she has fallen and now she is awake

On bullshit hangovers

Chances are, some of you have suffered through a hangover. Christ knows I have. What I’m suffering right now is a bullshit hangover – not through over-indulgence of alcohol, but over-exposure to bullshit.

Quick history lesson time! I had three serious partners before Wolfman and all three have had some effect on my current psyche. Mofo being the most positive in effect (since, y’know, we’re still friends with him and The Artist, one assumes the breakup can’t have been all bad and the relationship certainly must have been okay) but the first two dealt me some lasting damage. One obviously so thanks to raping me, but my first boyfriend probably did the most insidious of damage, the shit that flies under the radar til it smacks me in the face and I fall apart. It’s mostly his bullshit that I still have thing fucking hangover from.

So, this post goes out to Aza, with all his fucking bullshit.

I can remember a few months after I broke up with Aza, talking to Mofo about music. He was alarmed at the state of my CD collection and mp3 files – he’s a dyed in the wool musicophile and I had about three CDs and about four artists in the mp3 folders. I casually mentioned that I’d jettisoned my CD collection about 6 months after moving in with Aza because any time he saw my CD collection he would rant and rave and berate me about my taste in music (my biggest crime? Owning a Jedebiah album. That he’d bought for me back when we were friends. Back when I was allowed to listen to whatever I wanted.) to the point that just to keep the peace, I gave all of my CDs to my sister. It just wasn’t worth the ranting. The raving. The insistence that this ranting would go on until I admitted how shit my taste in music was – this admission would get more and more elaborate until I got rid of the CDs. At first it was enough to laugh and imitate the off key wailing of  Harpoon but it became more vicious until my music taste became a metaphor for how shit I was. How shit my taste in everything was. How stupid I was. And I had to admit that. I had to admit how stupid I was before he’d drop the fucking subject.

The hangover? Walking past several displays of belts while shopping for a leather jacket because Wolfman doesn’t like shopping and as much as I desperately need a fucking belt, not going and looking because I don’t want to cop shit about shopping. Because I’m fucking afraid of being made to feel stupid and shit for shopping. Which is not only a slur upon Wolfman (“darl, why aren’t you wearing a belt?” – “none fit me any more” – “why didn’t you get one yesterday?” – “well, you don’t like shopping” – “…but that’s what we were there for?”) but it’s a slur on me, and my strength and my choices. I chose Wolfman. I chose him again and again and again. Each day I wake beside him I’ve chosen him once more and it’s not because I’m bound to him – it’s because I love him and he’s a good person. Love wouldn’t be enough – he has to be a good person too. I loved Aza. Aza loved me. It didn’t stop him stripping my self-esteem to nothing for fear I’d grow into someone who didn’t love him. So he stripped me to someone who couldn’t love at all. Yet, instead of buying a belt I walked past then picked a fight this morning. Yes, Wolfman gives me shit about my magpie nature and inability to stick to a task but he has never ever made me feel like it makes me less valuable as a person. But instead of either just buying a damn belt, or telling him to shut up with the wisecracks about ‘ooohh shiney’ I pick a fight with him about how much of a jerk he is. Thanks a fucking lot bullshit hangover, that was an awesome start to our day.

Aza was a gamer as well. I was too. At least I tried. I wasn’t allowed to play CounterStrike at home though – my skills weren’t good enough and if they got mixed up with his on the leaderboard hell would ensue. So I never played CS online, just in case there was a stuff up and my scores affected his. I didn’t play anything else either and I had to time page downloads so they wouldn’t affect his play (oh dial up, you sucked so bad). I liked Unreal Tournament, but never played it because there was never a time I was home that his playing didn’t take precedent. Because he was so much better than me, it wouldn’t be fair to let me be shit while he had to do nothing while I hogged all the playing time. At that point I was doing 125% of my courseload and working part-time. He wasn’t working and was doing 75% of his courseload. There were no opportunities for me to play because I didn’t even get to be home alone by that point. So I only ever played at LANs – either small ones we ran ourselves with friends, or bigger ones. I never played by myself.

I still don’t. I had a quick couple of rounds of Guitar Hero last week while BunBun played at my feet and I realised it was the first time I’d played a game while home (nominally) alone that I can remember. I remembered that I hadn’t logged in as myself, but it was autologged in under Wolfman and I had a moment of panic. A moment of fucking panic. All these goddamn years later, a different game, different platform and I still panic because what if I bring his score down. This time I was aware enough to pull back and realise it was a hangover. Before I started an argument this time.

But how many of these goddamn traps are lurking in my head? Just how long is this hangover going to last?


One response to “On bullshit hangovers

  1. Liz February 16, 2010 at 06:57

    Wow. Let me just say this: I relate, so much that it kinda hurts. I hope the hangover eases soon for you.

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