Everyone is entitled to go a little crazy now and again. If you don’t you’re either incredibly strong or heavily medicated, most likely the latter of the two. This weekend was my moment of crazy – though it caught me completely off guard.
Having the Fourth of July off, like almost everyone else in the city, I made plans to be at the Russian’s house in Astoria with the rest of my friends. What could be more fun than food, drinks and fireworks? The day started off as typical as any other. Getting up and making my way to the gym, I did a few work things and then off to Queens I headed.
A few people had already arrived when I made my way to the door, soaked from the hurricane weather that rolled in as I stepped off the train. The next few hours were exactly what you would expect. Drinks, jokes and laughing. Heading in for a bathroom break it was like a switch flipped in my head. A whole bunch of irrational emotions decided to make an appearance. Seeing as I hate admitting I even have emotions, the most rational thing at the moment to me was slipping out the door and heading home. Home is as close to a private padded room as I’m getting.
My walk to the train, which I vaguely recall was made more crazy as two people started text messaging me. A friend and my sister. I love my sister, but I’m realizing that when I connect with family they unintentionally increase the insanity. One more reason why we all live so far apart.
What stands as the strangest part of this all – a few hours later, after I was home and took a minute to unwind things were completely fine. Though this leads me again to think whatever went off in my head was emotion fueled crazy-town. So much so that I spent all of the next day locked inside my apartment forcing sleep. It was easier than crawling off the bed and out into the world.
Another thought occurring to me: Could this be the result of suppressing emotions? For a while things would pop out as a random tear, but I quickly learned to control and ignore that issue. Perhaps this is me being dramatic and it was a one time, alcohol, lack of food motivated moment. But damn – either way, what the hell was that?