Long story that involves drinking and acting stupid
Posted: April 19th, 2015, 7:23 am
Hey gang. It's been a while. So allow me to reintroduce myself and share a tale of bipolar woe.
Two things you need to know before you dive in...
1. I’m Bipolar II with rapid cycling (weeee) which will soon become an important part of this story.
And 2. My wife and I recently came to the conclusion that the affection, love, sex part of our marriage was basically over. Actually she came to that conclusion, but after dealing with my ups and downs for almost 20 years, I can’t say I blame her.
So here goes.
Last Friday was my sister’s birthday and she threw a big shindig in NYC with a gaggle of her close friends, and big brother. I went alone, wife stayed home with the kids. She's close to my sister but didn't want to do the night in the city, expectation of sex thing with me.
There were 10 of us at dinner. I knew about half of the people there. My sister points to the attractive woman sitting across from me and said ‘You remember Gertrude (not her real name) from High School?’ Suddenly I recognize her - she was this gawky nerdy girl who hung out with my younger sister. That was 30 years ago - the years were very kind to her to say the least.
Here’s where it gets interesting. We’re on our second, third, maybe fourth bottle of wine and I start imagining Gertrude is staring at me. Maybe she was, who knows. But I got this thought that maybe she had some school girl crush on me - being the big brother of her friend. A few more glasses of wine and my mind (and libido) went into overdrive.
We finish dinner and head to a club. The voice in the back of my head - the one that sounds like my therapist - is telling me that I’m slipping. I need to slow down lest I slip into hypomania. The other voice in my head, the one that sounds like me - says 'screw it, I’m there already, let it ride… weeee!!!’
We get to the club and I go full-on manic. I’m sipping, gulping, straight vodka. I can barely stand up. I can barely take my eyes of off Gertrude. I can’t tell if she realizes what’s going on. I think she did. I’m fairly sure at some point we talked about something, I’m not sure what. I’m also fairly sure she put her hand on my arm.
Now with wife and I - there’s barely been any physical contact, affectionate or otherwise, in months and I’m physically starved for the touch of another human. So this really sets me off.
I pretty much went down the drain from there. I can’t remember a whole lot. I can’t even remember walking back to my hotel.
Yesterday I was too hung over to even think. Now it’s two days later and I’m crashing something awful. And I can’t remember if I owe someone an apology or explanation or if it was all in my head. I don’t even know how to ask her if I was behaving inappropriately. Where do I start?
I’m going to curl up into my little ball of depression. Maybe later I’ll grab my camera and go shooting. It always seems to help.
Two things you need to know before you dive in...
1. I’m Bipolar II with rapid cycling (weeee) which will soon become an important part of this story.
And 2. My wife and I recently came to the conclusion that the affection, love, sex part of our marriage was basically over. Actually she came to that conclusion, but after dealing with my ups and downs for almost 20 years, I can’t say I blame her.
So here goes.
Last Friday was my sister’s birthday and she threw a big shindig in NYC with a gaggle of her close friends, and big brother. I went alone, wife stayed home with the kids. She's close to my sister but didn't want to do the night in the city, expectation of sex thing with me.
There were 10 of us at dinner. I knew about half of the people there. My sister points to the attractive woman sitting across from me and said ‘You remember Gertrude (not her real name) from High School?’ Suddenly I recognize her - she was this gawky nerdy girl who hung out with my younger sister. That was 30 years ago - the years were very kind to her to say the least.
Here’s where it gets interesting. We’re on our second, third, maybe fourth bottle of wine and I start imagining Gertrude is staring at me. Maybe she was, who knows. But I got this thought that maybe she had some school girl crush on me - being the big brother of her friend. A few more glasses of wine and my mind (and libido) went into overdrive.
We finish dinner and head to a club. The voice in the back of my head - the one that sounds like my therapist - is telling me that I’m slipping. I need to slow down lest I slip into hypomania. The other voice in my head, the one that sounds like me - says 'screw it, I’m there already, let it ride… weeee!!!’
We get to the club and I go full-on manic. I’m sipping, gulping, straight vodka. I can barely stand up. I can barely take my eyes of off Gertrude. I can’t tell if she realizes what’s going on. I think she did. I’m fairly sure at some point we talked about something, I’m not sure what. I’m also fairly sure she put her hand on my arm.
Now with wife and I - there’s barely been any physical contact, affectionate or otherwise, in months and I’m physically starved for the touch of another human. So this really sets me off.
I pretty much went down the drain from there. I can’t remember a whole lot. I can’t even remember walking back to my hotel.
Yesterday I was too hung over to even think. Now it’s two days later and I’m crashing something awful. And I can’t remember if I owe someone an apology or explanation or if it was all in my head. I don’t even know how to ask her if I was behaving inappropriately. Where do I start?
I’m going to curl up into my little ball of depression. Maybe later I’ll grab my camera and go shooting. It always seems to help.