throw away the oars forever

"I think I may need therapy."

I burble to Scott on Wednesday night, drunk, holding my hand up in front of me in the dark so I can ground myself. It looks like a starfish and in the dark I don't feel as if it is attached to me. I don't remember the rest of the conversation. To his credit, I know he tried to help. All I know is that we were watching Harry Potter #2 or #3 and I got upset (not mad) at something, got up, slammed my bowl of Cadbury mini eggs on the counter, and went to bed. I woke up still drunk, hungover like I haven't been in a long time. I apologized to a bleary and bemused Scott, then stumbled off to get dressed and go to work.

Therapy. Ha.

I spent from 8am to 12pm worrying about what stupid shit I had oozed out while drunk (Scott assures me that everything is okay, but I can still feel that heat underneath my skin that means I've said more than I wanted to) and I think to myself, yeah, you might need therapy, but who the fuck doesn't? What therapist is going to fix all these stupid feelings of inadequacy? And why the fuck should it be anyone else's problem but my own? Get a grip, Landry. Join the club; there's a secret handshake and we use memes like Rorscach tests and nobody in here is more important than anyone else, so take a number and shut the fuck up, please and thank you.

Uh huh. All I believe is that I need to stop drinking on work nights, and getting that way around my friends. I used to be a pretty big drinker, and now I rarely do it, but when I do do it, everything bubbles up, and I get so angry at myself. I like to think of myself as a pretty easygoing drunk. I don't usually get all sloppy and stupid (at least I don't think I do) but I guess I need to put the brakes on it for awhile. Good thing my bank account makes that decision for me nowadays.

I do not remember the direction of the conversation that prompted me to announce that I may need therapy, but I have a general idea, and I need to get over myself. Who doesn't feel good enough?

And why is it anyone else's fault that I don't? Thirty three years old. Get the fuck over it. So I'm split in two. Least I'm not split in three. Never been the kind of person all wrapped up in finding myself. What's the point, when you have to send yourself back out there again and again?

Of course, Thursday's hangover (which finally evaporated around 11am, thanks to about 6 Ibuprofens, two Pepto tablets, and three bottles of water) did not stop me from packing the reminder of the bottle of Jack, a cheap bottle of raspberry wine (Yes, wine) and the rest of my nasty, watery 190 I had left over into my duffel so I could come and ride out TS Barry in Luling with my parents. I didn't really plan to come over here, but when I thought more about it, the last thing I want to do is be stranded on the 3rd floor in my apartment building when I live right next to a lake. Plus, I don't want anything to happen to my car.

On Thursday when Scott came back over after work, we decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather (dem tropical winds) and go swimming for a minute. Scott threw rocks at Brad's apartment building until he and Liz came out, and then they came swimming with us. We decided to go grab some dinner when the sky started darkening. Wanted to go to RNOs but they were closing, so we ended up going to Olive Garden. I stole a wine glass. I don't know why I'm stealing things from restaurants these days, but I need to stop while I'm ahead. After delicious calamari and breadsticks, Liz wanted cheap Walmart cheesecake, so we went to Walmart. Looked like a fucking bomb hit it. No bread, no water, no chips, and it was packed at 11pm. Had to work Friday, so we went back to my apartment. Watched some Harry Potter (sober) and then passed out.

Didn't really want to go to work but it was my early Friday so I went in anyway. We started moving up our patients as soon as we got there. Very easy day, except the last two patients refused to come any earlier than 1 (this annoyed me greatly) so after I checked them in, I went to Walmart to attempt to grab some groceries. Luckily I got water, but there isn't a loaf of bread to be found anywhere. Went to bank, then went to big Walmart to make groceries. Nearly had a panic attack in there, too many people. Wasn't much to choose from, so I brought all of my perishables to Mom's in case the lights go out at my apartment. Went home, threw a bag together, grabbed my laptop, unplugged my big Mac, scooped up Jack, and came here. Right when I got here Mom and Autum decided they wanted to go to Academy before the rain started to get Riley a bike for his birthday, so I took the rest of my 190 and went along. Dropped off Ri at his other grandma's house, then went to Academy and got him a Spiderman bike. Got me some Canes and Mom and Autum got gyros, then came back here. It's been windy with some rain, but TS Barry is a big tease. Drank some wine and read some HP, watched some Disneyworld Youtube videos. Nanny's staying here too because she doesn't trust being in a trailer. Autum gave me a fucking 70mg Adderall at 7pm and it's now just kicking in; my heart feels like it could kick a door in and I want to tell people things that I shouldn't be telling them so I'm making myself write in here instead. We did some shots and watched some Shameless, and now Jack and I are huddled up in Ri's bedroom. There's no chance I'm sleeping tonight, so I guess I'll stay awake and wait for the weather to roll in, as it's supposed to get bad around 7am and I guess I need to be up in case something goes horribly wrong.

I

wish

our

love

was

right

now

but

that

is

wasting

my

wishes

on

wishing

and

the

whole

thing

is

really

rather

simple

but

it's

not

easy.

-Rae