4th of July

Because my life is bizarre, my mom invited my ex husband to join us in watching the fourth of July parade in our town. Being around my ex is stressful for me. I can hold it together while we are together. I am nice, we are cordial. But after the parade, as has happened many times after interactions with the ex, I went home and cried.

I cried for hours. I cried on the floor, in my bed, in the shower.

I called Jack and told him I couldn't come to the BBQ. He was kind and compassionate and understanding. He told me to relax on the couch with a popsicle and find some comfort. I curled up on the couch and told my friend Kate that I just wanted to sleep. She's an amazing friend, someone I'm so lucky to know. Kate told me that I'd been spending too much time drinking and sleeping and the either she was coming over, I was coming to her house or we were going to the BBQ.

I got dressed and went to the BBQ.

I got to the party and I was anxious. I didn't know several of the people and I was still on edge from earlier. I poured myself a cup, half filled with vodka, half filled with rum, and a splash of OJ on top. I remember bits and pieces, but my next clear memory was at the end of the party, Jack left to drive some friends home. I fixed myself a piece of pie and watched 30 Rock on Jack's couch. Next thing I remember I woke up in his bed. My phone was plugged in and my slippers were waiting for me.

His neighbors had complained about the rowdy party (me). I took a dog for a walk. I walked around the corner to a park and went on the swings. I ripped leaves off every branch I passed. I woke up with a black eye that no one can explain. I don't remember any of it.