Worshipping the Porcelain God.

As I retched the wine into the toilet of the bar I had been drinking at, I felt surpisingly calm. That felt good. A really good purge. I wiped my mouth and looked at my watery eyes in the mirror and drunkenly reflected on my life choices. Then, deciding that the whole reason I was at the bar in the first place was to not reflect on my life choices, I quickly dismissed my dizzy thoughts and tied my now smelly hair back into a pony tail and left the room.

I had been drinking for a few hours now.

I knew that that night would be a bender. I got back from Thailand a few days ago and as my Gym Buddy described it: The coil (that is metaphorically my life) had been pulled tighter and tighter and was now released and life was flopping in all different directions with a huge amount of force that could only be calmed down with time and gravity and alcohol. A few months ago, I wound myself up and sprang from New York like a caged canary and flew across the world and lived like a traveling explorer in the Jungles of South East Asia and I thought and I thought and I reflected and the home I left changed and grew, like New York as a tendency to do, and I came back on a different wave length that the bouncing around had given me, and the tight coil of my life in New York was released and I felt as if I got the full force of that all in a few days. Make sense? Mmmm, maybe I need a drink to figure that out… or not figure it out and forget about it for a while.

I’m not a drinker. So, drinking at full throttle with a full bottle and an empty stomach and a semi-broken heart and an overwhelmed brain and jet-lag led to me yakking into the porcelain bowl within a couple hours.

Thank God. I thought. OK. I’m OK. I’ve been better. But, I’m OK.

But, what’s really the matter? What is the coil that’s swinging around? A lot of things. Standing as a principle role and as a bystander to one’s life is trippy. I get back and family, my living situation, my career, my future in New York, my sister, my job, and my boyfriend all sprang at once for attention. I was simultaneously impressed (as the bystander) with all I have created and call my identity, and as the lead role I’m experiencing: Ahhhh! I can’t handle you all at once, but I have to because I am playing the role of “Natalie” in Natalie: A Life Story. ┬áI can’t not be the star!

I feel as if I’ve gone from “I’m moving to Chicago in 6 months” to “I’m going to give up acting and just be a writer” to “I hate you and you and you” to “I love you and you and you” to “I know what I’ll do now” to “Oh my god, I feel so overwhelmed by all the choices I have that I can’t make one and I want to bury my head in the sand” All in the course of 4 days.

Welcome back from vacation, and welcome to the role of “Natalie,” the toilet’s on stage right, pillow to cry into is stage left, the self-assured grown-up you’re learning to become is staring at you in the mirror as you wipe your watery eyes and calmly wash the vomit from your mouth. Curtain Up.

June 27, 2012 at 1:11 pm by Natalie Allen