Thursday, February 7, 2008

* 13 April 1981 Monday 3.00pm

I have not been home to my mother’s house since I last wrote. I have been very drunk; taking speed against my better judgement – even heroin. I’ve been cavorting with women - Jane M----, Carol L---- and, significantly, Cathy D----. But sex is like food for me – something is gone.

On Friday, for the first time in my life, I saw red. After finishing our gig at the Jump Club, we were required to go back on stage to fill the time quota on our contract. We did so reluctantly. I walked into the band room afterwards and lost control. I kicked in a door, ripped another half off its hinges, then punched holes in a third. I wound up in a toilet cubicle. Some guy had tried to stop me without effect. The band will have to pay for the damage.

This incident frightens me. I am not experiencing one of my more sane periods.

[We received our first record contracts on Friday.]


I had completely forgotten this before reading it back – but it doesn’t surprise me. During the months after Christine’s death, I grieved in some very strange ways, some of which I’m sure will emerge in later posts

Long after the fact, I learned that extreme promiscuity is not that unusual a reaction to the death of a lover. After losing her physically, it seemed like I wanted to kill Christine’s memory through sex.

The record contracts would have been with Missing Link.

More diaries from 1981

Stumble Upon Toolbar DiggIt!


eek said...

Extreme and unprovoked anger can also be a reaction to loss and a way of grieving too.

Sam Sejavka said...

So true, eek. And I think the diaries will reveal a few more distressing incidents down the line.