It'll Never End

As mentioned in my last post, my day began at about 3 this morning. Not pleasant.

I made it through the sim lab and my group did really well. The instructors were surprised and kept saying they didn't think we would do so well because my group wasn't very interactive on Monday during the skills lab... I think it was supposed to be a compliment but it came off terribly. Whatever, we rocked it and now I'm done with that.

All day, Country Boy has been on my mind. All week, in fact. This morning, before hopping in my shower, I went back and looked at some pictures of him. A few tears fell, but I'm still too overwhelmed in my life to be able to cry much. I went through sim lab and my brain was not working. People kept talking to me and I couldn't even focus. I saw their lips moving, but I couldn't hear anything.

Last night exfiance called me 3 times... They didn't ring through, because I blocked him. However, I woke up at 1:30 a.m. wondering why my phone was lit up, but I decided to ignore it. At 3, when I woke up for sure, I saw the little symbol for voice mail. I was confused, wondering why anyone needed to leave me a voice mail so early in the morning and I panicked wondering if it was family or a friend who needed me. Nope. It was exfiance. I didn't listen to his message because I was scared he would have called me and left a voice mail while he was pretending to die or while he committed suicide just because he knew how badly Country Boy's death affected me. Sick thought process, I know, but he's done terrible things to me and he messes with my head. If you go through something like that (and I pray you never do and never have), you begin to wonder what kind of bullshit they are going to unleash on you this time.

I waited until my roommate woke up, and then I told her about it. She offered to listen to the message to screen it for me. Essentially, it said everything his 9 text messages from Easter said to me. Again, those too were blocked and I didn't get them until a day or two after Easter Sunday.

I didn't listen to the voice mail until my lunch break between simulations today. I went out to my car and listened to all 3 fucking minutes of the bullshit message. The messages (voice mail and texts) went to the effect that he has been attending the church I go to for the last month. He says he wants me to go see him at church and sit with him... He says he's changed and that I'm amazing and all this bullshit. Seriously, he told me I brought him back to the L-rd. What the fuck?!?

Honestly, I hope he did find the L-rd but I don't believe him at all. I don't believe a fucking word he uttered the entire time I've ever known him. I don't believe any of the nice things, I don't believe any of the crazy stories, I don't believe the apologies, or anything else he ever said. I don't. So, you can go pound sand fucker. Leave me the hell alone. STOP TRYING TO TALK TO ME!!!

So sick of it.

After sim was done and I was driving home, I was barely keeping the tears from falling. I was handling myself until I saw his truck. Not Country Boy's, not exfiance's... the other one. I saw exboyfriend's truck passing me on my way home. Fuckin' A. Of course, this is going to happen on one of my shittiest days. He works on the exact opposite side of town. Why the fuck is he on my way home?!?

I lost it. The tears started, my panic attack began in earnest, and my brain shut down with that last straw. It was the last straw to break my mind from how it had been dealing with all of the overwhelming nonsense I had been dealing with all day. Seeing exbf's truck is what did me in.

I got home and Roomie asked how I was doing. My chin and voice began quivering as I told her the extremely shortened and condensed version of the shit I survived today. She stood there quietly and told me she was sorry. She suggested I go climb into bed and watch a movie or take a nap. My beautifully happy and cheery roommate didn't know what to do. She doesn't know what to do when I don't even know how to handle my life circumstances. I don't blame her.

She left a few minutes later for work and her dog followed me into my room. I collapsed on my bed crying because I was finally done with the shit show that was my day. Oh my goodness, the dog flipped out! She jumped on my bed, started licking my face and acting all frantic. She licked me and tried to climb in my lap (she's 50 lbs) for a solid 10 minutes, as the tears streamed down my face. She kept making me pet her and push her from my face because she was taking away my tears. She jumped down, ran out of my room, but returned about 30 seconds later and began barking at me! She put her front two paws on my bed and started barking and whining at me in her scared bark. I pulled myself together, stopped crying and then the dog left my room. I don't know what else happened, but my eyes opened about an hour and a half later, and I didn't know where I was or what time it was. I woke up another hour and a half after that in the same condition, but laid in bed answering my 9 text messages that had accumulated, as I stared at my ceiling for an hour.

I don't know how to explain times like this, but when I have a bad enough day, I can stay in bed and stare at the wall or ceiling for hours with no thoughts going through my head. I snap out of it a couple hours later, but it only felt like 5 minutes at the most. No thoughts, no emotion, no ability to move my body. I legitimately shut down all the way and can do absolutely nothing.

Days like this, I don't even need alcohol. I know that on a day like today, drinking would simply get me stuck in the sad, terrible existence of my brain when my brain is literally refusing to think about it. My brain is overwhelmed and refusing to think about the stressors because it's unable to handle it anymore. Why would I drink and remember if I can just disappear into nothingness?



Today, everything that I needed to not happen, all happened... Today, was one of the hardest days to survive. Today, but not just today, I wished Country Boy would have taken me with him. I get mad at him for leaving me here.

I just don't want to be here anymore.

This is bullshit.

2 Year Anniversary

Today marks the 2 year anniversary of Country Boy dying. Unfortunately, with him, I get a solid three days each year that I lose my sh!t because all three are anniversaries.

#1 - the last Sunday of Spring Break (that's when he died)

#2 - March 30 (that is the actual date that was the last Sunday of Spring Break)

#3 - April 11 (his birthday, just a week and some after my birthday)

He wasn't even 19. He just needed to find enough reason to live another two weeks and he couldn't find it.

I haven't been sleeping well this last week. Last night, I fell asleep at about 9:30 p.m., woke up every couple of hours, then woke up and couldn't fall back asleep at about 3 a.m. It's now 5:45 a.m. and I still shouldn't be getting woken up by my alarm clock until about 6:30...

Yesterday afternoon (March 29), Brother took me to the cemetery. I bought a small bottle of whiskey and shared it with Country Boy. His alcohol tolerance is much better than mine, which is good because I couldn't only handle about half of the tiny bottle and he got every other swig. We went yesterday because Brother has to work until late tonight and the cemetery is creepy at night and also in a sketchy part of town. I might go back and sit with him today, but it depends on how much energy I have after a full day of sim lab for peds.

Counselor says I'm doing well. I started making a binder with all of the handouts and exercises Counselor gave me. I'm hoping that when I move, I'll remember my binder on my Bad Days. She is probably one of the strongest, most bad ass women I think I've ever met. Yet, she still told me that she couldn't imagine how hard it must be to live knowing that my attackers are on the loose. It sucks, but I'm here and kicking. I'm barely going, but I'm not doing what Country Boy did to my family and friends. As much as I would love to no longer be here, I'm not going to be a trauma to those I love or even just know.

She made me feel strong. By Counselor telling me she couldn't imagine living in my shoes, after I've heard how strong she is, it made me feel like maybe I'm dong okay. People tell me I'm strong, but it just makes me feel weak when they say that. There are the pity eyes and that tone they say it with that break me down, especially on my weak days because those are days I can hardly breathe. So, when I feel weak, and people flat out say I'm strong, I don't believe them and I assume they're lying. For some reason, having her tell me I'm handling this sh!tty life, by myself (and G-d), and I'm still finishing school and plugging along, it was a boost. (*I apologize for the structure of that last sentence, I'm typing through tears, sleep deprived, mourning again, and otherwise struggling*)

I had an interview yesterday. They said it went really well but that I have to wait for the hiring manager's boss to get back to her to make sure I can be hired. I pray the L-rd lets me know what needs to happen. It would be nice to be able to start house shopping and planning for my post-graduation future, but the move to this particular location holds a few complications... I'll keep y'all posted though!

Well, I suppose I better go get ready for sim lab. I get out late this afternoon and then I'm headed to the bar with a couple friends. I don't know how today will go. The past week has been hell, but not as bad as last year. Last year, I survived the day. This year, it is uncertain but I will survive to the best of my ability. I look like sh!t though.