Friday night drunk

I have been making an effort to stay alcohol free ever since the break-up. I think the more I begin to rely on another "thing" (including other people), the less strong I will be once I am on my own. I want to really feel the pain before I can move past it so that I don't try to hold onto any hurt once I recover.

Last Friday night I decided to go out clubbing. It has been a while since I have been to our university's social Friday event and I thought that I might as well go again, since it was likely to be the last time I went out for a party probably until next academic year.

I got dressed, and then went out to get some gin and tonic. I'm not a big fan, but I knew it had a low alcohol content and I could handle it.

But when I got back, other people said that I should add vodka to the drink to make it stronger - "You can't possibly enjoy the night if you are even a little bit sober."

So I did.

I drank more and more and eventually I was completely out of it.

I knew I was drunk and I knew what I was doing, but nothing seemed terribly bad. Consequences didn't seem terribly important.

We left for the party. Me and one of my friends sang Britney Spears songs (completely out of tune) all the way to the venue at the top of our voices. People gave us funny looks, but I didn't care - it's not like we would see any of them again, anyway!

Clubbing was awful. The floor was completely flooded with alcohol and you couldn't step anywhere without getting your shoes ruined. Two of my friends were even more drunk than me. I had to escort one to the Ladies Room twice so she could throw up and the other had to be rescued from an extremely large-bellied pervert.

The only sober friend of mine had confiscated my phone once I had told her (drunk) that I intended to call Adam that night to tell him how much I hated him and I remember vaguely chasing her around the dance floor and attempting to strangle her.

The next morning she told me, more vividly, that I had actually slapped her and then shouted at her to give me my phone back or I will kill her. I had also stolen my phone numerous times from her and sprinted out of the club. She had then gone and dragged me back in.

I called back the creepy phone number (which I had received a missed call from) multiple times before my friend took my phone away. But I also remember me desperately trying to call Adam from another friend's phone (the drunk friend who was throwing up) and then putting the phone down. He then texted her phone with, "Sorry, you called? I'm sorry but I have no idea who this is. x"

The kiss at the end affected me too much for some reason and I started crying. I then tried to run out of the club without my coat (it was a chilly night), and my friends, concerned for my safety, held me back until they had collected the coats from the cloakroom and were ready to leave. We walked back silently to the halls.

I got back and cried.

I knew he was out and probably drunk. He was probably enjoying himself with girls while I returned depressed and alone.

Then I started journaling. I wrote down all the things about me I loved. I included things about my looks, my personality, my achievements and tried to make the list as long as I could. It is so important for me that I understand that I am worth loving and the journal helps me do just that.

Just before I finally collapsed into bed at 4 am in the morning, I knew that this would be one of the last times I would ever contact Adam. I even deleted the creepy missed call number off my phone.