Drunk with My Shadow

Have you ever experienced your circumstances signaling to you that things were out of your control, but you tried to control them anyways?

Pulling the glass towards my lips, without hesitation, the words fell out as quickly as the wine cascaded down my throat.

The bridesmaid had just made a speech about her sisterly bond with the bride and all eyes were on me at the table as I sat there confidently unaware of what I had just said.

I told myself for years that I would never get cocky. It was my number one rule for maintaining my humility in a sea of overly confident personalities making their way through the world with tired smiles. The little me inside craved true confidence, but she wasn't ready to be vulnerable...So I self-abandoned in order to fit into a world I did not belong to.

The booze was free at the wedding, but the vegetarian dish was not substantial enough to soak up the alcohol I had been consuming for the last 4 hours.

I didn't eat much the night before or day of so that I could fit into someone else's dress.

I was miserable, broken, and out of place.

Holding my breath out of fear of bursting at the seams.

The truth is, I was privileged, even though I grew up a little depressed and financially unstable. I went to an amazing private school that prepared me for success, I had close friends I could be myself around, but, there was a lot happening beneath the surface. I was holding on to so much shame around my identity because I had been traumatized and I didn't know how to talk about it.

I felt a lot of pressure to come off well when I actually wasn't.

So I drank until I blacked out most nights; each drink taking me further and further away from my authenticity and sanity.

I asked my best friend to meet me outside for a cigarette. Moments passed and I found myself hand in hand with a lovely Englishman, walking among the red rose petals left behind from the ceremony.

When my friend came out to find me, I was no where to be found.

The Englishman, who I had known since I was a teenager, was growing awfully romantic with me. His tone grew slightly hushed as if he were leaning into a truth he craved to express...

"...I've always fancied you."

As I neared the point of no return, between the mental fog and drunken slurs, I told him:

"No. I am just getting over a break up, and I am not in a good place."

But that didn't stop him from planting a kiss on me, and it didn't stop me from kissing him back.

After spending a considerable amount of time under the night's sky, we made our way back to the wedding in a blissful trance.

A sister warned me about the red flags that were smeared across our faces.

My lipstick was gone! And some friends had pointed at his red cheeks.

I rushed into the bathroom to clean myself up, but it was too late, I had reached a point of no return.

There have been so many instances where I have been warned by a sister about another man's pain or ill intentions. But sadly, I never heeded their warning out of my own stubbornness to fulfill my own desire.

Back at the hotel, the same sister pulled me aside:

"Whatever happens, don't. He just got out of a breakup with his girlfriend 6 months ago and he was a mess and he's still hurt by it. He is not in a good place."

I wasn't in a good place.

I immediately shifted and shut down. I felt anger. Anger that had been lying dormant after years of processing abuse, death, and heartbreak after heartbreak. It was all finally coming to a head.

After learning that a man I trusted was pursuing me while he was still hung up on his ex, triggered my broken heart.

I told him no.

But my body still said yes.

The alcohol, the sexual tension, the previous heartbreaks, and the warning signs from sisters about the toxicity I continued to throw myself into was making me spin.

It was the same story over and over again, with every man.

If only I could've sobered up enough to accept the truth and get myself out of this loop.

If only I could find my friend who I had ditched earlier that evening multiple times.

If only I didn't care so much about wanting to be wanted.

I could've avoided a world of hurt for myself and others.

Boiling with rage I stormed into his room and ripped him to pieces for trying to use me to get over his ex.

A projection of my own mistakes, for I had used many men to get over my exes.

Dumping all of my anger onto this man, my words became spitfire. I was relentless.

I had given complete control to my shadow.

Accusing him of lying and manipulating me when it wasn't actually him who did. It was my ex who had hurt me just 3 months prior.

I was the one fresh from the break up.

I threw all of my hurt on him until he buried his head in his face and began to cry.

"She was messed up, and it was all fucked up. I'm sorry."

I knelt down in front of him and held his face exclaiming,

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for hurting you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as the unsettling truth revealed that I was capable of great hurt as well; I was not a victim.

I was perpetuating the same cycle of hurt.

"You didn't deserve that."

And I kissed him again...

The next thing I knew, we were throwing ourselves into each other.

All of the yelling, the tears, and the anger exploded into a colorful and passionate mess until there was nothing but darkness.

Waking up drunk the next day means it's all down hill from there. My head was pounding as flashbacks of last night exploded into my head.

I felt so ashamed and afraid of the ridicule I'd have to face, and the potential damage I'd have to own up to: my drunken stupor, my sloppy appearance, my cold and ignorant remarks at guests just trying to enjoy themselves, my explosive temper.

But also, I was no different than the people who had hurt me. My unresolved pain and the pain I was carrying for others was causing me to spin out of control.

I was sabotaging myself.

But only I could be responsible for my own redemption.

I lay there frozen as I let it all sink in.

He rolled over and grabbed my waist upon waking up and we went again.

We both looked into each other's eyes and smiled sweetly as if we were seeing ourselves truly naked in silence.

"Happy birthday." I said

He smiled back at me, thanked me, and kissed me again.

I asked him about the dress, I was afraid I had ripped it.

It was on the floor still intact.

He went for the shower while I called my friend's room to find him.

"Where are you?"