Hitting Rock Bottom

I am so tired this morning. I have been at the theater 7 days straight and today will be the 9th. One more show this afternoon and we get to take a break. Hooray. I am so far behind on everything.

Went to bed last night and our new baby wet the bed the minute we lied down. That was enough to wake us up for another hour.

Yard sales sucked this weekend. Why do people have yard sales when they only have trash to sell? Recycle people!

My Life: With the few items I had packed I started to set a plan in motion. Across the street from where we lived was a small wooded area so I thought I would go hide in the trees and drink myself into a drunken stupor. Then I thought of the bugs and the hard ground.

I finally decided I was running away from home and would just stick my thumb out and go where it takes me. I would leave my car behind and my boy Stryker. I didn't care about the eBay business, the house, or Ken. Hell, I didn't care about me anymore either.

Like a traveling hobo, I stuck out thumb at the first freeway entrance and got a ride within ten minutes. The guy was going to DC and he would drop me off there. Once there I wandered the streets for a bit. I was trying to make a plan in my head but nothing was coming together. I walked to the train station to check out the cost of tickets to Vegas or anywhere else. I was shocked at the prices and I didn't want to spend that much money right away. I needed a plan first.

I then walked to the YMCA in DC so I could get some rest. It was something like 12.00 for the day and you could stay for 8 hours. I layed around and sat around to hatch things out in my head. One thing kept coming up...I hated being alive. I left the Y once it started to get dark.

My next stop was the strip of gay bars I was familiar with. There was a somewhat cheap hotel near by so I rented a room. I left my stuff in the room and went in search of my knight in shinning armour who would take me away from everything and make me happy again. I spent a couple of hours drinking in the bars and no one paid any attention to me. I felt old and ugly. Most gay men are not turned on by men over 40. It's really sad that people can be so superficial. So that night I stayed by myself in the cheap room.

The next day came and I wandered the city like a homeless person. No one pays attention to homeless people and it was like I lived in a world where I was some kind of monster. Other homeless guys would bum cigarettes from me. I gave packs away at a time. My next plan was to do the same thing I did the night before but make it work. I rented a nicer hotel room, cleaned up and didn't drink until much later in the night. 2 AM came and I was alone again. A young man on the street started asking me a bunch of questions so I invited him to my room. I prefer men over 35 and he was not my type at all. We talked a little and did some drinking and drugs and then fell asleep. He was gone the next morning. He used me for what he could get from me.

I was so tired and so bummed out. I had no ego left. I hated myself, I hated Ken, I hated everyone. It was time to change my plan. I stuck out my thumb to get out of the city. Nothing. 2 hours later...nothing. I gave up.

I found my credit card in my bag and went to one of the nicest hotels I could find. I rented a room. It was beautiful and I decided It was going to be the place where I would spend the last minutes of life. I layed everything out. Vodka, pills, cigarettes, and fluffed my pillow and turned on the TV.

I contemplated about leaving a note and decided against it. I so didn't care anymore. My family never came to visit me, My lover hated me, I hated me. Life sucked. I knew Stryker would be ok since Jim was taking care of him. I plopped in front of the TV and watched for hours while drinking vodka and chain smoked. when i finally starting getting to the point where I was feeling tipsy, I took the bottle of sleeping pills and downed the entire contents. Someone would find me dead the next day since I only paid for one night. The last thing I remember was watching "Survivor" on TV. I fell asleep like Marilyn Monroe...

Love & Peace,

Clayton