Feeling raw and exposed

As you can clearly see from my blog and my Twitter posts, I'm a regular drinker. Usually I drink socially, in celebration of an event, or for other upbeat, positive reasons. When I get inebriated, I'm usually a happy, flirtatious, outgoing person.

Last night, I was drinking for the wrong reason, and I feel I owe an apology and an explanation. I was drinking because I was in a bad mood, and while I had no intention to become completely sloshed, it happened anyway. That's usually not a good combination.

Yesterday was rough. There are rumors going around of what is going to happen in the upcoming months. Some things are obvious: we're preparing to strike at the Lich King in Icecrown. Being Harvest Festival when we are honoring our fallen heroes, it's impossible to face the fact that we're going to war and many people will not be returning home.

But there are also rumors--prophecies of what will happen at Icecrown and beyond. Some of the oracles who have had these visions are more trustworthy than others, but what they report is disturbing beyond words.

Thrall will take his leave as leader of the Horde. Some say he will have a Wrynn-like experience where he is kidnapped and found suffering amnesia. But even after his identity is revealed, he won't be coming back as leader of the Horde.

Garrosh will be taking his place, and one of his moves will be against Cairne Bloodhoof...possibly even leading to Cairne's assassination.

The Trolls, Forsaken, and my own people will be removed from the center of Orgrimmar. While I know we can handle ourselves on the other continent in the Eastern Kingdoms, what does this mean of Vol'jin? Will he and his people get their lands back? Will they go willingly? Or, after having been Thrall's right-hand-man for so long, will VJ be exiled away? How will he take it?

And Sylvanas.... Fighting in Icecrown will happen. I know her. I know she'll want to be there. If she cannot make the killing blow herself, she will want to be present when the Lich King falls. This makes me worry, as she has an attitude of "He will die. And if I die, I will take him with me." She is that determined. Some prophets are predicting she won't return.

I know...so much of this is rumor, supposition, and possibly simply the hallucinations of madmen. There have been no predictions as to what will happen to me, but at this point I don't care. When people predict all your friends will be dead or missing, the world suddenly feels very scary and very very lonely.

If I wasn't feeling bitter enough, I accidentally said some things to the Boss Lady and triggered her own melancholy. She disappeared for the most part of the day, allegedly lamenting her death and the fall of Quel'Thalas. I know she takes it as a "failure" and that eats at her every day. But if I hadn't...no, Dar'Khan would have conned someone else, but even still...

Sylvie, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have happened in the first place. I'm so sorry.

So I did what any man could do with his bitterness and guilt and anger and despair: I bottled it up, went to Winterspring with Lady Dawnrise and her friend, and took out my frustrations in a killing spree of hostile beings. If I couldn't protect my home or people, and can't protect my friends in the future, at least for now, I could protect a few who are so dear to me.

The excursion helped. The emotional aspect of those memories were vented in physical activity. The memories pushed back down and re-bottled as I reveled in the here-and-now. But it was a fragile suppression, as I returned home to many frantic notes and messengers about the Dark Lady missing without a trace. She returned about the same time I did, and we reassured everyone she could take care of herself. She and I spoke a little. And she said to me, "I think all this talk of the future has had a sobering effect on all of us, even someone as cranky as @blightcaller."

Sobering effect. At that point, that was the last thing I wanted. So I sent a message to Thrall I would be in Orgrimmar soon. Brewfest was still going on, and I needed a drink or ten.

Mind you, I had no intention of getting as smashed as I did, but as soon as I arrived a large platoon of Dark Iron Dwarves showed up too. Instinct struck as I saw them kicking festival goers out of the way, and I had to protect them. But my weapons did little good against them. It hurt to watch this invasion and feel so helpless...again.

Then an orc at Drohn's Distillery, pushed a stein in my hand and said, "Liquid courage." I watched as he chugged his drink and threw the mug at an approaching dwarf, striking the dwarf squarely on the head and knocking it out. I followed suit, rapidly chugging and flinging as mugs of various brews were continuously put into my hands.

It was over in minutes, but it felt like hours. And by the time I reconnected with my friends, I was sloshed. At least I had a victory I could claim, but...no one else had been there. No one else could celebrate with me. No one else would, as they all had their reasons to remain sober for the night. I don't even know if Thrall showed up. He probably got side-tracked by another emergency.

I was trying to protect them...

So much for suppressing those feelings through some social interaction and drinking just enough to relax. Instead, all those emotions from before were magnified.

Even worse, the Prophet Velen showed up and saw me in this state. Great. Admittedly, in my inebriated state, I mistook some of his comments for veiled insults and lashed out in kind. I felt isolated at that point, and hyper-sensitive to disapproval of my behavior in public. It was not my best moment.

Luisette, may the Well bless her, escorted me home and took care of me in ways she has become very skilled. She complained this morning of lower back pain, and Sylvanas suggested it might have occurred to something she did to me overnight. Perhaps. Or perhaps it was from when I woke up in the middle of the night, practically crushing her against me, my tears slipping into her hair. I had been dreaming of losing my friends, and could not bear losing another. Not her.

Perhaps I should be relieved that she was still there in the morning. Perhaps I should be relieved my friends and fellow leaders were still around too. Hangover aside, I still feel bitter. Bitter and angry and apprehensive. I am worried for my friends, and worried what it could all mean for my people. I know that I have been ranked as #6 on the "Better Warchief than Garrosh Hellscream" list, with Hogger edging me down from the other present-day leaders (and Saurfang). I don't care. I wouldn't want the job.

Under normal circumstances, elves live long lives. I just want to know that I have many more years left where I will be able to drink and laugh and enjoy the company of my friends.

At this moment I'm grasping desperately for any reason to relax and laugh at all.