Okay, so Chelsea had some interesting things to tell me about that night.
She came back home to find me passed out on the kitchen floor. With a frying pan in one hand and some crumpled up papers in the other. Apparently the reason I can't clearly remember anything from that night was because I bludgeoned myself with the pan until I gave myself what must have been a pretty nasty concussion. She said I was bleeding lightly (for a head wound), but she was able to stop it. It kind of explains why the side of my temple has been so fucking tender lately. Thank God for her nursing training. She kept the papers, but for the most part, they're scribbles. It seems like I was trying to draw or write something, and kept scratching it out. I couldn't make anything out on the papers, but it seems I had wasted two sheets front and back with the nonsense. Then crumpled them up and held them while beating myself on the head with the pan.
Those must have been some bad hallucinations. Kind of glad I can't really recall what they were.