So here I am. Right before thanksgiving 2013, I’m back in my grandparents home, recovering from the stab wound that was inflicted on me. I kept saying “it’ll be better. I’ll be fine. I don’t need him.” I was alone.
I’ve always had a hard time making friends. I think I’m fun to hang out with. I believe myself to be loyal. But it was just never easy. I reached out to a few people I had worked with in the past. One being one of my best friends today. *Avery is another person who did her best to help me. I reached out and she accepted my offer to hang out.
December the depression and the weight just crashed on me like an elephant sitting on my chest. I went from “I’m woman, hear me roar” to “what did I do wrong?”
I’m outside this shitty, dive bar one night. I’ve had too much to drink and it’s freezing. I’m sitting outside on the pavement, smoking a cigarette, sobering up before I even thought about getting behind the wheel of my car. I’m a lightweight because alcohol and me don’t get along very well, so it is rare I’m a hot drunk mess. This pig comes up trying to pick me up and I just broke. I obviously said not so nice things and he walked away. I was at the moment, done with being nice and giving everything to someone. It was my time to do whatever the hell I wanted.
I’ve had two serious boyfriends in my life, both back to back both ending in decent and lies. I wanted to fill a void. So I did. With alcohol, meaningless relationships and I had stopped eating. I went from 159 lbs to 107 lbs in 6 months. I nearly lost my job as a nurses assistant because I was calling out all the time. I just couldn’t face reality. I didn’t want to. I was embarrassed I had let this happen to me. I hated that I was 23, dead broke, no degree and I lived at home. I had nothing left.
To add insult to injury, I kept Travis on my Facebook. I watched as he got engaged in no time flat. I saw his life filled with joy as I’m slowly dying. Karma is a bitch and she’s not messing around. I deleted him off all my accounts.
In March 2014, I was accepted into the nursing program I had worked so hard for. I was happy but I wasn’t. I was still sad. In June, I went to NJ for two weeks. I slept my days on the beach, walked the boardwalk. I brought myself to all the old spots I went to as a troubled kid. I really thought about my life for those two weeks.
When I got back, I had one last hoorah with my past. I’m in uptown on this particular evening. I’m drunk. I’m watching the city lights. Thinking. “I’m 107lbs. I’m dying. I can’t die. I have to go to nursing school. I have to make grandma and grandpa proud.” I looked at the person next to me and said goodbye with a side smile and a light holding of the hand.
I never saw them again.
I got better. I got healthy. I started eating. I saw the doctors. I followed my regimens. I learned to love who I was again. I discovered a hell of a lot too. I was never blameless in both relationships. I did some wrongs. The important thing is, I learned from them.
At 23 years old, I had three friends, *Anna & *Kurt (from childhood) and *Avery. At 26 years old, it is still those same three. I don’t have many friends. I have three who have stood by me in every situation good or bad for over 10 years.
I consider myself the luckiest person to have them.
>Ben is now married and is expecting his first child. I haven’t seen him in years, but I hear threw the grapevine. Small town life never leaves you.
>Travis is now a father. I honestly don’t know where he ended up. But if I learned anything, I hope he finds or has happiness. I would never wish bad upon him. He did help shape me into the person I am.