The sensation reminded me of the days when I would snort poppers. My goth friends and I would dress in black and go clubbing every night. One of our favorite spots was this new wave bar called The Masquerade. We would get stoned in the parking lot, drink excessively and go on the dance floor and snort poppers or "rush" as we called it. I believe that it was the poppers that gave me the seizure disorder. I did so much of it that there was a crust around my nostrils.
I remember once my (former) BFF and I were in the car getting stoned and my sister showed up with a boyfriend. BFF said, "Am I stoned or is that your sister??" I couldn't believe it. Once I had told her about The Masquerade and she knew I spent my weekends there but I never thought she would actually crash my party. Bitch.
We went in the bar and she called me behind the stage to show me something spray painted on the wall. It said, "Why kill time when you can kill yourself?" Clearly she disproved of my beloved Masquerade. Then she asked how I would feel if Adam and Ryan saw that. Never would I have thought that twenty years later Adam would commit suicide. Sweet little Adam.
I was closer to Adam than my sister's other son. Since my sister was divorced and had two children, she needed help and I offered to watch them. She took full advantage of that. Adam was less than a year old when my sister divorced and she worked full time. I cut my hours at work in order to help her. My aunts and uncles hadn't really made an effort to be in my life and I wanted to be different with my nephews. I really got attached to Adam. I'd feed him, change his diaper and make funny faces until he laughed. I saw him grow out of infancy and into a young boy.
Then my sister met her soon to be 2nd (now ex) husband. What a dick he was. He gave me his cat because my sister was allergic. When, I went to pick up the cat (stupidly named "Spike". I changed his name to Church after the cat in Pet Sematary), the kids were calling him "Daddy". My sister's first husband and the kids' biological dad was actually a nice guy. I really liked him and was bummed when they divorced. I couldn't believe that after only dating this guy for 3 months, she had gotten engaged to him and had her kids calling him Daddy. What a bitch.
She got married on Friday the 13th on the beach at sundown. BFF and I showed up at the wedding stoned and Adam cried and cried throughout the ceremony. Midway through the ceremony, my sister went up to him, grabbed his arm and sternly said, "Adam. Stop it! This is a very important day to mommy!". BFF whispered in my ear, "She will never forgive him for this".
A few months after her wedding, she told me that she didn't want me around her kids because my friends were freaks and we did drugs. Her husband also didn't like me and the feeling was mutual. He had absolutely no personality. There was no warmth and I couldn't understand what my sister saw in him. She ended up manipulating her kids into writing a letter to their biological father asking him to give up parental rights so my sister's new husband could adopt them. And he did. When he adopted them, that's when things got worse. He was all about discipline.
I was happy to learn that when the kids got older and passed the age of 18, they found their biological father. Adam was the spitting image of him and they had gotten close over the last couple of years before he died. At the memorial I saw her first husband for the first time in 20 years and with tears in his eyes he gave me a big hug. I couldn't help but wonder how different things would be if my sister had never divorced him.
I moved to New York the following year. When I came to visit, I wanted to see my nephews but my sister didn't want me to. Finally, my mom managed to get her to let Adam go out with us. Adam and my mom took me to the airport and Adam looked at me crying and said, "I don't want you to go.". I will never forget that. It would be years before I would see Adam again. She cut my mom out of their lives for a while too. What a bitch my sister is. Poor Adam had to grow up around that insanity and it's no wonder that he felt isolated and depressed.
My mom told me she thought their stepfather was too hard on Adam and that he seemed sad all the time. Given the homophobia in that household, it must've been hell for Adam. I wish I could have done more for him... maybe it would have made a difference.
I think that Adam's older brother is doing drugs. He was Adam's roommate and I think he feels somewhat responsible. He has been going to all night techno parties and was going to a Paul Oakenfold concert. I know back in my days that meant ecstasy.... and whatever else was in the house. I find it hard to believe that things have changed that much in the rave world. He's 26 now and doesn't really keep in touch beyond Facebook. The most I ever talked to him was last year when he called me and we spoke for almost 3 hours.
So why did he call me? Because my sister had flown out to San Francisco to meet some guy she met on the internet. She stayed in San Francisco for the weekend and I never saw her. It was the weekend of my mom's birthday and I thought it would be nice to pay tribute to her over lunch. Going to San Francisco is a chore. All communication was done by text and most of it was her going on and on about "Brad" and how much she liked him. She really, really liked him!
First I was going to take the ferry but the schedule is terrible on weekends; so I thought about driving into the city but parking is always a nightmare and insanely expensive. Since she was staying at the W, I asked her if there was complimentary parking which she didn't really seem to want to look into. And she didn't really seem to want to do lunch with me either. She insisted she didn't have a lot of time for lunch and: can Brad come? I really, really like him!
I told her to have lunch with Brad. I didn't want to have lunch with some guy I didn't know and talk about intimate things like my dead mother and my dead life. She couldn't break away from him for a couple of hours to see her sister when she flew across the country and is literally a couple of counties away. It didn't seem worth it for me to go through the trouble of making it out to San Francisco so I decided to stay in wine country and bike my little heart out...and that's exactly what I did. I also didn't speak to her for months...
I found out later that she had sex with him and he never called her again. What a hypocrite. She has judged me because I watch TV shows that have people having sex out of wedlock yet it's perfectly okay for her to.
So last night was scary. After feeling head rushes, dizziness, anxiety and just overall weirdness, I started to cry about everything. I must have detoxed too much yesterday with the dry skin brushing and coffee enema and my body was having a healing crisis.
Today I woke up with I Touch Roses by Book of Love in my head. I've been listening to it all day... and dancing just like I did back in the day. It's strange. I was quite the dancer in the 80s but it was more of a sway...usually with a cocktail in my hand. That song reminds me of the days of rush and The Masquerade. This leads me to believe that it is all relative and my body is detoxing. It's even taking me back to those days by planting music from that time in my head.
I'm supposed to focus on green juices while I'm fasting but I'm sick of them. I did one green juice today and the rest were fruit. 80% of what I consume should be veggies. I've been pretty good at adhering to that unti today. I just needed a break. Sometimes the green drinks I make are surprisingly good but the last couple of days aren't really doing it. Gotta say that I'm getting sick of juice... but I persevere.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be 45. It will be the first birthday in my adult life that I have not drunk alcohol. Last year my (former) BFF came out and we went wine tasting with my neighbor. We went to a few wineries. My favorite was Ledson which is a huge castle in Glen Ellen on the cusp of Santa Rosa. It's beautiful and cool. There are also a number of tasting rooms on the premises. Then we went to an upscale Mexican restaurant and feasted on Mexican food and margaritas.
Never would I have thought that the following year I would be A) out of a job; B) not speaking to him; C) on day 18 of a juice fast.
A lot can happen in a year. I wonder what I will be doing next year... hopefully I will be in a better place than I am now, doing something I love and with people who appreciate me and all my quirks.
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