This post brought to you by the theme of this particular weekend: Drugs, Booze, Being Naked, Afraid, and Alone Together, and Just Accepting Things the Way They Are.
Several years ago I tried to start a brunch group. We did really well going once a month to little places around Los Angeles. But as most things go – after a few months it fell apart. Babies happened, moves, life. Life happened. About a month and a half ago, I had the idea to start the group up again. And I picked a place that basically only two people could go to. But I was determined to make brunch happen at that location. So I did what any reasonable person would. I decided to make a weekend of it.
The goal and location: Have brunch at Albert’s Restaurant down in San Diego.
I planned the trip with one of my friends, with arrangements to meet up with others who live in San Diego. Prepaid for the hotel. Made the reservation for the first weekend in June.
And then the chaos began.
See. I hadn’t paid attention to where that restaurant was. It is in the San Diego Zoo. So I bought tickets to the San Diego Zoo specifically because I wanted to have this brunch. Was in no way prepared for that. But it happened.
And remember how I’ve been having a couple of really bad weeks? That continued all of last week. It’s funny. There’d be something really good followed by something tragic. The most notable was on Wednesday being told something I am still not ready to publically come out with was done. Finished. And on Thursday morning being told that my grandfather had driven off a cliff. Which lead to several break downs and laughing hysterically because what even is life any more in my friend’s office at work.
My grandfather is okay. Ish. He’s alive. His life will be very different now. But he got so goddamn lucky and he’s alive. He also learned that his family will descend on a hospital over him and also then get kicked out of a hospital because we are all a bit much.
I didn’t work most of Thursday as a result of my grandfather needing family. And I took Friday off because I realized my ability to do anything was severely compromised in seriously negative ways. Which lead to a lot of dread and panic and me just falling asleep immediately once I got to a movie to try and calm the dread and panic.
As you can tell – the trip was off to a fantastic start and I hadn’t even started the drive down there.
The most notable thing about the drive was that it was late at night. So when we hit that point on the 5 freeway where we should have been able to see the ocean, all we saw was a black void. We’re pretty sure the void stared right back at us. And as we mused this the “Circle of Life” began to play.
Upon reaching our hotel, we were greeted by a man whose name translates to “boy.” And credit cards decided not to work. And it was after midnight, we were both exhausted and we both wanted to go to sleep. But we couldn’t. Because hotels require incidentals. And we could not pay our incidentals. So we waited and called banks and had banks call banks for nearly two hours. Boy kept providing us with cookies because he felt bad. He was just doing his job. But man did he feel bad because our laughter got more and more hysterical with each card declined because apparently San Diego is too far away from Los Angeles and the fraud police were on the case.
We were eventually let into our room at 1:30 in the morning. After being given 10 cookies and crying. Because the void had indeed stared back and decided to fuck with us throughout the whole weekend with sprinkles of goodness.
Google maps decided the next morning to give us a tour to the hospital on our way to the zoo. For no reason. We literally were directed off the freeway, circled around 4 hospitals, then directed back on to the freeway.
The food at this restaurant was amazing and the view was gorgeous. And we were able to see monkeys from a window. The zoo itself is also fantastic. And bottomless mimosas are a voidsend.
One thing we had decided to do to relax and de-stress was a sensory deprivation float tank. This seemed like a great idea to us in theory. Except my friend and I both have some degree of claustrophobia and a large degree of anxiety. I’m also afraid of the dark. There was also a fun issue for me of there was not enough salt water for me to properly float in. So the bottom of my butt kept lightly dragging over the textured and randomly smooth bottom of the tank. I don’t know why my body kept moving in the water. But it did. Some fun thoughts that flared through my mind as I balanced weirdly in this salt concoction:
- I am being pickled.
- Clearly, a sea witch or monster is going to reach through the end of this tank and eat me.
- Or a chute will open up and yeet me into a hungry mouth.
- I don’t know if my eyes are open or closed.
- Wait is there someone outside?
- There is totally someone outside.
- I am going to be serial killed naked and afraid.
- Maybe I should stop dating.
- Why isn’t the serial killer opening the tank to murder me?
- Did he murder my friend first?
- WHY IS THERE SOME SMOOTH PARTS WHOSE SPLOOGE AM I IN?
- I wonder if I am tasty?
- How long do I have to soak still?
- I wonder if I will experience other emotions or feelings again. I can’t remember the last time I felt happy.
- I want to nap. I always want to nap. Why am I always so tired?
- I’m just going to accept death. It’s going to happen in this tank.
My friend it turns out was having some similar thoughts.
It wasn’t the relaxing time I thought it would be. Though I am will always be confused as to why I thought this would be relaxing to begin with. It did give me a lot of time to panic reflect, which I suppose is good. And I think I would do a tank again in the future now that I have a much better idea of what to expect. It did leave my hair and skin super soft. Which was really nice. I did kind of just accept that I would get murdered though. Which could be concerning.
It left me empty again though. More than I have been. It was like the salts drained me of everything. Which, sort of came back as we met with friends again to have dinner. And we were able to comment on even though we’d had a lot of just what the fuck moments and pondering the void and existentialism. We were far less anxious in general. We laughed a lot. Even feeling hallow – I was able to laugh and not feel like I was forcing it.
That changed Sunday morning.
I woke up to a message that just kind of shattered whatever I had left in me. What had been built up the day before. I remember quietly sliding out of the bed and slipping into clothes to just go sit out in the hall and cry. I felt used. I was lied to. I still feel used and hurt by that message and the person. I sat, curled up by a large window and just. Contemplated everything in my life and everything that I had talked about with my friend and accepted that there are things I can do nothing about. There are things I can. And the thing I needed to be concerned with is the fact that I have been, for the most part, emotionally numb for a while now. The only feelings I’ve really had is being anxious or being upset and crying. I’ve been crying without realizing I was crying. And I’m tired all the time now. I just want to spend weeks curled up in bed to maybe finally feel rested.
Which, again, was made more poignant by Disney.
We stopped at Downtown Disney for lunch on the way back to Los Angeles. We both felt our anxiety growing the closer we got home. But we stopped at Disney. Which has always acted as a balm and helped at least start getting me on a path to being better. I’ve always been able to experience happiness there.
And I felt nothing.
There was no joy. No anxiety. No sadness. No magic. There was nothing.
Later there was fear. Because that is not normal. That is dangerous.
I don’t know what to do with life anymore. I looked into the void that was the inky blackness of the ocean at midnight on the way down to San Diego. And it stared back somehow. And decided that I wasn’t done with whatever it had planned.
The weekend ended with me curled up with friends watching Good Omens. And making new goals.
Like to stop drinking with the goal of if I drink enough booze, something will feel different.
Like no more dating for a while. At least no more dating anyone new. I don’t really want to anymore as it is.
Like using my new insurance and seeing someone about the lack of feelings.
Like doing light exercises again.
Like stop shopping.
Like maybe actually considering leaving Los Angeles.
Like taking a break.
All the things I need. All things I probably will struggle to do.
I don’t know anymore. I really don’t.
Shpunkey 