some kind of epiphany

I actually struggled to find the new blog function because I’m actually really drunk. It’s almost 2am and I just had an epiphany at a club and I have to tell someone. My friends are actually asleep (I called them) so I have to type it out here before I forget so I can tell them tomorrow.

I don’t even know where to start but I was at a really nice london club called dstrkt with my friends. It’s a really offensive club but it’s very popular.

I just got a message from this guy who I was talking to asking me where I went. I’m at home man. I had a breakthrough. It feels amazing.

Anyway it was for some malaysian clubbing event. I’m not amalysian but my flatmate is and she really wanted to go. The rest of our friends don’t really like to go clubbing so it was just us. Also her sister but I didn’t see that much of her. She had 8 shots of amaretto before we left for our uber, that’s about twice as much alcohol as it takes to get me throwing up everywhere.

We arrived at around half 11 and there was nobody there. Like it was mostly the committee members. Malaysians aren’t very punctual people. I was super excited about the free face painting booth though, because i am 20 and this is the sort of thing I get really happy about. A committee member managed to guide us to behind the dj booth so i could have all the glitter on my face. I’m a cheerleader, we love glitter. Also three hearts because drunk Trina thought that was an amazing idea. I was mingling around with random people, including this one girl who knew this guy who I crushed on and went on an ill-fated date with. We took photos at the photobooth.

“Trina we need to find some guys.”

Oh shit. Okay so my flatmate, N, just got out of a long-term reltationship and she’s kind of crazy. It’s entirely reasonable, I went full crazy before, during and after my relationship so her case is pretty mild. Her brand of crazy mostly manifests itself as having an intense need to make out with hot guys.

The thing is, i would have been totally up for guy surfing with her if it was last year. A series of incidents happened though to make me start getting sick of that life. My friends and I affectionately refer to it as ‘Prague 1.0’, ‘Prague 2.0’ and ‘Prague 3.0’. There isn’t a 4.0 and there never will be one.

Prague 1.0 was basically me getting incredibly drunk in prague with my cheerleading team on 3 litres of wine which cost 35p (53 american cents) per litre, going to a club and making out with an incredible number of guys while being egged on by my cheer team. In front of my ex boyfriend. it was pretty bad. Prague 2.0 and 3.0 are its derivatives. my guy friend calls it ‘uncaging’.

3.0 was halloween night. I woke up the next day, thought about it and for the first time felt a sense of unease. It wasn’t really shame, because I’m a pretty shameless person. It’s a sense that something isn’t quite right, an imbalance within that was manifesting itself without. I didn’t really feel in control.

#selfrespect sort of came as a response to that. It’s an impassioned speech that I made vowing to not slut out for the boat party last week (my flat mate recorded it) and that my wild days were over. because #selfrespect.

I kept to it that night, even though everyone doubted me (my prague moments were hardly discretionary) and the next day I felt really, really good about myself. More in control. Taking charge of something.

And tonight my flat mate, N, kept pushing me onto random guys. Some invited me outside to talk in the drizzling rain and it was nice. But i felt really really empty. Like none of this interaction was real. Even if i talked to all the guys at this party I would still be overflowing with emptiness. Like nothing mattered, even though I was really dressed up at a really nice club and I had people interested in talking to me and N had ditched me for a guy she seemed to desperately chase after, so I didn’t have to look after a drunk and angry girl. Everyone seemed interchangeable and talking to one gave me no more pleasure than talking to the next.

All of a sudden I knew that i wasn’t happy, that this wasn’t ever going to make me happy. Partying really hard and drinking until I’m paralytic week after week. In that moment I would forget everything bad that had happened to me but I wasn’t really alive, or me. The happiness I’m looking for doesn’t come from something outside of me, it comes from within. I won’t find it in a club. I certainly won’t find it in a man.

That’s why I had to go. I don’t like doing pointless things. I called an uber and stood outside in the light rain, thinking about nothing. Two guys from the club came and asked insistently where I was going. Everything seemed to be as if I was in a dream. When my uber came, I walked directly into a puddle to get to it. I’m home now and it feels like this happened to someone else.

I don’t know what I want. I don’t know who I want. i don’t know what will make me happy again. I think that i’m starting to learn what I can’t do anymore, what makes my apathy grow and grow until it seems like people are ants and i am alone. sO Maybe this wasn’t all a waste of time after all.

I have an appointment with my counsellor/therapist/IDKwhatshe is, in exactly 3 weeks time and I have a boat party next week so I’ll see whether i can keep this going. or maybe i’ll give in to the emptiness and boredom and lose control again, who even knows

if I had to hold this all in my head until later today I would have burst. thank you internet strangers for being there

I THOUGHT MY OUTFIT WAS RLLY COOL