Good times, bad times

Last Tuesday we celebrated a day early a close friend’s birthday. We had tickets to the MUPA for a special movie screening, basically a modern jazz concert by the famous Hungarian vocalist, Veronika Harcsa. Before the concert we went to a restaurant to have dinner, and it was a great opportunity also, because our birthday friend brought her Portuguese boyfriend (whom I haven’t seen for almost 1,5 years), and he also brought a Portuguese friend so we had a lovely company. Unfortunately my tummy felt freaky so I only ordered an iced-coffee, but for my bad luck they put all the sugary cream and sugar without asking my opinion. I didn’t want to make a scene and make a deal about it, so I drank half of the glass. (I have some issues with my stomach and sugar.) Anyway, we went to a concert which first was hell but after the first 3 tracks turned out to be awesome. The music was so unbelievably beautiful and touching so when the show was over we were in a complete shock. It was only around 10 pm so we decided to go to the birthday girl’s apartment to chill and have a tea since it was freezing cold. We had so much fun there, started to share the common stories, watch the photos the guys made in Zagreb, etc. And then came a point where my tummy started to hurt again and I felt that very unpleasant pain all over. The whole ‘thing’ is getting better and better but still. Especially when you’re surrounded people and don’t want them to know. I cannot help myself so I lay down to the sofa. We were supposed to leave but I kept saying ‘a couple minutes’ when they realized there was something wrong. The birthday girl’s boyfriend is a doctor, so he started to ask questions. And randomly I started to talk. Which I never do about ‘this’ situation. Never, not even on this blog, not even with my closest friends. I still don’t know why or how it happened, despite the fact that it freaked me out that he did know the medical background of these things. So basically I didn’t have to say ‘that much’. Anyway, it was better to hear things in such informal atmosphere and from a different point of view. And I was so surprised to hear something, which I haven’t heard before, that ‘it’s okay’. I mean I always heard how bad and abnormal thing this is, but never, never that ‘it’s okay’. For a very long time this was the first time when I didn’t feel so bad and guilty. Maybe that’s the key.

On our way back home this whole conversation freaked me out a lot. I hardly got any sleep and I had an early morning class. Tuesday was great but by Wednesday I basically fell apart. The thing that someone I know knew (and by this I mean really knew) completely messed me up. Then it got worse. I felt not so great then, I mean physically too. It had probably something to do with 8-9 hours sleep in 3 days and the chaos in my head, and the test I was supposed to write that day. I kept doing so weird things all day, like walking out from two classes in the middle and such things. I just wanted to go home so I packed my stuffs and caught a bus back to my home city. But I even cried on a bus.

I’m still shocked why I was so emotional on that day. But it’s quite obvious. I also had that very first freaking out in the 11th week that this is a very long journey and I’m still very far from my goal. But I have to admit, it’s the longest I could control myself … like ever. And I didn’t run to food or the bathroom. I was so messed up but I didn’t even think about it. To tell the truth, no matter how hard that day was for me, but it might mean that even if it’s very slow, that I’m doing a huge progress. Crazy.