Inevitable

13 years ago I ended a relationship and was sure that there was a real possibility that I was making the biggest mistake of my life.  I remember telling L the whole time I was trying to decide that I knew I would never meet another guy that loved me as much as he did but at the end of the day I was ok with that because I just needed to be free.  So I ended it with the first real boyfriend, first love, first guy I slept with... etc.

I stand by my decision.  Maybe not how I handled it exactly, but the decision.  I just wasn't the girl that could settle with the fact that I met the love of my life at 17.  And when you see my sister, who did the same thing but married him and is so happy, it seems weird but that's how we're different.  I just couldn't accept that my life adventures independently were done.  I knew I would wake up later in life and slowly resent him for never being me by myself in adulthood.  And I loved my 20's.  I loved being single, being daring, being ridiculous so many times but at the end of the day, being me and learning who me was.   

It wasn't an easy decision and at the time I couldn't articulate why I wanted to end it.  My friends will tell you it was because he couldn't keep a job, let me pay for everything and was too jealous/possessive.  These things were true to a point, but they forget the very end because I didn't point it out.  The day I left him, he had a great job and we were doing great, I just felt claustrophobic.  I couldn't explain it... I just needed out.  I broke.  I'd given him everything, except the rest of my life...

We still have mutual friends.  And everyone remembers us as the perfect couple and I'm not going to lie, we really were.  So lately my friend P who is related to his BFF's wife keeps telling me we should get back together.  We're both single so why not.  Apparently she says so to him too.  Explains why a few of the girls reach out from time to time telling me how much they miss the old days.  More recently even L who has been team me for forever has been dropping hints.  Have you hear this, or this, or how good his job is, he has a house now, he's responsible.  She never says I think you should think about giving him another chance because she knows how far that would go with me, but I hear the undertone. 

He got on Facebook last week for the first time and L was telling me all about the stalking she had done and I just have to listen and avoid.  Later that nigh around 12 I get an invite from him.  I really didn't expect it.  It's one thing for all the bystanders to reminisce about the golden couple, but for him to reach out when I literally ripped his heart out was unexpected.  I'm not a cyber stalker by nature anyway but I couldn't even look past his profile picture.  And apparently he and L talked about us both coming to a Halloween party at his house and she asked me about it today.  Luckily I have the excuse of my annual trip to DM for cousin K's party but now I realize it's only a matter of time...  Eventually I could see P and L just making a meeting happen thinking it's not big deal.

But how do I have the conversation I have avoided?  Maybe we would see each other, smile and hug and everything would be cool.  But eventually we'd have to talk about the end, right?  How do I have that conversation?  I loved you more than anything or anyone since, but I was 19 and couldn't allow that to be the end...  I needed to be free and single and crazy and independent before I could be a wife and a mother... and I'm still not sure I'm built to me those things still.  Maybe I was scared?  But I really think I just needed to be me and I'm sorry I damn near killed you in the process.   

All the King's Men

I have a hard time feeling the things I feel let alone articulating what I'm feeling to myself and others on my own.  This has always been the case and I think it's why I have always loved music.  When I was a teen I loved what my friends and family called 'angry girl music' and most of that was because I was in fact a very angry girl deep underneath.  It didn't matter that I couldn't actually relate to the lyrics of passionate love and deep heartache that dominated the genre.  I could relate to the pain and the anger.  When I hear a song and I feel like I could have written the lyrics myself though, it stays with me. 

I heard a song that I've had on my playlist for a couple weeks but today was the first day the lyrics really stuck with me.  The song is by Karmina and the chorus is "All the kings horses and all the kings men, couldn't put me back together again".  I know it was most likely written about a break up but it immediately brought me back to how I felt when I failed treatment the last time. 

I very recently made a promise to someone that I'd address this shit again.  In general everyone thinks I'm fine because I'm not skinny.  Everyone always thinks I'm fine then when the truth is that this is when you should probably be quite concerned that I'm about to spiral.  If I don't eat people notice so the bulimia is back in full force.  I would like nothing more than to start treatment again and be successful but the thought of it brings so much anxiety. 

Within 12 hours of making a promise I'm not sure I can keep, I bought 4 different diet pills online and took out my old food journal where I obsessively calculated and recorded calories a day attempting less and less each day.  I said July would be the month I began again and it automatically awakened the survival instinct of my disorder.  It's like I decided to see how much I can lose before July when I have to be held accountable to Dr. M again.  And if I've learned nothing in the past ten years, it's that I can lose a hell of a lot in 2 months. 

The person I promised, the only one who has acknowledged that they know I'm not doing good, hasn't been in my life that long.  I contemplated today just distancing myself until they were gone and then I wouldn't have to try to get better.  I've done that to plenty and I've been so guarded and cold the past year plus that I could totally pull it off but then I feel like I'm giving up and taking the easy way out. 

But the idea of treatment is scary.  I still have nightmares from the days of visits with Dr. M one night a week, another night with the current psychologist, the next with the nutritionist and the check ins with my general doctor.  There for a while we even through in a neurologist when I started getting severe cluster headaches.  It was a drain financially but it devastated me emotionally.  I shudder to think how my partner and I survived work those days (she was bipolar) with her going off the deep end anytime they altered her meds and me a huge walking ball of anxiety prone to a melt down without warning over the smallest of issues.  I wouldn't have made it without her though.  I trusted her enough to know what my treatment entailed and that helped her predict behavior.  She soon realized what to expect depending on which medical person I would be seeing that day because they each brought on a different kind of anxiety. 

With Dr. M it depended on how I really was doing because she saw through me every time.  It is why I hate her and respect her and continue to see her if I see anyone.  No bullshitting that woman and she didn't hold back from calling me out on it.  If it was psychologist day then I was usually wound tight and irritable already dreading bringing up the past and emotional pain I spent so many years burying.  The worst, though, was nutrition days.  That kind of anxiety was new last go around when I added this component for the only time.  My psychologist promised me she wouldn't put me on  a meal plan and then in session 3 she did.  So every session thereafter I failed.  I don't handle failure well and I perceive it even when I shouldn't.  That was one of the worst things I've experienced.  I tried it for as long as I could and then I just felt like I was going to explode and lose it, so I just quit.  And then I got sicker than I ever had been. 

So here I am again.  If I don't want to start cutting people out then I have to attempt tackling the ED.  I don't know which I'm more afraid of, being overwhelmed and failing treatment yet again... or that when I fail (because I feel like it's inevitable) that I'll get sicker than last time... or that I can't help but be somewhat excited with the idea of being sicker than I've ever been... 

The price of being female

One of my best friends since I moved here in middle school called me tonight crying.  This happens a lot because I've always been her rock, therapist, life coach, etc.  But tonight it wasn't about a breakup or death or hurt feeling of some sort.  Tonight I was taken back to one of the worst phone calls she ever made to me.  "I was raped." 

The first time we were 16.  She called me and made that statement and said she had to go to work and hung up.  My whole world crashed in a way.  It's so sad to say, but almost all of my closest friends have been raped at some time in their lives.  I don't openly admit it, or in my head half the time, but I was too once upon a time ago.  This was the first person I knew though and it was terrible.  How do you be there for someone?  What do you say?  How do you make it better? 

She told her parents, the first time, and they blamed her because there was drinking.  She went to the police and they non-verbally did the same.  The DA didn't take the case at all.  The friend (girl friend of the rapist) blamed her and didn't believe it.  Most of the people at school who heard about it decided she made it up.  That's the society we lived in. 

And today when she was done crying and we were able to talk, I realized it's the world we live in today too.  The only crime where the victim is put on trial.  She already blames herself because she was drinking and she feels stupid trusting her friend's husband.  I asked what she was going to do and she isn't going to go to the police and I don't blame her.  It's more trouble than it's worth to attempt to prosecute for rape. 

She's going to hopefully go to therapy.  I'll push that.  I did mention that in our state it is actually technically illegal to have sex with someone who is intoxicated.  It was a small victory for the rape crisis center and related organizations, but in practice it doesn't really help when DA's can choose not to prosecute and defenses can tear the women apart and juries can judge the woman. 

I've been asked why I think so little of men in general (it was almost innate).  Well... this is just one of the many reasons.  But women on those juries and those making judgement against anyone who outcries are just as much to blame.  My friend is not a part of the 1-2% who lie.  Since when did we decide against the 98-99%?  When a women says she was raped, she was.  The odds are more in favor of a woman saying she wasn't when she was.  Period. 

Hope is a dangerous thing

6 years ago I taught a class of 4th graders and we became a family.  Many I had taught in 2nd grade and most of the rest were my intervention students from 3rd grade.  Basically my class had the least chance of ending the year on grade level and passing the state standardized test.  They worked harder for me than they ever had and in return I invested in them more than I ever had of my personal time and more than I ever have again.  There were few weekends and nights that I didn't have a birthday party, football game, soccer game, gymnastics meet, recital, etc.  That group still considers me their favorite teacher and they all still keep in touch not only with me but with each other.   

Thursday I received an email from H, one of those students who keeps in touch often to let me know how things are going at home and at school.  She asked if she could come meet with me at school.  Those kids are all sophomores in high school this year so when I told coworkers she had news for me they all sent my anxiety up assuming she was pregnant.  The email did seem weird and it felt like something big, but she was never the type to get into a situation like that. 

So Friday afternoon I was in my boss' office and I mentioned I was nervous about the upcoming visit.  My AP walked in and said I had visitors.  I asked if it was a high school student and she said yes and what looked like her family.  Immediately my blood pressure spiked because I know her mom well and the fact that it was a family visit was not good.  My AP mentioned I might be adopting a baby after all as I walked out to meet them. 

We made small talk and caught up on the way to my office and after we sat down and they kept asking me about myself, I stopped them and asked what the news was.  H looked down for the first time and said, "Well Ms. it's not good.  M (her best friend from our class) shot herself and is the hospital but they can't remove the bullet from her brain."

I haven't felt that way since I was 15 the day my dad sat me down to tell me my friend had died in a car wreck.  Completely caught off guard with the wind knocked out of me.  I spent the rest of the meeting quietly crying but holding myself together so that I wouldn't break down.  After all if my 15 year old student could brave coming to see her favorite teacher to tell her this terrible news so I didn't have to read it in an email, the least I could do is hold it together. 

Sweet, beautiful talented M had been battling depression for at least 2 years.  Shortly after her family moved her to a small town 60 miles away, she attempted an over dose and had been in therapy.  Over the winter break it seems she found a gun at a family members home and earlier this week she waited until she was alone and shot herself in the temple. 

She survived the shot until Thursday when she crashed and had to be put on machines.  She was not brain dead though.  The worst part of the meeting was that H and her family are very Christian and H was so sure there would be a miracle.  I know crazy things happen against what science says are in the odds but the level of hope they had in the name of a miracle... That was also heartbreaking. 

M gave in and finally got her wish later that night.  Her body was intact and ready for about 100 transplants (so I was told).  There will be a memorial this week I think, and I will see all of my kids for the first time.  I thought that event would be two years from now at their graduation.  That was how it was suppose to be. 

I lost my faith that day when I was 15 in large part due to all the words people spoke thinking it made me feel better.  It's not our place to understand the greater plan of our maker. 

I'm one of the only people in M's life who actually understands where she was the day she pulled the trigger.  The hardest part is I know the level of emotional pain she was feeling and it hurts me to know that she was feeling that.  I wish so badly I could have talked to her and told her that I knew for a fact that it would get better.  It wouldn't be easy, but it would get better. 

She wasn't a teenager who was bullied or who had a terrible home life.  She was someone who had a chemical imbalance who felt too embarrassed about the stigma of depression to even admit to her best friend why she was in therapy.  There was no one she felt she could reach out to.  She was me at 15 but no one in my family ever had a gun around.