Out of Body

We are gathered around the familiar rectangular table with the same dice for the 800th time. We sit here mimicking every other weekend. I'm feeling no different than I did without the liquid chemicals that dull the mind. It's strange this time. I still feel the gross agitation, irritation, distance. Everyone around this table is tipsy and loud and social. I'm the same and don't want to be. I'm out of place here, just like everywhere else. I feel the numb but nothing has changed about myself. I wonder to myself in this stupid form where my old self has gone. I search my mind for where I have locked it away and find nothing. I am like Peter Pan, searching for my silhouette. It's the most important part of you you shouldn't lose. But it's gone now in the pool of emptiness that every person contributes to. It's possible that I'm becoming something I've always detested. Stress has turned me into a bitter adult and not even mead can bring that happy, carefree spirit back. I'm afraid because this has never happened before. Even if something had been bothering me, mead always had it's way of turning it into something to muse at or completely ignore. I want so much to be part of this loud gathering but I feel excluded. It's my fault because I'm prohibiting inclusion- mentally and physically. I am my own witness at this act and I can't stop myself. An out of body experience. I want to tell that person I watch from the atmosphere to stop being so foolish. I scream at her silently to return to her old self but she doesn't hear me. If I refuse to listen to myself than who can I listen to?