reflecting light, absorbing darkness

this is way too fucking personal to post on a computer, but i'm a fucking nit, so shall.
the debauchery of the last 2 months hit me with a wallop last night. i did mushrooms for the first time. it was a very interesting experience, a disconcerting fluctuation from ecstacy to bereftness, jitters to melt. i was sweating and tearing and salivating and having to urinate every 20 minutes. i never lost clarity of what i was and what the drug was doing to my mind- a very pleasurable facet of this particular high, much like acid. but then: we took a polaroid of ourselves and i looked fucking terrified in it. it was one of the most frightening things i've ever seen. to see fear in anyone's eyes, much less my own, is horrible enough. and my mood crashed. i became completely withdrawn. i was sitting on my knees on my floofy rug, staring at the seattle view, of the cars on i-5 zipping past like manic red ants, and i started to cry. i suddenly saw myself as a very lonely, silly girl... and as someone who is trying to reclaim an irresponsible youth that she has no place in. i was a sweaty fucking woman on yet another drug, with a second pending divorce, a chronic (however latent) disease, neuroses up the wazoo, and an oblivious 20-year-old BOY sprawled on my couch humming some stupid indie-rock song. what the fuck had happened to me? how can i feel so immature and so fucking irreversibly OLD all at once?
*
clarity, however artificially attained, is a bitch.
*
i ended up going for a walk, alone, at one a.m., sober. it was cold and windy. i walked quickly, enjoying the feel of my body moving, the air hitting my skin, the unbelievably lovely views from my neighborhood. the streets were lined with huge chestnut and maple trees, the sidewalk thick with leaves, windows of stately homes dark, clusters of pumpkins on front porches. i thought "this is who i am, this is when i am most pure: alone, ambulatory, appreciative." it is always therapeutic, meditative even, to hear the sound of my own breathing. i returned to my lair fairly reluctantly, knowing that he was upstairs (in the same bed, clothed). all i wanted was to be alone. i lay on the rug and played with the cat. the apartment building next door was having a very raucous halloween party. shrill laughter interrupted the sound of the wind.
in the morning, grey and cold, we left for me to go to work and drop him off en route, only to find that the place i'd ended up parking last night due to the party-clogging lack of options had gotten my car towed. there is a very specific feeling of desperation when looking at the empty spot where one's car is supposed to be. 2 bus rides, prolonged ass-freezing, a very fucking bad mood and $260 later, i rescued Pink from the barbed-wire cage in the sphincter of south seattle. i was only 45 minutes late to work.
i feel like i am fucking rudderless. i always feel fairly discombobulated and without purpose, but everything gelled in my mind a bit too fucking blatantly last night. i suppose i was simply, finally aware of what i already know.