Raised in the Era of Heroes and Cons
RESTLESS HEART SYNDROME
I was really starting to freak out about Jimmy thinking that Gloria still had the kid. But I couldn't tell him, no matter how much I wanted to. But I was really starting to feel insecure and anxious about it. Jimmy was asleep and it would be rude to wake him, but I needed to do something.
And the urge to drink was getting really, really intense.
Instead I started smoking while drinking a cup of coffee. Maybe that would work. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
It didn't.
So I cooked large batches of anything I could think of. Pasta. Cookies. Brownies. Rib roast. Soup. Stew. Bread. Latches. Chicken.
I'd be living off left-overs for weeks.
Around two in the morning I gave in.
It started with a bottle of the white wine I keep for cooking. Then the red wine I kept specifically for Gloria when she came over. After that I was out so I made a run to the liquor store. I came home with about three different bottles of brandy, two bottles of vodka, and one of whiskey.
By the time I was done with one of the bottles of vodka and one of the brandies, I was practically sobbing.
What if Jimmy found out I was hiding this from him? What if he got mad? What if Gloria thought I had told him and got mad? What if they both got so fucking mad and then got mad at each other and then refused to talk to each other ever again? And it was all my fault.
I sobbed and drank all night.
The next morning, Jimmy found me leaning on the couch with the bottle of whiskey held firmly in my hand.
Obviously he was upset. He clearly saw the bottles strewn across the floor. His eyes narrowed in on the one in my hand. He shook his head and walked over to me and held his hand out for the bottle.
"Tunny, give it to me."
I squinted at him, but all I saw was a blur.
"No, fuck you."
"Tunny, please."
"Get your own."
He sighed and reached for it, but I whipped it away.
"Tunny, you were sober for so long. What's going on?"
"What, I can't have a little drink once in a while?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't call this drink little."
"Fuck you."
He kneeled down in front of me and carefully placed his hands on the bottle. I glared at him. What the hell did he want with my fucking whiskey?
"Tunny, I"m going to take this and put in on a shelf. Then I'm going to get you a glass of water and something to eat. Okay?"
"The whiskey is fucking mine."
"Fine then, hold on to the bottle, and I"ll get you some bread and water and we can talk."
I ripped the bottle away from his hands and took a defiant gulp. He just stared at me for a moment, then shook his head and stood up. I tried to get up and follow him, but I couldn't move my legs properly. So instead I just stayed there, head sawing from side to side without my control.
Jimmy stayed true to his word and came back a minute or two later with a plate of bread and a tall glass of water. I glanced at the plate as he held it out to me then back at him.
"You used my good bread," I whined.
"What?"
"That's the bread that Gloria brought me from France."
"Well excuse me, but it's not like you just had a loaf of Wonderbread just lying around, Mr. I-Refuse-To-Have-Anything-But-The-Best-In-My-Kitchen."
"Fuck off."
"Eat the bread."
"No."
"Eat it."
"No!"
Jimmy put down the glass of water he was holding and flicked my forehead.
"What the hell!?"
"Eat the damn bread, Christian! You're acting like a five-year-old!"
"Fine!" I snatched a slice off the plate and shoved it in my mouth. "Haphinaoh?"
"Chew, swallow, drink some water, and then I'll be happy."
"Finmistahimatinese."
It took a minute or two for me to choke the thing down, but eventually it made its way into my stomach. I took a long drink from the glass Jimmy held out to me and glared at him.
"Good." He sat down across from me and held out his hand. "Now give me the bottle."
I looked at him then at the bottle in my hand then back to him then back to my hand then back to him. Finally I shoved the bottle into his hand and he stood up. I watched him go back towards the kitchen and realized half a second too late what he was going to do. I managed to stand up and stumble after him, but by the time I got there he was pouring the last of the bottle down my stainless-steel sink.
"Why would you do that!? That was good whiskey! You don't waste good-"
I retched. Then again. And a third time. Then I turned and puked into the sink. Jimmy just stood there and watched silently as the contents of my stomach emptied into the sink where I wash my vegetables and fruits. Finally I sank to the floor, gripping my stomach. He left the room and came back seconds later with my glass of water.
I took it from him with a shaking hand and he squatted across from me with a concerned look in his eyes.
"Tunny, please, tell me what's going on. Why would you just suddenly decide to ruin all those years of being sober and just binge for what looks like hours?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"You'll be mad at me." I curled my knees into my chest and looked away from him.
"Why would I be mad-"
"You'll yell."
"Tunny, I promise-"
"I've kept it inside for so long. I can't just let it go now. You can't know. It hurts too much."
"Tunny, I promise that I won't be mad."
"You promise?"
"Yes."
"What about yelling?"
"I promise I won't yell either."
"But you'll be so mad."
"Hey, didn't I just promise I wouldn't be mad?"
I looked at him. He was smiling softly, smiling that stupid, encouraging smile I used to love so much. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want to break him. I wanted him to stay ignorant and happy and content.
"I paid for the abortion."
I said it so quietly, for a moment I thought he didn't hear me. I was almost praying that he didn't hear me.
"What abortion?"
"Her abortion."
"What-"
"I paid for her abortion and I"m sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."
He just stared at me for a minute, eyes wide, taking in what I had just said. Then he stood, staring at me as I tried to press my legs closer to my chest, waiting for the impact. The minutes that we stayed like that seemed to stretch into hours and I could feel my sobriety slowly coming back and twisting underneath the haze and fog, trying to lift it from my brain.
And finally the shock turned into pain. Then the pain turned into the anger I had been waiting for.
"You son of a-"
I've got a really bad disease
It's got me begging on my hands and knees
.................Take me to the EMERGENCY
'Cause something seems to be missing
Somebody take the pain away
It's like an ulcer BLEEDING IN MY BRAIN
.................Send me to the PHARMACY
So I can lose my memory
I'm elated
Medicated
Lord knows I tried to find a way to run away
...................I think they found another cure
...................For broken hearts and feeling insecure
...................You'd be surprised what I endure
...................What makes you feel so self-assured
...................I need to find a place to hide
You never know what could be waiting outside
The accidents that you could find
It's like some kind of suicide
...................So what ails you is what impales you
I feel like I've been crucified to be satisfied
.....................................I'M ELATED
.....................................MEDICATED
....................I AM MY OWN WORST ENEMY
....................So what ails you is what impales you
....................You are your own worst enemy
.....................................You're a victim o the system
....................I'm a victim of my symptom
I am my own worst enemy
....................You're a victim of your symptom
....................You are your own worst enemy
....................KNOW YOUR ENEMY
And the urge to drink was getting really, really intense.
Instead I started smoking while drinking a cup of coffee. Maybe that would work. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
It didn't.
So I cooked large batches of anything I could think of. Pasta. Cookies. Brownies. Rib roast. Soup. Stew. Bread. Latches. Chicken.
I'd be living off left-overs for weeks.
Around two in the morning I gave in.
It started with a bottle of the white wine I keep for cooking. Then the red wine I kept specifically for Gloria when she came over. After that I was out so I made a run to the liquor store. I came home with about three different bottles of brandy, two bottles of vodka, and one of whiskey.
By the time I was done with one of the bottles of vodka and one of the brandies, I was practically sobbing.
What if Jimmy found out I was hiding this from him? What if he got mad? What if Gloria thought I had told him and got mad? What if they both got so fucking mad and then got mad at each other and then refused to talk to each other ever again? And it was all my fault.
I sobbed and drank all night.
The next morning, Jimmy found me leaning on the couch with the bottle of whiskey held firmly in my hand.
Obviously he was upset. He clearly saw the bottles strewn across the floor. His eyes narrowed in on the one in my hand. He shook his head and walked over to me and held his hand out for the bottle.
"Tunny, give it to me."
I squinted at him, but all I saw was a blur.
"No, fuck you."
"Tunny, please."
"Get your own."
He sighed and reached for it, but I whipped it away.
"Tunny, you were sober for so long. What's going on?"
"What, I can't have a little drink once in a while?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't call this drink little."
"Fuck you."
He kneeled down in front of me and carefully placed his hands on the bottle. I glared at him. What the hell did he want with my fucking whiskey?
"Tunny, I"m going to take this and put in on a shelf. Then I'm going to get you a glass of water and something to eat. Okay?"
"The whiskey is fucking mine."
"Fine then, hold on to the bottle, and I"ll get you some bread and water and we can talk."
I ripped the bottle away from his hands and took a defiant gulp. He just stared at me for a moment, then shook his head and stood up. I tried to get up and follow him, but I couldn't move my legs properly. So instead I just stayed there, head sawing from side to side without my control.
Jimmy stayed true to his word and came back a minute or two later with a plate of bread and a tall glass of water. I glanced at the plate as he held it out to me then back at him.
"You used my good bread," I whined.
"What?"
"That's the bread that Gloria brought me from France."
"Well excuse me, but it's not like you just had a loaf of Wonderbread just lying around, Mr. I-Refuse-To-Have-Anything-But-The-Best-In-My-Kitchen."
"Fuck off."
"Eat the bread."
"No."
"Eat it."
"No!"
Jimmy put down the glass of water he was holding and flicked my forehead.
"What the hell!?"
"Eat the damn bread, Christian! You're acting like a five-year-old!"
"Fine!" I snatched a slice off the plate and shoved it in my mouth. "Haphinaoh?"
"Chew, swallow, drink some water, and then I'll be happy."
"Finmistahimatinese."
It took a minute or two for me to choke the thing down, but eventually it made its way into my stomach. I took a long drink from the glass Jimmy held out to me and glared at him.
"Good." He sat down across from me and held out his hand. "Now give me the bottle."
I looked at him then at the bottle in my hand then back to him then back to my hand then back to him. Finally I shoved the bottle into his hand and he stood up. I watched him go back towards the kitchen and realized half a second too late what he was going to do. I managed to stand up and stumble after him, but by the time I got there he was pouring the last of the bottle down my stainless-steel sink.
"Why would you do that!? That was good whiskey! You don't waste good-"
I retched. Then again. And a third time. Then I turned and puked into the sink. Jimmy just stood there and watched silently as the contents of my stomach emptied into the sink where I wash my vegetables and fruits. Finally I sank to the floor, gripping my stomach. He left the room and came back seconds later with my glass of water.
I took it from him with a shaking hand and he squatted across from me with a concerned look in his eyes.
"Tunny, please, tell me what's going on. Why would you just suddenly decide to ruin all those years of being sober and just binge for what looks like hours?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"You'll be mad at me." I curled my knees into my chest and looked away from him.
"Why would I be mad-"
"You'll yell."
"Tunny, I promise-"
"I've kept it inside for so long. I can't just let it go now. You can't know. It hurts too much."
"Tunny, I promise that I won't be mad."
"You promise?"
"Yes."
"What about yelling?"
"I promise I won't yell either."
"But you'll be so mad."
"Hey, didn't I just promise I wouldn't be mad?"
I looked at him. He was smiling softly, smiling that stupid, encouraging smile I used to love so much. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want to break him. I wanted him to stay ignorant and happy and content.
"I paid for the abortion."
I said it so quietly, for a moment I thought he didn't hear me. I was almost praying that he didn't hear me.
"What abortion?"
"Her abortion."
"What-"
"I paid for her abortion and I"m sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."
He just stared at me for a minute, eyes wide, taking in what I had just said. Then he stood, staring at me as I tried to press my legs closer to my chest, waiting for the impact. The minutes that we stayed like that seemed to stretch into hours and I could feel my sobriety slowly coming back and twisting underneath the haze and fog, trying to lift it from my brain.
And finally the shock turned into pain. Then the pain turned into the anger I had been waiting for.
"You son of a-"
I've got a really bad disease
It's got me begging on my hands and knees
.................Take me to the EMERGENCY
'Cause something seems to be missing
Somebody take the pain away
It's like an ulcer BLEEDING IN MY BRAIN
.................Send me to the PHARMACY
So I can lose my memory
I'm elated
Medicated
Lord knows I tried to find a way to run away
...................I think they found another cure
...................For broken hearts and feeling insecure
...................You'd be surprised what I endure
...................What makes you feel so self-assured
...................I need to find a place to hide
You never know what could be waiting outside
The accidents that you could find
It's like some kind of suicide
...................So what ails you is what impales you
I feel like I've been crucified to be satisfied
.....................................I'M ELATED
.....................................MEDICATED
....................I AM MY OWN WORST ENEMY
....................So what ails you is what impales you
....................You are your own worst enemy
.....................................You're a victim o the system
....................I'm a victim of my symptom
I am my own worst enemy
....................You're a victim of your symptom
....................You are your own worst enemy
....................KNOW YOUR ENEMY