I was curious about whether my total lack of competitive nature was all inherent or medication. Last night I found myself in a physical altercation due to excessive libations and the presence of women. I had no interest in these women, I was obnoxiously wasted and I assumed that I was amongst friends. Or at least acquaintances, colleagues, people who knew me and didn’t wish me immediate harm. This was not true for several reasons. First, these individuals allowed me to get wasted. Yeah, I know it was on me not to get drunk, especially with the medication but at a certain point it gets tough to see where to draw the line. I bounced over that line, mostly because I felt I was in good company and it wouldn’t be an issue, I was no more than quarter mile from my home. So even totally wasted I could crawl to my door without an issue. I cut loose a little bit. As I said I was obnoxious, it happens. Jack isn’t really here anymore, I don’t have protection. I don’t have many of the qualities that I require to recover from boneheaded decisions and drunken reactions. I do dumb shit and I don’t have a filter, translator or bodyguard.
The place is packed with people that I know, almost everyone there. I’m pretty sure I offended some random guy that I didn’t know. Some ladies arrive that I vaguely recall from another time. Yeah, I had met them. I had helped one to become involved with a guy I am acquainted with at work. I get her attention and she sits at my table. I have no clue what I am saying or doing at this point. I am thinking about that fellow and looking around because I am convinced he wants to see her and I know he is in the bar. I excuse myself, kinda… I guess. I stumble over a table or two and approach him with the intention of telling him she is at my table and next thing I know I’m on the ground with this asshole on top of me. I don’t think I even had a chance to say anything and if I did I know I didn’t say anything mean, nor was it long enough to be all that offensive because I was within range of him for about three seconds. Just about long enough to say something like: “Oh, hey there you are, I found (Lady X) she’s at my table…”
Then I’m on the ground. I was drunk, so my memory obviously isn’t totally reliable. Everyone else there was drunk so theirs won’t be either. I really don’t care what the truth is, I should be angry. I should be really angry. I don’t think the attack was justified. I don’t think that him not being kicked out of the bar was okay either. The one part way reasonable thing that I admit I did was to leave immediately. I was fairly upset at the moment and I needed to leave before I did something I regretted. I walked home and kicked a few things and awoke feeling confused and slightly guilty. I have no reason to feel guilty other than that I drank a bit too much. In my strange drunken state I think that I was doing this guy a favour by holding a place for his lady friend? I really don’t know what their relationship status is now though so maybe that was the issue? Either way, An unprovoked physical attack on my person is something that should right now have me really upset and it doesn’t.
I don’t care. I’m not totally apathetic, I am not anhedonic. My pride isn’t wounded. I was a drunken jackass and a guy irrationally attacked me, two wrongs already not making a right. I could get more angry and go find him but adding another wrong to this isn’t going to make it any more right. This is new for me though. Unfamiliar territory. In the past this is something that I would get wound up about. Something that would fester. I would build it up in my mind and the tension of it would cause me to engage in all kinds of reckless behaviours. Drugs, more alcohol, womanizing, maybe even get in a fight with someone totally unrelated to this original incident. Instead today I awoke and my first thought was: I was in a room full of people who knew me, some of them call me their friend. Other than pulling the dude off of me not one of them did a damn thing for me before or after. They saw me over-drinking and didn’t try to stop me. They saw my shitty drunk behaviour and didn’t try to get me home. After I got smashed to the ground they picked me up and pushed me out the door and washed their hands of me. That was it. Human garbage.
I should feel some kind of way about that. All I feel is really alone. Which is the way I have felt this entire time. Which is one of the many reasons I take medication. So, even without Jack’s help I get myself into trouble, but without his help I have a harder time getting out of it. There is nobody there to catch me when I fall. On the medication I have no edge. No competitive nature. I had no rage nor desire to dominate. I didn’t attempt to fight back, it didn’t even occur to me. I was just confused.
I don’t think that alcohol and I can be friends anymore. I have never done it all that well to begin with and now with the meds I do it ultra-poorly.