It was four weeks ago tonight.

This probably won’t be a very good entry because I’m really not in the mood to write.

I’m still not feeling very well thanks to the combination of Truvada side effects and allergies. Luckily, I just took my third to last dose of Truvada tonight. Nearly finished with the PEP course, thank goodness.

The dizziness has returned with a vengeance. It’s now my primary side effect and it is lasting for hours at a time. Not fun at all. I’m not taking allergy medication right now due to the Truvada side effects being all I can handle, so I’m experiencing a lot of middle ear irritation. I’m wondering if inner ear = balance, if having both Eustachian tubes inflamed from allergies isn’t contributing to my dizziness.

The bar finally got back to me about viewing the surveillance footage after a couple of messages left over the course of a week and a half. The answer is: without a subpoena, no. That was disappointing. The first person I talked to there said they would pull the footage that night and have the owner call me back, but I suppose he shouldn’t have promised that. When the bar manager finally returned my calls, that little bit of unrealistic hope was crushed. It actually caused me to shed my first “real” tears over “all of this”, if only for about 90 seconds. Maybe my immature sense of fairness was hurt, or that’s the only extent of emotion I’m allowing myself because I’ve known since the beginning no one would ever be punished for what happened to me. If only I had enough sense to go directly to the E.R. that morning- if I got DNA and a positive drug screen- then the police would bother pursuing my case, but without tangible evidence, I’m just another case number with no leads and no point. I don’t know why I’m torturing myself by allowing myself to feel disappointed. “Justice” was never in the cards on this one; I’ve always known that.

I’m staying off of social media these days. It’s an irritation. The speculation and the sentimental imaginary “hugs” from odd acquaintances aren’t helping. I know that people on the outside of this think they can offer suggestions to help, or think they can suggest a new angle that I haven’t thought of, but the truth of the matter is I’m evidently a lot more knowledgeable than they are about all of it. Their sense of reality on the whole matter stems from TV shows and wishful thinking. Someone even had the audacity to suggest that since I’ve been to that bar before maybe someone targeted me because they remembered me. Jesus, that’s just the dumbest thing I’ve ever read. I know they mean well, but I decided that I really don’t need to read everyone’s dime store novel theories. Real life sometimes is just…random. I said it before: this is a crime of opportunity. I simply, stupidly, presented that opportunity.

The bar manager did say that she ejected a person that night because he was bothering the other patrons. I now think it was the guy that that girl was getting me away from- my very last memory for nine hours. If that’s the case, he was a dark, curly haired, obnoxious 22 year old kid, not that I can confirm with the surveillance footage to be sure. She also said that she didn’t think I was drugged- as I wasn’t “falling down all over the place”. From what I’ve learned since my first post, people can remain animated, walking and talking within a blackout, particularly if they have not consumed too much alcohol. From the outside, apparently, people just assumed I was drunk, no different from anyone else at the bar that night. That is so scary. In all reality, I really needed help- and no one realized it. Worst of all, as I was completely checked out in an anterograde amnesiac stupor, I certainly couldn’t have been able to let someone know that I needed help.

In other news, I get my second Hep B shot this Friday. Ick. I hope they use the small needle. The E.R. nurse claimed she was being nice to me by using the “small needle”. Maybe she says that to everyone, but her eyes got really big when she described the “big needle”, so I’m inclined to believe there’s a larger, more painful needle that generally goes with that inoculation. Not that I know anything about shots; I haven’t actually watched one go into my arm since I was 9 years old. If I want to avoid a total freak out, I have to watch the wall during the entire process and avoid seeing the needle at all costs- just a trick I finally developed after dealing with that phobia for my entire life. It beats having people sit on you while forcing you to take the shot in the ass. (Sadly, this is not an exaggeration. That…actually happened…once. Ahem.) Yeah. Fun times.

I haven’t started counseling yet. They haven’t called me so I assume that means there hasn’t been an opening in the schedule. I’m not that worried about it, but as sad as I felt this weekend regarding the surveillance footage, I’m beginning to realize that maybe I’m not as shatterproof as I initially thought. I’m still well overall, but I can see how perhaps the little things can add up over time and cause that facade to crack.

So…if anyone reading this wants to recommend some good stand up comedians, and in particular, good recent stand up comedy videos, pretty please leave your suggestions in comments. I’m running out of amusing/distracting entertainment at an alarming pace and need more post-haste. Danke.