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Anarchist Soccer Mom: 'Thinking The Unthinkable'

“…Or How ‘bout Rapies?”

Posted on 12/11/2012, events occurred on 12/6/2012

My anxiety’s been itching at me the last couple of days, I believe I was drugged at a local bar a few days ago, which prompted my panic attacks.  I had been sitting at the bar, having a couple beers, when I asked the bartender (who I know and trust) to watch my drink while I stepped outside for a smoke.  

Little did I know at the time that I had gone outside right at the shift change.  So when I came back inside, there was a different bartender working.  I thought nothing of it at the time.  So I sat back down to my Budweiser and knocked it back down and proceeded to order another drink.  Midway through my next beer, I started nodding out at the bar, just staring at the television.  Something definitely didn’t feel right, so I stood up and grabbed my hat and coat, ready to just walk home.

As I stepped outside, a friend of mine who I asked to come up to the bar pulled up in her car.  I had forgotten about asking her to come up there, which didn’t even occur to me until the next day.  I walked up to her and said “Can you just take me home?”

“Sure, man,” she said without hesitation, not even mentioning that I had invited her to drive all the way up there to hang out and just wind up asking her to take me home.  I must have looked rough.  So I got in her car and she drove me home.  I don’t remember the drive or walking inside.  The last thing I remember was sitting up in my bed, zoned out, staring at the television and fighting sleep (due to it being unwanted), just as I had been doing at the bar.  I looked at the clock and to my surprise, it was only 10:20pm.  That’s the last thing I remember before I slipped into a coma.

I woke up a few hours later, at about 1:45am (which is unnatural in itself, seeing as how extremely tired I was feeling) with the most anxious, panicky feeling.  I have no idea why, but I NEEDED to know where my father was right then.  I reached over and grabbed my cell phone off of the nightstand and dialed his number.  No answer.  I can’t explain how I felt; I guess the best way to describe it would be the feeling of a five year old, who just turned around and realized they lost their parents in the middle of the store.  

I get out of bed and I walk out into the living room, where I see him in the arm chair, watching television.  I thought that knowing where he was would make me feel better, but it didn’t.  The feelings of anxiety just increased and the thoughts of the apocalypse and my family dying flooded my mind.  

Now, mind you, I don’t believe in the ‘2012 Doomsday’, however that night I did, for whatever reason.  It was well past 4 o’ clock in the morning before I could finally muster some real sleep.  

I know that there are a lot of regulars in that bar that are the type of people who would drug unsuspecting people for the sake of ‘payback’, however, I can’t think of a single person there who would want to drug me.  So the only logical explanation I can think of is that someone slipped something into my drink, thinking it was someone else’s; the bar was pretty crowded that night.  

Needless to say, that place is definitely on my blacklist from now on.

Spanish Language?

Reflections for Today

I don’t want to be stuck in the same situation that the rest of my family is in.  I can’t take much more of this situation, as it is, let alone get stranded in it for the rest of my life.  I need to go to school and I need to get the hell out of here.  

I need to set goals for myself.  I need to have more willpower.  

My only problem is that I have no idea where to start.  I’m too buried in trying to find a ‘steady job’ and a place to live without having a shred of education under my belt.  I want a better life for myself than either of my parents have.  

I’ve always been told that I’m ‘the good child,’ and I’m going to set out to prove that statement true, goddamn it.  I need to be better than my brothers.  I need to be better than my dad.  Hell, I need to be better than my mother.  

I’ll never forget the moment two years ago when I met people my age who were from better areas.  With families that financially supported them.  Kids who never had to struggle for anything.  It was at that moment, that I realized I come from a trash family.  

Be that as it may, I can take solace in the fact that I have a personality and character because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth.  

But I digress, I’m getting pretty off-topic right now (different stories, different days).  

I feel much better after typing this all out and getting it out of my head.  I really should utilize this blog thing more often.  

It’s been awhile…

Hey, I know it’s been awhile since I posted on here (ya know, excluding things that are linked to this page, lol). I’ve been writing a lot OFF the internet. I’ll go through my stuff soon and pick things to post on here.