the danish outpost
updated when time and inspiration allow. latest and greatest always in the blog.
no help. not from me.

2001-05-26

feeling kinda how a girl feels

i'm really worried. *really* worried.

caught up with earl today for coffee (i refuse to drink with him, for a lot of reasons, some of which will become clear in this entry). he finally picked a date and time to get together. and i was happy to hear from him. since we broke up, i've been unwilling to make much of an effort to get in touch with him. i feel as if i did most of the work to make our 'relationship' work for nearly two and a half years. i miss our friendship, i miss talking to him, but. if the friendship is going to work, and maybe get back to the place we were 5 years ago, he has to put in the majority of the effort.

so he called me last week. he left me a voice mail, saying he wanted to do something together. he left the voice mail at about 8:30. then i got an email time stamped about 10:30. in the email, he gave me his IP, which told me (by inference) that he had read my journal. checked my ref logs, and he had read the last month's worth of entries. all okay, by my standards. i only ever write things that i have or would say to the people that i know. but.

what i took from the email was that 1) he was drunk. my guess, based on the time frame, was four drinks. 2) he made a lot of assumptions while reading the journal. 3) he got more drunk, and then emailed me.

the email, BTW, essentially said ' i miss you, i fucked up, can you forgive me, too many tears to type more'.

when we went out for coffee today, he told me (with no prompting) that i called it right. he got tipsy, called and left voice mail, drank more, read my journal, wrote me, and drank more.

here's the scary part: after that, he got in his car. yup. got in his car, four sheets to the wind, and drove off. somewhere along the line he lost a lot of money. he says he was pickpocketed. but he can't remember... oh, my god.

i'm not faulting him for that, although perhaps i should. what worries me most is that i don't think he really knows what happened that night.

gah! i don't want to be worrying about his mental or physical health, but i can't help it.

damn. DAMN. god damn him. god damn it!

when we were in the process of breaking up, he told me that one of his greatest fears was turning into his dad, who is an alchoholic (reformed, thankfully). and when we were talking today, he made some comment about knowing his patterns. nearly unbidden, the comment that sprang from my mouth? 'all alchoholics know their patterns.'

it sounds harsh. maybe it is. but i stand by the comment. he has all the earmarks of alchoholism. he drinks alone. he will have a few drinks in the bar with friends, and then go home and kill a bottle of wine. god knows, i was at a point where i thought a bottle of wine was a single serve portion. but it wasn't healthy, and i acknowledge it. he... wants us to think it's okay. he as much as asked me today to affirm what he's doing. and i can't. i won't.

he is on all kinds of meds for depression. you don't mix that with alchohol. and he's on two contradictory drugs for the depression. i pointed out that he should take one or the other. his response? 'well, when i drink, i don't take them at all, because i don't want to deal with the interaction.' oh, well. that makes it all okay. NOT. if those drugs are going to help you, You. Need. To. Keep. Taking. Them. and you should certainly talk to your doctor about the fact that you're on two contradictory drugs.

i met up with his bro, pablo, tonight. pablo and i had a chance to talk, and pablo is even more worried than i am. as much as it sucks for me to be the ex girlfriend who is in no position to help, it's even worse for pablo. he is, in relation to his brother, a friend, a roommate, bartender, and sibling. and pablo is worried.

god love him, pablo was there for the whole incident. but he still wasn't able to keep earl from getting behind the wheel. the best he could do was wait up for his bro.

damn. damn! i mean, pablo and i had a good talk tonight, and i know pablo was happy to hear that we're all worried about/looking out for earl. i told pablo that if he needed to talk, or if there was anything i could do to call me. he was grateful. but.

:crying: why does it come down to this? why do we have to watch the people that we care about bottom out? if i could do anything to help... but, of course, i'm the last person who can do anything. all i can do is check in with pablo and hope for the best. and i'm still crying.

:phone rings: oh, guess who it is? yupperdoo. earl. i can't even begin to describe how painful that conversation was. god. his timing has always been... a bit off. here's hoping that he was able to hear what i was saying. i don't think he did, tho. i'm worried that i did more damage than good. he justified everything that he's done recently, and i called him on all of it. he didn't want to hear it. from me, the ex? of course not. :weeping: fuck. it's all no good. i can't find a way to be friends with him, and i can't help. the things i say can only hurt. this is one of the most painful things i've ever had to deal with.

yesterday :: tomorrow

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