26 July 2003
I go to pieces
After two weeks of up, up, UP! it was inevitable that I should crash and burn, though I really didn't expect it under this particular set of circumstances. I should have known I was in trouble when I heard myself saying "I need a drink"; I never say that. But that was about six hours ago.
Now jump ahead four hours. We were about an hour and a half into a reasonable karaoke set I kept my mouth shut, which was one of the factors contributing to its reasonableness when suddenly I was seized with the urge to throw myself at the nearest bridge abutment.
Anxiety attacks, as regular readers know, are nothing new with me. I'd managed to go for a while without upsetting the demons, but this time they would not be denied. And there's no explanation for it: the music was good, the company was upbeat, SWINTBN was as gorgeous as I've ever seen her, and yet something inside of me wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Maybe it's the knowledge that the Tour is almost over. Maybe it's the knowledge that it will be two years, maybe longer, before I see her again (if I ever see her again). Maybe it's just the fact that it had been 27 hours since my last tranquilizer. But whatever the reason, I totally lost it, and the only good thing about the experience is that not everyone got to see it.
I hope to have better news on tomorrow's Tour report. But I'm not counting on it.