My group of friends has become -- how shall we say -- unstable. When two of my good friends
left town about a week ago, they didn't really tell people when they were leaving until they were gone, making the state of everything a bit strange. They had all of their affairs in order, with someone to move into the empty bedroom of their apartment, signed over utilities, etc. They didn't have anyone signed up to take over the "leadership" of the group, however. Nobody who lives in their house now is the kind of person who'll say
"You can't act that way in here, get the fuck out" or
"Jesus dude, that stuff is bad for you." I'm don't fit the role either, because they all grew up together, and I'm sort of an
interloper who only came to the group through the people who moved away.
Lots of people are leaving: interlopers like me, but less entwined in the social group; also the couple that left themselves. New people are joining, too: the aforementioned new roommate, all of his friends, and random shady people who the couple hadn't allowed to hang around before. I get the privilege of seeing all of these great social dynamics happen in real time, meeting all of the new people, and trying to keep down with the friends I have left in the group.
At any rate, without any form of control, I've been watching everybody -- including people I thought I knew well -- act and do things that seem weirder and weirder to me, but must have just been hidden parts of their personality before. Some examples:
Smoking Crack: The night after the couple left, I went over to their house to see what was up. They hadn't told me (or anyone) when they were leaving, though, so I expected them to be there. They weren't, and instead the new roommate and the other guy who lived there, along with a few others, were collected in one bedroom doing coke. This was pretty surprising to me, as cocaine was one of the couples' pet peeves, so nobody did it before. Eventually, one of the members of the group tried to smoke the powder from a genuine crack pipe. He failed miserably, of course (powdered cocaine isn't a freebase), but it's close enough to willfully smoking crack to disturb me.
Suicide Attempt: Thirty OTC sleeping pills later, his woman finds him lying in bed covered with vomit, and calls 911. He's okay, except that his throat is all fucked -- gangrene of the epiglottis, I kid you not. He's the friend that everybody says I am just like, too, though we both disagree. He won't talk about it, not to me, or his girlfriend, or anyone, so nobody knows anything.
Playing with Guns: Jesus this was scary. One friend I've known for a while, and a couple of others I don't know. Also, the new roommate who owns not one, but two pistols, as I found out. They were all tripping on acid, too. The tripping was not unusual for the house -- the couple that moved were ravers, after all -- but doing extremely dangerous shit was always off limits before. My girlfriend and I got the hell out the moment we saw the guy's nickel plated .38, and none too soon; this kind of thing makes me want to break off contact with the group all together.
It's hard to know where to fit in all of this perceived weirdness. I don't know if I want to be part of the group any more -- I know I definitely don't want to smoke crack, commit suicide, or play with guns whilst tripping, though. I also know that if I leave I'll be abjectly lonely, save my girlfriend. It's hard, and confusing, and I wish I could just hurry up and figure out the answers so I could continue with reality...