I Broke My Own Heart: Confessions of a Part-time Drag Queen (1)

Dear Alcohol,1

I miss you. Please come back? We can go dancing or watch old movies or reminisce about the good old days! Al, life just isn’t the same without you. Did I do something wrong? Was it because I was too clingy? Oh, I know what it was. Danny was jealous which made me mad because I couldn’t have both you and him… So he made me have an intervention. I’m “clean” now, but I still miss all the funny things that seem to happen when we’re together, even though I can’t remember them and I have to see a video to appreciate what happens. You were good to me. You helped me through the lonely nights, the early mornings, the too-bright afternoons. You helped me through the boring times, the happy times, the neutral times, the upsetting times. Hey, remember when I got so pissed off that I cheated on Danny? Yeah, me neither. He said I had been with you. That you had worked your magic and taken over like some kind of apparition in the air. Or Tylenol. I missed out on a lot of life, Alcohol. I missed a lot of what was going on. Did you know that Lizzie is getting married? Me neither! I just found out the other day. Apparently, Danny and his sister told me right after it happened but I was too drunk to notice. They must really hate me. I know that Janet, Danny’s mom, does. She used to approve of us but when I started hitting the bottle and it started taking over, I became someone else and she doesn’t love me anymore. I’ve lost her approval. I missed out on a lot of life.2

Thanks for the fun,3

Skip4

“Hey, I’m James but everyone calls me Skip. I’m an alcoholic,” I recited when my turn came. “I’ve been clean for one year, seven months, and nineteen days. I am twenty-six years old. I started drinking when I was seventeen and I have been an addict since I was twenty-two. I have been to rehab twice, my first stint lasted two weeks, my second and last one lasted four months, thirteen days and thirteen hours. I have been incarcerated nine times and been to County five times, Juvenile Detention four times. I am still paying for all my various charges including but not limited to underage drinking, DUI, possession of illegal substances, reckless driving, theft, vandalism, and public nudity while under the influence of illegal substances. I am here today to tell you that I am a very successful employee at Stew and Baker’s, a bar restaurant place, I am in a very stable relationship with someone who loves me and is willing to help me, and I am not a rare case. Most who recover fully can have a new life. I got mine back and I hate to say that I missed out on a lot of memories. Four years is a lot of life to miss. I’m still working at this. It’s hard, I admit, but I’m here and I’m going to give it every shot I’ve got.” 5

It was the third annual Alcoholics Anonymous “Uplift Your Neighbor” Day. My sponsor, Tony, told me this would be a good experience for me since I’m new to this whole process and it would give me something to do. As I stepped off the podium and Britney, a girl who was in rehab with me the last time I was in rehab, takes the microphone, I counted the number of parole officers in the crowd. 6

There was Mr. Blakenson, my first parole officer who had a neck bigger than my torso; Mr. Josh, whose nose was larger than the rest of his face; Mrs. Appleby, whose teeth frequently sported spare pieces of broccoli or spinach (when she was my parole officer I once asked if she had any leftovers for me in her mouth. She made sure my judge, with whom I was on a first name basis by this point, knew that I was “openly insulting an officer and innocent citizen”), very fashionable; and of course Ms Judd, who had been my parole officer when I was picked up for vandalism and theft and then got to see me completely naked when I was stoned in front of Borders and she caught me as she walked out with a brand spanking new copy of one of those sex guides. The latter made for a very awkward relationship forever after.7

I tried to avoid them and it wasn’t hard, considering as soon as my feet stepped onto the grass that I wasn’t sure was real, two foreign arms scooped me up and I began spinning.8

“Oh, Skippy, I am so proud of you!” Danny, my boyfriend of five years, gushed.9

“Danny! My skirt! It’s flying up! Please put me down! All my ex-parole officers are here!” Had I known that they would be there, I wouldn’t have worn such a short skirt. I only dress in drag occasionally (well, forty-five to sixty-two percent of the time), mostly because I have great legs and I enjoy showing them off, so when I woke up that morning I decided to grab a plaid skirt. I was wearing purple tights, but still. I didn’t want my ex-officers (especially Ms Judd) to have an excuse to put something else on my record.10

“Sorry, babe. I just love it when you tell your story even though it makes you super insecure.” He put me down but wouldn’t take his hands off me. He did adjust them so that we could walk though.11

“I thought you had to work," I said, breathlessly.12

"I told Mr. Montgomery that I really had to go to this. He understands. Are you hungry or thirsty?”13

“I want pizza. Uno?” I suggested. It was my favorite pizzeria in Chicago.14

“No, silly. We’re eating here.”15

“But why?”16

“Because my mom and sister and my future in-laws are here. I don’t know if my dad’s here yet. The food here’s free and we can talk to some of our friends too.”17

I snorted as if to say “Yeah right. I don’t have any friends besides you and my sister and your brother.” I lost all my friends during my battle with alcohol. Though I have made acquaintances with my co-workers and have gone to several parties with them, I have been incapable to gain other people’s trust like I had Danny’s and Liam’s and Izzy’s.18

Apart from the stares from the more conservative gatherers, the day was fun. I had never met Lizzie’s fiance's family before and I had been preparing myself for some kind of attack. However, it appeared they had been well informed about my dying habits and my, erm, unusual dressing tendencies. They also seemed aware of my sensitivity and my complete and utter blatancy. I liked them. They were well dressed individuals with a pleasing understanding of the English language and a distinct articulation about their voices. Even though they seemed a bit uppity at first, I came to the conclusion that I could stand to see my Danny have to stand next to this Jonathon (Lizzie’s fiancé) in the spring. 19

It was after we left Chicago, when we made it two and a half hours away to Janet’s house in a little town where Lizzie also lived, when Danny and I were really able to get to the root of the problem.20

“I’m so glad you didn’t have to work today. I want to stay in your arms forever and ever and ever and ever.” We were in the steam room together and I nuzzled my face against the crook of Danny’s neck. 21

“You don’t have to leave.” He said this so quietly it sounded like an exhalation, like a sigh of an almost regrettable promise. He wasn’t over what I had done to him yet.22

“Hey, Danny?”23

“Yeah, Skippy?”24

“When I left the first time, when I went to the clinic, what happened to you?”25

“I was mad that you let it get this bad. I was mad that you stole from me to get what you wanted. I was mad that you manipulated me to give you money so you could feed your habit. But mostly I was mad that I allowed myself to let it get this bad. I could have stopped you a long time ago.”26

“No, you couldn’t.”27

“Maybe not. But I feel like I played a vital part in your alcoholism.”28

“You did. You were my primary enabler. I was honestly surprised you were there on the mornings I would stumble back home to bed. I thought you would leave me or kick me out while I was getting drunk.”29

“I thought about it, I seriously considered changing the locks. I even got a new lock kit for the door. But I couldn’t install it. I kept thinking to myself ‘Well maybe he’ll realize what is happening and he’ll get help’ but you didn’t until we made you go.” He never spoke above a whisper. That’s one thing I’ve always loved about Danny. He keeps his voice low. He never yells or raises his voice. When he’s mad, he speaks slowly, deliberately, calmly, and the volume level is regular. But when he’s mad, the words sound dangerous. When he talks about something like this and it’s just the two of us, he holds me close and puts his lips near my ear so I can feel the words as he breathes them to me.30

“What was it like for you?”31

“For me to be mad?”32

“No, for you to live with the fact that I had done all those things to you. What was it like to live with that and to not have me there when you came home from work while I was in rehab?”33

“It was so difficult I wanted to break up with you. But I kept thinking to myself that it wasn’t you that did this to me. No, it wasn’t you, Skippy James. It was your monster. That one little monster that lives right here,” he rustled my damp hair at the back of my head with one finger so that it slightly tickled me, “and jumps out and starts playing gypsy games with you. And I kept thinking that if you could just learn how to become the ring master again, you could keep your monster in check and I could have you back.”34

“I love you, you know.”35

“I know, Skippy.”36

“You want to go ride a horse?”37

“Let me get dressed,” he said and then sighed before he kissed me just as softly as he spoke. 38