In the last year and a half, I have tried to open up certain aspects of my life on this blog that I don’t normally communicate in my daily life. Slowly, over time, I have found it easier and easier to discuss certain aspects of my life. Because, in truth, that is why I started this blog in the first place. I wanted a place in which I could lay bare all aspects of my life. The ordinary. The extraordinary. The mundane. The hard times. And the good. I have opened up about family. I have defined several of my friendships and what they mean to me. I have discussed how softball is an outlet for me. I have discussed things that I normally don’t put into words. But. There is one story that is yet to be written. I think I have avoided it for a long time because there are still parts of my heart that hurt when thinking about these things. But, as I have stated multiple times before when discussing difficult topics, I vowed to open up my life when I started this. And I need to honor that. Because if I cannot do that then, what’s the point? So, here it goes. This is a story of friendship and loss and situations that have helped to define the person that I am. I am not going to lie. This is a convoluted story that is broken and there is a lot to try and explain. But I will try my best. So please, just bear with me. This is a story that has defined the last four years of my life. And it is about time that it gets told.
When I first moved back to my hometown five years ago, I came with a girl that I was dating at the time. Six months into us being here, she decided to leave and go back to Arizona. I found myself lost and alone. Cindy was living in Montana at the time. JoJo and I had not reconnected our friendship yet. And I didn’t have any other people that I knew from high school that I was still friends with. So I struggled to find a new life for myself here in this place. Through softball, I met a girl that I quickly became pretty close to. She introduced me to her friends, this group of people that had been friends since middle school and were each other’s world. It is hard to put into words this group of girl’s friendships with each other. There had been failed relationships, fights, lying, cheating, and everything else in between. But yet they still clung to each other because they were all that each other knew. And so, in time, I also became a part of this group. At first I felt like somewhat of an intruder into this close knit group. But slowly, I became as much a part of the group as anyone. It was through this group of people that I met my ex. Now there was a whole situation that occurred when my ex and I first got together, I’m not even going to try and explain it because it is WAY too much. But basically, eventually, we were accepted as a couple in the group and these people became my world. We all did everything together. People would fight with other members in the group, maybe even cease talking to each other for a while. But we always came back together. Always. I am being completely honest when I say that this group of five girls became my world for three years. They were my ex’s best friends first, but in turn they also became mine. I literally didn’t have any other friends. At times the friendships were not healthy. I was put into negative environments, faced with negative emotions, but I would tell myself, what friendship is without its flaws? What mattered to me was that, at the end of the day, these people would always be by my side.
It was through one of the people in the group that I met my eventual best friend, Destiny. They were semi-dating, whatever you wanna call it, but Destiny and I became almost instantaneous best friends. She was the first person outside of this group of people that I felt close to. And I clung to that. It was a connection that I cannot quite put into words. But it existed. And she knew it too. Even after she stopped dating my friend, we continued our friendship. Then, my whole world as I knew it changed. When my ex left, I was broken. And it wasn’t even just losing her, it was the thought of losing all the friendships that had defined my life for three years. Because essentially, those people were HER friends. And I had no idea where I would now fit into the picture. Initially, they told me that they would still be there for me. That our friendship was independent of any relationship or breakup. But of course, in my heart, I knew the truth. I knew the minute that my ex left, that the life that I had known would never be the same.
Destiny and I continued our friendship. She was actually the main person there for me after the breakup. At the time, I was completely broken. I didn’t know it at the time. I only knew I was struggling to make it. But I had no idea the true extent of the damage done inside of me. But it was with Destiny that I planned that trip to San Francisco last April. It was with Destiny that I shared that night with. It was Destiny’s shears that I used to slice into my arm. And as I was laying on the floor of a hotel bathroom, covered in my own blood, struggling to maintain consciousness, it was Destiny that I called out to to tell her that something was horribly wrong. In that moment, with that decision that I made in a drunken impulsive emotional moment, I redefined my life all over again. My world again altered.
For weeks after the suicide attempt, I was in a haze. I reached out to the only friends I thought I could turn to, that original group of five girls. At first they made half-hearted attempts to be there for me and tell me everything was going to be okay. But weeks passed and they saw into the depths of what I was dealing with. For the first time, they were faced with the reality of my disorder and what it could do. They stared at my scars and saw with perfect clarity how damaged I truly was. And with that, the phone calls and texts slowly ceased. Until they were non-existent.
At the same time, it was very hard for me to look anyone in the face, let alone Destiny. Seeing what she saw, it broke her. I hurt her as much as anyone could. She had nightmares of the sight that she saw in that hotel bathroom. And I hated myself for what I had done to her. I hated myself for the decision that I had made that had hurt so many people in my life. But especially her. Because I can tell the story of what happened that night. I can describe the events to the best of my ability. I can explain what happened. But she is the only person on this earth that has her own story about what happened. And I hated myself for putting her through that.
The only person I clung to during that period was Lucina. Because she was new to my life. There was no aspect of our relationship that was stained with memories of the past. Of what I was leading up to that night. She was my fresh start. And so I clung to her and distanced myself from everything that I had known before that night. Including that group of friends. Including other friends I had. Including Destiny. Call it self-preservation. Call it shock. Call it an act of numbness. Whatever you want to define it as, I removed myself from everything I had ever known. I wanted nothing to do with the past. With what I was or what I had been. Looking back, I guess I wanted to forget everything that had ever happened and just try to start new.
Those first months were hard. Very hard. I was broken and yet trying to find life in a new relationship. I was trying to work through so many things within myself that I was lost on a path that I didn’t even know I was on. I stopped talking to people. I retreated into the shell that I had become. In some regards I know that this was a good step. I no longer talk to that group of five girls that were once everything that I knew. Well, I still talk to one of them, but our friendship has always been different from the rest. It was separate. Removed from the “group” mentality. And so she has been, from the beginning, a stable influence in my life. But the rest of them, I have no contact. And I have come to be okay with that. Because they weren’t good for me. But, my one regret in all of this is the loss of my friendship with Destiny. Ugh. This is so hard to define because I really have no explanation for my actions. I don’t truly know why I distanced myself from everyone. I don’t know why I pushed people away. I don’t know why I created an environment in which I pushed my friends away when the last thing I wanted to be was alone. I don’t know. I have no answers. The truth and reality is that I don’t know much of what I was in those initial months after the suicide attempt. I still struggle to define the person that I am. Or the person that I want to be. But I do know that I regret pushing away the person that saved me. The person that shares my darkest place with me. The person that lived in my worst moment with me. That believed for a moment in time that she had lost me.
I don’t know. Maybe one day I will be given a chance to make up for those past mistakes. Maybe the world will continue to unravel how it was meant to. I still believe that the world has a plan. Even if we are not privy to the information. And maybe this was all for something. I lost friendships that once meant the world to me. I lost people from my life that once held my trust and confidence. The people that told me they would never leave, left. This is the reason this story is so hard to tell. I can sit here and lie and say that I am no longer affected. That I am better off. But it is just that, a lie. This story in the saga of my life has broken me. Made me judge my friendships even more. Made me more hesitant to open up or put more trust into people. For three years I was defined by the existence of a friendship. And for the last nine months I have been defined by the absence of it. I feel it every time a song comes on that we once shared. Or I pass a stretch of road in which we once took a nighttime drive to clear our minds. Or random moments of our past will come to mind and I’ll remember events that once brought me happiness. But it is all different now. Everything is different. And I don’t know if I will ever be able to get back what once was. It is like I am two different people. What I was before the suicide attempt and what I am now. I am just as lost. Just as broken. Still struggling to find some semblance of normality in a life of internal darkness. But there were aspects of my previous life that I want to mold into what I now am. But I don’t know how. I don’t know how to bring the best aspects of me back together. Or to get back what was lost in that hotel bathroom in San Francisco. I lost so much in that one moment. And it kills me to know that I forever altered my life because of it. I have different “goodness” in my life now. But there are still things that I miss. That I have lost along the way during this journey I have been on. And I don’t think anyone has the answer as to whether you can ever get those things back. I hope one day I can find a way. That I will not be forever lost.