How to go crazy and humiliate yourself: Step One

Ok so basically yesterday I went completely bonkers. Like lost my marbles, was possessed by a demon, INSANE. Granted I am actually diagnosed as being bipolar, so I could go as far as to blame that but I think the more likely culprit is…. HORMONES. They make you do messed up shit, let me tell you! I am embarrassed beyond my wildest dreams and the only way to escape my humiliation is through denial and avoidance.

Deny… Avoid….

but that’s not why I’m here. Indeed, before I begin the slow process of forgiving myself that starts with flat out denial, I must first confess my stupidity. And naturally I’ve already done so with my friends. But they’re kind and sweet and keep it to themselves because they realize how idiotic I was, whereas I write about here (To the whole world) because I feel like everyone should know – I was NOT in my right mind.

Now first of all to explain my situation let’s back track to a little over a month ago…

I was a young girl at the peak of my beauty and umm… life… well actually i really hope that wasnt the peak of my life but let me continue…

I was a young girl, at the cross roads between innocense and being a bitter adult (despite my having technically been an adult for two years by that point, but anyway..)  when I decided to dump my boyfriend James. Now for many reasons we werent right for each other. We were being pulled in two seperate directions in life. His, was that of being an ignorant douchebag, and mine was that of being a psychologist and trying to understand ignorant douchebags. I am of the firm belief that if you are planning on being a mental health proffesional, you should not be dating someone that should be your patient. Which is one of the many, many reasons I left James.

Also, because I’m about to start ten years of university schooling, and I dont have a job, James the douchebag was upset. In fact he was far more upset about my not having a job than I was. (Also for the record, I’m a proffesionnal facepainter, I have a gig coming up and I’m making 700$ for it, so yeah, I HAVE A JOB) Anyway James seemed to think that he should never take me out or do anything with me, and that I owed him money for any times that he did. Umm, hello, I was his girlfriend. I’ve taken boys out on dates, with my OWN MONEY and never once told them that they owe me for it. James also makes 25$ an hour, Might not be a whole lot but any job i find will pay me about 10.25$ an hour, so I feel like James could have been a little more generous. Since he lived in mississauga, I would spend about ten dollars every time I went to see him. He did not pick me up and bring me to his house, he did not hang out at my house. Ok so I would be all fine and dandy with the three hour bus ride to see him (he’s at the far end of Sauga)  if he didn’t bitch about the occasional time he had to make the 20 minute drive to my house, to bring me home.

My not havin a job pissed him off so much, that he would call me stupid and useless, and selfish. Any of my friends would tell you that is not the case, that whenever I have money I am quick to share it with others. In fact those times that I did have a few hundred dollars to spare at least half of it would go towards James.

So yeah, douchebag.

I dumped him, and then he told me he cheated on me with a stripper while we were dating. A STRIPPER…!

For some ungodly reason I took him back for three weeks before learning he had continued to cheat on me. So last week, I broke up with him for real.

Ok, so this is where my humiliation begins… (as if someone cheating on you with a stripper isn’t bad enough)

I was talking to this boy I’d thought was cute, but kind of a jerk in high school. Normally I’d make up a name, but by this point I’m already embarrassed, so it doesn’t matter. His name is Dakota. We agreed to meet up and couple times, and we did. And I found out he sold the ever illicit chronic (if you don’t understand, dont ask). Anyway afterwards I tried talking to him, but being that I was actually right back in high school, he turned out to be an asshole and stopped talking to me. (my theory here is that he was only talking to me because my parents were out of town and he wanted in my pants – now that they are here again, he sees no need to come hang out with me) Anyway so me and Sasha were looking for chronic and she had my phone and I told her to text someone named Dakota and ask him for chops. So what she said was, "hey Cutie, do you have chops?" or something to that affect. The point is now this ass hole thinks I actuallly like him or something and is on a whole other level of awkwardly ignoring me. I dont really blame him, I would be a little creeped out if someone I’d stopped talking to said that to me. And I couldn’t really take it back and tell him I didn’t call him a cutie because A) he wouldn’t believe me and B) by extension I would be calling him ugly.

But thats ok, he probably thinks I’m crazy and clingy or who knows what. But THAT i can deal with. THAT could be worse.

On to why I’m actually humiliated (by my own stupidity) .

I was young and stupid, and incredibly hormonal. I thought to myself the only way to prove to Dakota that I think he’s ugly (over the years he started to look like a monkey, indeed I really did not find him to be a "cutie") was to have sex with someone he didn’t know, when he wouldn’t even know I was having sex anyway, because somehow that would prove how much I DO NOT like him. If you’re confused with my logic here, dont worry, so am I.

So I asked one of my oldest guy friends to have sex with me. No strings attached, drunken, sex. WTF. WTF was I thinking? Of course he said yes, he’s a man for crying out loud! And the worst part is that in my psychosis I was talking about this very loudly on a bus. Yes, there are people out there who have a face to match to this stupidity I speak of. And now I have to find a way to tell him "Sorry, I came to my senses and I dont want to have sex with you, at all. EVER."  Ugh…

like, who does that?

Let me tell you that friendship is gone forever.

Amy is of the belief that I’m hypomanic (Mild form of mania found most commonly in those suffering from Bipolar 2 disorder, ie, ME) her reasons are as follows :

I havent been sleeping nearly as much recently. The first sign of mania is lack of sleep. I have been more talkative and generally obnoxious than usual. My ideas are borderline crazy, and this so called creativity is forcing me to write stupid stories and poems all the time. When I’m not in my proper mind I’m of the belief that everyone loves me and finds me so interesting, when in reality everyone thinks I look insane. I have a million thoughts running through my head at all times, and I have trouble telling people every one of them. And finally i’m doing really impulsive things… or in this case, almost doing it.

Martha is of the belief that I’m hormonal. Her reasons are exactly the same but also take into account the fact that I’m fresh out of a serious relationship.

My point is that I’m glad I came to my senses. Last night when I was biggining to realize what I’d done I made a vow to myself that I was going to sleep more. If th

is is the bigginings of hypomania then the smartest thing I can do is sleep. I mean there’s not a whole lot of stupid you can do while you sleep, right? No, but actually sleep is good for preventing a manic episode. So honestly I smoked chronic last night, didn’t smoke nicotene, had a shower, meditated and did everything I could to make myself sleepy. and you know what? I managed to get eight hours of sleep. I’m really proud…

But also embarrassed. And worried. I’ve got to make sure I stay on my sleeping schedule from now on.

On the bright side I met these guys from Ireland on the bus the other day. One of them was very cute and gave me his number. I mean their accents were so cute and thick that I couldn’t really understand them, but what I did understand seemed great. And they invited me and Sasha to a party on saturday… so I’m going. I think it’s going to be a lot of fun. But they’re going to have to talk slowly to me. It’s not like they speak a different language it’s just that as a canadian I speak soooo sloooowwwwlllyyyy that it’s hard to understand someone who talks at a normal pace. but it’s going to be fun, and this way if I embarrass myself with them, they’re only going to be in Canada for a year – so my humiliation would have an experiration date! wouldn’t that be great, an embarrassment that doesn’t have to go on forever? But seriously, cute irish boys, cute accents, and an alcoholic party! if anything can cheer a girl up, that’s it.

But ok, that’s enough for today.

(PS spell checks not working today, so sorry if I wrote like a dingus)

 

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