Fear of Drowning

One more for today. This one is on a much more serious note, so if you read my blog just for the snarky ones, go ahead and skip this.

Halloween is a big campus event, and this year it coincided with Homecoming, so parties were numerous. Becky, the Boy and I dressed up (girls in our slutty-best) and went to an apartment party that people in Becky's drama club were hosting. Now, I really enjoy these people, and have had great fun with them in the past, which is why I hope that nights occurances don't ruin future outings with them for me.

It was a college party, so there was plenty to drink, but I made one vodka and soda and sucked on that for about two hours of the night. I had eaten a big lunch, and a small dinner, but party food always gets me salivating, so I had some of that as well.

The night was full of mingling and madness, and I had a nice time talking with all sorts of new people, not knowing that this was probably mistake number one. Becky and the Boy also mingled and I was often left to my own conversations, which is totally fine with me.

After I finished drink #1, I decided I would make something else. I didn't feel drunk at all, and not knowing how late it was, thought that it would be nice to have one more. When the party broke up, I had only had about half of it, and I felt bad for not finishing something, so I brought it with me. Likely another mistake.

The Boy and I walked home, and here is where things get shady. I started not remembering things all the sudden, slurred my speech, started leaving my room for no reason, and finally started talking about things I had no business talking about, some of which wasn't even true. Then I started to cry, and I couldn't stop myself, and I kept talking but it made less and less sense. I guess I kept talking and doing things, but I was completely blacked out. I had no control of myself at all. I guess the Boy made me lie down and then I passed out, but I really remember none of this.

The next day, not only did I feel horrible about what had happened, but I was also constantly dizzy. No headache, no stomach ache, or any other of my usual hangover symptoms.

None of it made sense. I only had a drink and a half. I had eaten. I wasn't hungover in the usual sense. I had no control over myself. Something was wrong.

I am pretty darn sure that I was drugged that night. It scares me to death that I had no control, and I am not sure what would have happened to me if the Boy wasn't with me. At first, I didn't want to tell him or anyone what had happened. I didn't want to believe it myself, and I feared his reaction. After I eventually did explain to him what I thought had happened, he told me more of what I had done and how that makes a lot of sense. Originally he hadn't believed me that night when I told him that I didn't know what was happening to me because I had only had two drinks. He thought I had just been so drunk that I had forgotten that I had done a bunch of shots. I know I was lucid until after I made the second drink.

It is hard for me now because I know that those same people will be at other parties. One guy that I spent quite awhile talking to and who was there while I was making drink #2 goes to another school, so I assumed I would never see him again. But now he is coming for another friend's party. I know I can't just be scared of everyone now, but it took one slip up, that was all. Somewhere along the line I did something stupid, and I could have been raped because of it.

I talked with my roommates about it, and I think that two of them really don't believe that this is what happened. They just sat there and told me all the other things it could have been. One of my other roommates just said nothing, but one seemed to accept that this might have really occurred. I understand that no one wants to believe that this could happen to someone they know, but it is hard knowing that they don't want to believe it enough to actually not believe you.

Maybe I am wrong, and that I just somehow got really drunk on my own. But I really do believe that this happened to me. I wish someone would just tell me they believe me. I am not even sure that the Boy really believes. He is angry that even though he was there, something like that could still happen, but now, "for his own piece of mind" he seems to be trying to tell me who it could and couldn't have been. He is also trying to get me to not go out. It is just hard when people don't understand.

It is something that is hard for me to deal with, but I do feel lucky that nothing else happened to me. Now it just comes down to believing in myself and not focusing too much on the possibilities.