October 27, 2021 Getting to "Well", Part II
There were lots of times I did the Klonipin thing, and occasionally the Klonipin and Vodka thing, but I only went to the hospital once for that, in April of 2018, just two months after the affair ended and five days short of my 55th birthday. It was Our Lady of Peace and unlike the Brook, they wouldn’t give me a fucking pen to write with. So, I stayed in my room and slept for three days and then left. I mean they let me leave. I was there voluntarily. All the other times I tried to off myself I just went to bed then woke up the next day. Which was incredibly disappointing at first, then after I’d gotten up, fed the cats, and had a cup of coffee, I was relieved. I really did not want to die. I just didn’t know how to go on living.
It was over with Jeff. Over Over. And I was consumed with a pain so intense I stayed in bed most days. I can’t begin to describe what that time felt like. I was still seeing men I’d met online. I was still having plenty of sex. With lots of different men. Sad sex. The kind of sex that leaves you feeling hollow inside. I was numb. Paralyzed.
I hadn’t made any friends in Louisville. Jeff was it. He was all of it. He was my best friend. He was everything. I really believed my heart and my life were big enough for people besides Jeff. But it was a lie. I was filled with Jeff. Only Jeff. Consumed by him and bursting with the pain of losing him. So much of me was just gone. Eaten up by Pain.
And then, things started to turn around.
There was a new tiki bar down the block, The Limbo. It was so small and so new and it made me feel so good just to be inside. It opened at 4 in the afternoon and the appetizers were $2. Without an income still, most days that was all I ate. The Limbo will get its own post soon. The Limbo saved my life.
In early May 2018, I met a woman named Terri at the Limbo. She was there with a friend; they’d just come from a Grateful Dead Cover Band show at the Mercury. She was my age. She was a clown. Legit. In a circus. She had a day job – she was a fucking statistician! So, how’s that for a dichotomy. She was a total liberal hippy, and she had an entire wardrobe of tie die shirts and skirts she’d created. I loved her immediately. A soulmate. I was so desperate for someone just like Terri to be my friend.
We had dinner at the Mexican restaurant on Fourth Street Live the following week. She paid. I must have been blabbering a bit about my situation and she knew how strapped I was. Then we went to the Limbo. It was Titty Taco Tuesday! Burlesque! It was the first time I’d been to the show. It was the first time I’d ever seen burlesque. I fell in love with the art. And I fell madly in love with the performers!
To be continued…
