Today, I'm beginning to understand why people drink and party. I never got that before. Why the heck would someone look forward to a weekend of drunken stupor with physical and emotional damages attached? Why the heck would someone just drink until they couldn't anymore? I used to wonder these things, never hoping to know the answer. Now, I am starting to understand.
My day hasn't been bad. No, not bad enough to want to crawl into a hole and sleep until the "promise" of a NEW day begins. But bad enough that I do want to just forget. To do something so fun and crazy that I can somehow mask this hurting that is throbbing in my chest. I'm not one for over dramatic analogies, so you KNOW this is bad. LOL. I was watching this show, Mercy, and a bunch of nurses who deal with loads and loads of death and drama were getting wasted one night. And you know what? They looked happy. For those few split seconds of that scene, they looked happy. Even though one's dad was diagnosed with early stages of Alzheimer's and her marriage was falling apart, one was dealing with a suicidal patient that was beginning to lose control of her body, and the other was dealing with loneliness issues of being the "new girl" in a Jersey hospital. They looked happy. They laughed, they flirted, they danced, and they. Looked. Happy.
That's when it clicked. How I partially wish I could just feel that sappy numbness for a while. I wish I could go to a club, have a few drinks, get a little buzzed and be totally and completely forgetful. And while I'm not crazy, and know that it only hides the throbbing until you start vomiting in the morning, just those few moments of blissful ignorance seem so enticing. I want to get lost in a droning beat. I want to get lost in a shot or two. I want to get lost OUTSIDE my own head and heart.
But alas, I am just a girl with morals and values that exceed my fantasy of forgetful bliss. What's a girl to do?
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