldn't carry on an interesting conversation.
I mingled with my group and then meandered back to the bar to talk to cute stranger.
Cute stranger hands me my last drink of the night.
One purple rain.
Went back to group and shared some purple rain with a certain friend.
Began feeling terribly drunk and unable to walk straight.
My group decided it was time to leave. Couldn't walk to the car. Had to be helped.
Threw up out of the car window (sorry to the driver). Threw up every time the car stopped. Threw up every time the car accelerated. Went upstairs to the bathroom at the house I was crashing at. Threw up for an hour.
Wasn't alone.
Couldn't talk. Couldn't move. Couldn't make eye contact. Yet I was fully and completely aware of what was going on around me.
Still vomiting uncontrollably.
Tried to say something. Tried to say anything. Tried to throw something at the wall so someone else would wake up.
Don't know how long this lasted.
Crawled to the safety of the nearest bed and stayed close to the sleeping person next to me.
Threw up in the trash can next to the bed for the rest of the night. Too afraid to go to the bathroom again.
The next 18 hours were filled with crying, vomiting, and laying motionless in my bed.
What did he put in my drink?
What would have happened if I hadn't left with my friends?
All I want to do is talk about it. I want to scream and hit someone. How could you do that to me? I trusted you.
All I want to do is talk about it. No one wants to listen. It makes them uncomfortable.
I even tried to get a hold of Luke. I suspect he thinks this is a way to get him back into my life. I told him that if he ever learned about what happened he was going to feel very shitty. Didn't want to tell him and get pity time or give him the satisfaction of letting me need him.
It's been a week.
And still
All I want to do is talk about it.
I keep wondering why everyone isn't outraged by this. I want to know what needs to happen for someone to gasp and say "That's terrible. What can I do?"
That's not to say that I haven't had a suitable reaction of one or two of the 5 people I've told.
I think I need to see a therapist. I feel like this is going to ruin my life.
Everyone went out tonight and no one invited me. I suspect it's because he's there.
So it starts.
I'm just so angry.
So angry.