The Revenge of Biological Processes

*"Take THAT!!!", It said.

After party-hardy-ing it up last week, my immune system decided to go on strike and allow various germs to get at me and hit me with the good ol' fashioned cough, colds, and joint pains. It's teaching me a lesson. I can't say anything. I deserve it.

Damm... i'm hella sick.

For the first time in my life, however, i'm willing to take meds and have even gone as far as self-medicating. Meaning- nobody has to force me to take those tiny little pills to shut me up and make me feel better. I'm doing all that on my own. *pat on the back*

I don't agree with medication. Majority of the time i refuse to take any. Even if it has profound imagination altering effects, i'd rather steer clear away from "chemicals". I've always been more of the Herbal kind.

It's a long story and also very ironic given that my boyfriend is a doctor. I just think that normal household remedies should do the trick- lots of water, some good rest, and awesome, homemade soup.

In some way, i also feel like i'm making a statement. I know i will never be heard and this selfless act will never make a difference- but if you put a price on health, and a price on life... who's to say that we deserve an instant pick-upper more than the next person who's begging for food on that block down the street? I'm pretty sure he/she is having a shitty day too.

Anyway, I'm going to have to ignore that and insist on being ignorant. I am trying to get better and i hope that it works sooner rather than later. If this doesn't go away before Qatar, i will be one cranky Dj.
I know it serves me right. Thinking i can party like it's 1999. What the heck was going through my head? *tsk tsk tsk

This past week was a glimpse on what life was really like years back. Out every single night, the massive amounts of alcohol consumption, head home as the sun comes up, sleep during the day, and up early evening just in time to do it all over again. This was everyday. Two years- straight. I was 17 years old then. It took a lot longer til the fatigue kicked in, but it undoubtedly did... in the worst way i could remember.

I was bed ridden for 2 weeks. I had an intense fever, the shakes, no appetite, and was shivering in the Manila heat. I lost a total of 20 pounds in 4 days. It was my body's way of telling me that it had had enough. I waved my flag of surrender and obliged.

I'm sure these types of things are appropriate for vacations and such, but a lifestyle that involves all of these vices on a constant basis can't be good. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out. I'm probably hit with a double whammy because... well, i don't even take vitamins! I can't really expect to be immune to illness. This was totally heading in my direction.

I have been doing this for a good amount of time. 10 years of partying like a Rock Star can take its toll... obviously.
I'm ready for the quiet life. Bring on the books and the DVDs.
I will thank myself in the future if i start the act of youth preservation now.
Sounds like an awesome plan.

3 more days til Qatar. This Vitamin C better get to work. I'm rooting for Decolgen and Solmux. Sleep might do me some good too.

*ugh*
Take your vitamins, kids.

Trooper

Yes. I was.

The weekend is here yet again. Wow. That was fast.
The whole week seemed like it was kind of a blur... well, mostly because that's all it was, seriously.

Alcohol consumption began on Friday last week. It is now Friday again... and not one day has passed this week that i didn't have a hangover. I don't know why i subject myself to this torture over and over again. But it's something that just happens.

My liver hates me. I've said this before. Today, i feel like my entire body hates me for everything that i have put it through this week. My limbs are sore and my muscles are in pain- probably from all the dancing, the jumping, the laughing, the running, and falling down a flight of stairs. My throat is feeling a bit coarse and my immune system is shot- i now have a cold and i hate it. I am lacking severe amounts of sleep and i can't think straight.

This is my cue.

I am a trooper no more.
I'm also not 18 years old anymore. I have been doing this for a decade. Retirement should be considered to be in my very near future... no matter how much fun this can be- there's a fine line between fun and stupid.

I don't recommend this to anybody. Waking up feeling like an 18 wheeler truck just ran you over and left you for dead near a construction sight with all the drilling and the pounding and the shaking is not a good feeling.
Eating ridiculous amounts of food while highly intoxicated right before sleeping is not a good idea either, but it seems to be a very common and popular after-party ritual- anywhere in the world.

This is what happens when your friends find out that they're only on vacation for 2 weeks or you discover you have to entertain guests from another country. Playing host has never been my strong point. But welcome to the PI night life.
When school starts for them again and the guests leave the country- real talk, i'm going on full hibernation.

I would also like to extend my thanks and gratitude to the babysitters i have at home. Without them, none of this would even be possible. Thank you Mom & Dad, and Gio & Aix.
Dylan keeps telling me i should just stay home. He's very smart. =P

If you see me this weekend, don't come up to me just to say i look tired- i already know.

*


**


*head-bangin-music-lovin-vodka-drinkin-crazy-dancin-drunk
**literally, a blur.

Hi. My name is Thea...

I hate to admit it... but i'm addicted to Facebook.

Then again, if you think about it, so is everybody. haha!
What can i say, it's entertaining.
It's a good way to keep up with friends.
It's easy to stay in touch and keep up to date with what everyone is doing.
Best of all, it makes for great gossip. For some reason, people like to put all their $#!+ on blast.

I need to get off this computer before i start surfing around again. I feel like i'm on stalker status.
The world is still out there and life moves on... outside of Facebook. Or twitter. Or Myspace. Or Friendster. You get the idea.

Therapy?

NO, it's not that serious, really.
A few days to clear my head was therapy enough... and a good scare really does the trick. I don't go looking for a high and i don't go craving for alcohol either... and whaddya know? No withdrawal symptoms here.
I guess i can blame my stupidity on boredom. Yeah, there you go. In my defense, i blame all my stupidity on being bored.

Oh, another excuse- it was my birthday weekend. hahaha. Riiiiiight.

You know what would help? Some retail therapy...
I lost an earring again this weekend. I hate it when that happens.
hmmm...
What to do?

Sweet Escape

10:03pm. Friday night. I'm 3 minutes late for work. Ian decided to come out tonight. It's my birthday thing, you see. We just had dinner at my place with my whole family. It was intimate and sweet... but i had to rush getting ready for work and i left without having any cake. I didn't want to be late.
An old friend i haven't spoken to or heard from in 8 years is meeting me tonight. It should be a good night.
Another friend of mine was throwing a despedida. She gave me "a little something" as a "birthday gift". They're blue. Yeah, it was gonna be a good night.

11:30pm. I'm on. I usually play for about an hour. I've had 3 rhum-cokes already. The place isn't as packed as it was last week. I'm not feeling too hot. I think i could do a lot better. The equipment, always the equipment at this place. It messes up a few times. It's not my fault but it makes me look bad. They fixed the airconditioning, retiled the floors, bought new lights and fixed the outdoor fan... they should've bought new CDJs too, dammit. It might not seem that big of a deal... but they're just as important as those turns.

12:30am. Technically, it's STILL Friday night... but really, it's Satruday morning. I'm finally catching up with Christia (i haven't seen her in years!) and we're having s great time. We drink a bit more and knocked back a few shots. I'm sentimental. I get lost in our conversation because i love to reminisce. Hey, it's such a good night... let's make it more interesting. The "blue birthday gift" i got earlier? Yeah. Done.

1:00am. Ian's still at the club. He has work tomorrow. I have to ask him what time he's leaving... he can't stay out too late. He has to go home soon. I pull the front door open and casually walk in. I look for Ian.

Lots of people.

Couch.

Bathroom.

CD case.

Pic?

Cab.

Ian.

Sidewalk.

Bed.

8:30am, Saturday morning. For the love of Elmo, what the hell just happened?
I'm in my sleeping clothes at Ian's pad. Ian left for work already. I just heard the door shut. I think i left some important CDs in the player last night. Crap. I have work again tonight, i need those. I get up to check. My head is pounding.
What do you know? They're there. Ian must have put my things away. Aww... that's so nice.

Only he didn't. Apparently, i did. We also didn't leave at 1am. We stayed til around 3am. Yeah, i was so plastered, i don't remember a thing. That's where i start to freak out... I ALWAYS remember what i do. Being drunk is a poor excuse to do stupid things. It plays a huge part in the stupidity... but a poor excuse nonetheless.

Hi. My name is Thea... and i'm an alcoholic.
I'm not supposed to put this kind of thing on blast. But i've done some serious thinking and i want to put this out there.

In the past few weeks, i've blamed my alcohol consumption or certain drug abuse on the dilemmas that have happened in my life. YEah, when life throws a curve ball and i get high blood pressure at some point in my day, my mission is to escape on weekends and drink til i'm dillusional. It sounds idiotic. A lot of people would say it's therapeutic.

If it were every now and then, maybe therapeutic would be considered... but not every single time we hit the bar though... that's a different story. And i'm not just saying about the veteran club-goers who just drink to pass time and have fun... i'm talking about those of us who drink to forget. To escape the fact that reality is a bit tougher than we figured.
That was a lot harder to admit than i excpected.

I may be self destructing. I know for a fact that what i'm doing to myself can't be good. I've said it before, i'll say it again- my liver hates me. I wouldn't be surprised if my lungs did too... my brain wouldn't hesitate to jump in that same band wagon either.

Nobody ever said life was gonna be easy. Being given the gift to exist doesn't come with a warranty if something goes wrong. It's also not guaranteed satisfaction. Some people glide through life like pros (or so it seems), while others just can't keep up with the pace. Who's to say that you can handle whatever is thrown your way? How did it go? Right- "It wouldn't have presented itself to you if He knew you couldn't handle it".
Is it such a bad thing to try to get away from the unpleasant things that stare at you everyday?

I've formed my own little world and i haven't let anybody in. It's hard for me to do that. I'm always supposed to be okay. I'm always the one to pull through. I'm not the one that sits around and does nothing when i know there's work to be done and bills to be paid.
But nobody sees that.
Everyone is fighting a harder battle.

It's a sad realization to find it hard to be happy unless intoxicated. I refused to believe it until i woke up one morning not remembering a thing. I did it to myself for a reason... and denial is such a bitch. My worst enemy is most likely me.

I'm not being cynical. C'mon, the teenage junkie/alcoholic gag is so passe.
I'm coming clean... no pun intended.
Dependency and will power aren't as simple as they seem.

It all started with one night. Just to "get away". Stupidity can sometimes be synonymous to FUN. And the things you do in life, the choices we all make... well, they all come with a price. I'm not sticking around long enough to find out where this one could take me. I've read the articles and i've seen the documentaries. I'm not trying to prove i'm better than anyone else. I'm not trying to set some kind of record either.

I'm trying to make life better.
So much for the sweet escape.
I thought i was making life better... it took something completely idiotic to tell me that i was walking down the wrong alley.

To a certain extent, it does help. For a momement, i do escape. Everything is fine. But that's all a have- a moment. It's not permanent... well, atleast the experience isn't. The damage, however... well, that's a different story.
As human beings, we learn our greatest lessons through tragedy. Apparently, bad things have more of an impact than the good, happy stuff.
I'd much rather know that my real life is making an improvement rather than making myself "happy" a couple of times a week while i deteriorate from the inside.
Deal with it. Why should i trade in the rest of my life for a few retarded, artificial happiness moments?
I have so much to live for. I want to be around for a long time. Some people may think that this really is just nothing... I look at it as the first step to solving a problem.

Really, it's just not worth it...