i've been going to the mall every day after outpatient, and yesterday i decided to get some clothes for going to the bar. i haven't ever been out to a bar. actually, my first time was last night. it was friday yesterday, and after my mall trip resulted in some slutty clothes in my possession i figured i might as well put them to good use as soon as possible.
i got home with my bags of stuff and put on some ripped jeans and a crop top i'd just got, loving the way they showed off my hipbones. i made sure my phone was charged and i slipped my wallet into my back pocket, setting off to the gay bar michael talked about sometimes.
i was dating ashton when i became legal, and he never let me go out. he told me it'd be a bad idea, and called me impulsive and irrational. he said those things didn't go well with alcohol.
last night was partially a fuck you to ashton irwin.
when i got there the bouncer asked me if i wanted a wristband, and i said yes without asking what it meant. turns out that it meant i was "single and dtf." i did lots of that last night.
i woke up this morning in someone else's bed, multiple sets of limbs tangled with mine. my head was pounding and my mouth was dry, but that all disappeared when i felt bile rise in my throat. i stepped on a few appendages in my scramble to puke, and only when i was hunched over a sink did i realize that i was naked.
once i finished retching and i'd drank some tap water, i looked for my clothes in the random apartment. i found them, my wallet and phone intact in the pockets, and got dressed before leaving. i figured out i was a few blocks from the bar, in a rich area, and so my trek back to my apartment was definitely a walk of shame.
despite it all, i kinda loved getting wasted and having wild sex. i think i'm going to do it again.
fuck my therapist, she only talks to the psychiatrist once a month so he won't find out i skipped seeing her today.
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