I actually have no idea how to write this post right now, or how to explain what my Saturday night became. I guess the easiest thing to do is start from the beginning and share these silly photos of us looking ridiculous before heading out to an 80s dance party fundraiser. The plan was for Mike and I to volunteer at the event early in the evening, and then make our way to The 'Stache Bash later on (an annual dance party event in our town).
Not that you really care, but the hot pink leggings are from Goodwill, the zebra hot pants are from the JCP junior's section, the black lace top is from TJ Maxx, and I'm not sure where I got the jacket (I've had it forever). Natalie is in gifted leggings, her Hatley rain boots, a TJ Maxx sweater, and is lugging my belt & her favorite stuffed gorilla around as accessories. We really are so fashionable. Mike's mustache is probably my favorite part of the whole look, really.
This part of the night was actually a blast. We staffed the door for part of the event, took tons of pictures, drank wine, danced, and generally had a great time. Things started winding down there around 9:30, and we debated about whether to just call it a night (loser alert!) or brave the next event. Since my mom was staying overnight with Natalie, we decided to be grown-ups and get to the next party. I absolutely wish we had gone with our loser instincts and just gone home and gotten into bed.
The next details of our night are what I can generally piece together in hindsight, but I don't really know how accurate they are. All I know is that we got to the venue, ordered a round of drinks, and I set my drink down to go dance while Mike ordered some food. My drink was unattended (stupid, I know) for all of 10 minutes. When Mike's food was ready, we sat down to share a sandwich and have our beverages. I got about 1/3 of my gin & tonic down before I started to feel absolutely physically terrible. I couldn't believe that the few drinks I'd had over the course of the evening could be making me feel so tingly, numb, and nauseous, but at the time I just thought I had pushed my limits and needed to get home. Fast.
Thankfully, Mike was game to call it a night, too. I truly don't know what would have happened to me if I had not been out with Mike last night. He got me home, put me in bed, and witnessed the effects of what had to be a drug slipped into my drink at the second party. I don't know how to explain the immobility, the near-paralysis, the fear, the never-ending vomiting, the complete lack of control. I have never experienced anything like it in my life. The few words I was able to form convinced Mike not to call an ambulance (probably, I should have just let him do it... a drug screen & some fluids would have been good choices), and instead we survived the night together somehow. Four hours of this nightmare later, and were finally able to fall asleep.
It wasn't until we woke up this morning and went back over the night together that we figured out what had happened to me. We both feel angry, violated, horrified, disappointed, helpless. Our minds have wandered to dark and scary places as we have imagined the different outcomes of the night, had we not been together. I am taking it very personally today that someone did something to me that could have cost my child her mother.
It hasn't yet been 24 hours since I took those sips of that drink, but already my head has to spin through questions of police reports and lab tests and security cameras. I'm not sure what my next step will be, but I'm taking the time to think it through. While also trying to rehydrate and remember the dark bits of the night that I can't quite see clearly.