Press play and read slowly, it’s four songs long.
It was a day like any other day, 24 hours long and ending in y.
What’ll it be?
A mixed state, and make it crappy.
Coming right up. And down. And up, but not all the way up, down but not all the way down. And up and down. And sideways, at an incredible speed. Would you like a straw? It’s the last one.
I’ll take the last straw and a pack of Camels.
Ice?
On the rocks, no question about that.
On the rocks, polar style.
Do I need to buy polar?
It’s on the house. And the garden, the street and everywhere else. Can I interest you in a packet of nuts?
Only if they’re roasted.
They’re always toasted.
I know that feel.
He shakes it (shakes it baby, real good) and pushes it and a small, square napkin across the scarred bar counter. The ice shifts and clicks and I stare into my drink, and think. That’s what bars are for, right? This bar isn’t a dive, it’s a plummet. It’s a fall from grace with a tearstained face. It’s called Where the Sun Don’t Shine and I’m a regular. The barman has nicotine stained fingers, a lined face and a thousand yard stare; so do I. I leave the straw sealed in its wrapper, pick up the glass and shake it some more, without even trying. I sip, then I tip it and my head back, and swallow the lot. I’ve never been a spitter. I wrestle the intractable bag of nuts open and stare at them too, push them away from me. I peer into the gloom, I’m the only customer. I’m always the only customer. I pay the bartender, emptying my pockets in the process, and I leave him a tip. “You’re looking a little etiolated, some sunshine wouldn’t do you any harm.” He gives me one of those oh not another lunatic looks and I walk away.
It was a night like any other night, polluted by light and hawking up the dregs of the day into this gutter and that (Great Expectorations).
One shot mixed like that, with expert violence, will make you drunk, no matter who you are. And it goes something like this.
This tastes fantastic and I love this place. Let’s crank up the jukebox, I want to dance and oh look, shiny!
I can’t handle it, this drink is overwhelming. I can’t cope, I don’t know what to do and here I am, alone in this gloomy place.
It’s all gone horribly wrong, all of it. They should change the name of this bar to Desolation Row. Oh god I can’t stop the tears, they’re deep and now they’re here and I don’t know what to do. I just don’t want to be alive any more. Make it stop.
Oh fuck this, that barman is full of shit. All those snide and barbed remarks aimed right at me. Bastard! Come here and say that to my face, my fists are so ready to kiss your fugly mug, you fucker!
I hate myself, wtf am I being such an asshole for, I don’t deserve to live and these tears will never dry up. Never. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to punch you so hard, let me pay for all the damage and buy you a pony.
It’s all sparkly now, let’s dance.
Let’s fight.
Let’s fuck.
Let’s sob.
No sleep till September!
Please, please leave me alone.
Drink a mixed state and you can’t tell the hangover from the glass full of hell that caused it. You’re a block of ice, rattled and melting into it. You’re fucked from the moment you walked into that bar and disordered the drink. And you think you’ve paid for it, but your pockets keep emptying and you can’t forget it, even though your memory is eroded more and more. The hangover cures are all expensive and they’re all hit and miss. They’re shit and piss, lit and bliss, they’re kiss and hiss.
It was a night that jarred, I slept because the meds worked, but it was fitful and full of night terrors and night sweats. I felt too drugged, but the pain didn’t vanish.
Baby, did you forget to take your meds?
The drugs don’t work, they just make it worse and I want to see your face again.
Tea and thorazine?
Is that all there is?
Is that a conversation, or the saddest playlist in the world? If it’s not sad enough, here –
So so accurate…. This is my my favorite post of yours. My absolute favorite. I shall pour myself a drink next you xo
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Wow, thank you very much, it felt so morbid and despairing to write. Stay away from that bar :0
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Pretty much exactly.
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Pity :(
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Yeah it is a pity, BTDT. and I am sorry you are going through it now :( I am still sighing with relief that my latest did not develop into full blown hypo … VERY atypical and I am waiting for it to revisit. Where is yours at, do you know if is it slowing down or accelerating?
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BTDT? I reckon it’s slowing, I finally got a decent night’s sleep :)
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GLORY GLORY that it’s slowing! and “Been There Done That,” sorry!
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Oooh that is a very cool acronym, thanks.
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I’ve had many a shocktail during ECT! (I love my anesthesia cosmos!) ;) XOXOXOX
It didn’t hurt that all the anesthesiologists were surfer babes…
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I think I fixed my comment problem….
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Forgive me – I’m gonna try one more time as it didn’t show….you’re my guinea unicorn!
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It worked, but it went into moderation. It’s the only one of yours that’s done that.
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I have two different folks working on my comment problemo: a WordPress “Happiness Engineer” & an Askimet staffer
Before buggin’ them, I did Google and WordPress forum searches, & did some own troubleshooting on my end such as checking cookies and cleaning out caches.
It’s stillllll acting weird. I commented on another blog 5 min. ago and whoosh – it vanished into moderation, I suppose, (although I didn’t get the usual line saying it went into mod.)
Rats. Sorry to vent such boring dribble. Apologies for this comment going into moderation at Blahpolarland.
Thx for your email by the way – I’m glad you got the book! Lemme know what you think!
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I felt like I was sitting at the table in the bar. I would have put Chain of Fools, by Aretha Franklin on the juke box. Drank and danced and fell asleep on the table.
Night terrors are the worst. When I wake up from them, I am not sure that they were a dream. I feel like some evil entity follows me out of the dream, into the darkness of the room.
Probably why I never sleep in complete darkness. I keep a small touch lamp on my bedside table. I can tap it, to get brighter light, without leaving the bed.
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I’m the opposite about darkness, the only time there’s enough here, is when there’s no electricity and the horrrrrrrrible street light outside is off.
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There is a movie I much enjoyed called “Michael” with John Travolta, that song is featured (in a bar no less)
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The movie might touch the grief mobile so use caution…
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Will do.
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Thanks for the tip :)
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Yes, I was thinking of that movie. I love that movie. I was wondering if anyone would pick up on that from the comment :)
I love that scene. All the women come to dance with him and then all the men get upset. Then he gets to “battle” with them, which he loves
Now I might have to go watch that one again today :)
Annie
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Interesting choice of role for a scientologist.
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Is he?
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He was playing Michael the Archangel, but he wa’n’t no angel.
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I was thinking I need to watch it again soon myself. What’s funny is my ex husband and I had just gotten back together, I don’t know if it was the time we remarried each other (definition of insanity/narcissism etc) but anyway we adored and laughed and cried all thru that movie. It felt very God given – but perhaps we gave it a little more significance than we should have. You know, the euphoria of love and etc.
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Brilliant. Brilliant. Brilliant. I can’t believe we haven’t bumped into each other at the bar. I go there too….. Cheers, clink, clink
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I’m not sure if that place is like the tardis in size, or whether we each get assigned one, like some sort of diabolical franchise :D
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I feel as if we’ve met here (same bar) before. All l can say is great post, EXCELLENT!!
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To the point of caps lock too! Tyvm :))
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You’re welcome (lest we should acknowledge we hang out at “seedy” joints like that?!) :) / :(
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Maybe the bipolar bars are for plebs like me, there might be bipolar bistros for the classy ones ;D
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Haha! Yes. Those 100% ‘sane’ shit don’t stink FUCKS!
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You talking about Catherine Zeta Jones? *pisses self laughing*
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Omg! I dying here laughing!! I forgot about her!
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*hand to forehead* I never wanted to be the poster child for bipolar! *single tear*
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:'(
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If only it were as fun as drinking a cocktail. Well. Not that I think drinking is fun, but lately I do.
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I gave up a couple of years back, my shrink told me it increases the frequency of mixed episodes. I have one v occasionally though.
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Cellos sent my body hair into a reverse dominoes effect \o/
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They’ve done some surprising covers, Smells Like Teen Spirit, for example.
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Great post. Reads like an intense short story. I like the sound of ‘Desolate Row’.
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Thanks a lot Bee, that’s a v cool thing to say. Aaaand have a listen to this…
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Ah never heard this one, pretty good, not very desolate though!
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