Getting busy with school starting soon. Will try and update regularly, but please don't hate if I can't!!!
Some heavy stuff in this chapter. Please don't take offense!
I had hit rock bottom officially. My mom had come to me and told me I needed to stop. She cried. I had been worrying her so much and I hadn't even noticed, my father too. While he didnt understand the anxiety, he knew how much it was affecting me, and I hadnt noticed any of this. How selfish had I been to not see any of this??? Pretty selfish. I made myself a promise, I was going to change, no matter how long it took.
First step. One night home alone consisting of four hours. I'm not one to say I've had a hard life. But that night, was one of the hardest nights of my life. I cleaned the house from top to bottom, did four loads of laundry, all the while singing at the top of my lungs. I'd begun to learn that silence was one of the worst triggers. I had saved up a bunch of my money and gone and bought myself a new Ipod and loaded it with tons of music, (mostly Disney!!!) and whenever I could you could find me blasting it until there was ringing in my ears. Now I'm well aware that that's definitely not good for you, but it was one of the few ways I could cope. Something about singing, be it good or bad, (I can't carry a tune in a bucket) was a release. Especially loudly, it made me feel like I was getting some of the tension out of my body. Every once in a while, I still felt a need to do something, almost bad. Even to this day, when I have bad awful, crappy days, I imagine myself coming home and throwing plates against a wall. It's weird I know, but the thought of it was another type of release, I've never actually done it, but thinking about it as oddly empowering. I made dinner, dessert, and even had time to do homework that wasnt due for at least a week. It was tiring and terrifying, but I did it. I did it. I'd taken the first step, although, I guess if I'm being completely honest, which I'm trying to, it truly wasnt a step. It was stopping. I'd stopped running and was confronting it like I needed to.
Step two. Dinner with friends. Another honesty moment, I hadn't left the house to do something social in over three months. Three months! Like I'd said before, I was never one for huge social situations, but I'd usually be able to find something to do about every three weeks give or take. I invited two of my friends to go to Eat N Park (we're a small town! That's what we do for fun!!! Don't judge us!!!) My one friend spent the entire dinner complaining about her younger sister, her father, and things that were happening at church. I could feel myself getting tense again. It felt like she was dealing with all these stupid little problems, while I was having a breakdown. My other friend didnt say anything, but she was playing with a band aid on her finger. I asked her what happened, becaue she's normally not the type to be clumsy. She kind of blushed and hem hawed, but eventually said she had been cooking and slipped with a kitchen knife. I laughed and teased, because I've always been the clumsy one, not her. My other friend slams her spoon down on the table, nudges me in the ribs and in a fake theatrical whisper goes 'No, she's cutting herself, she can't handle the pressures of high school and hates herself. Come on admit it!' My eyes probably got so big they could have rolled onto the table and even Smarty (That's how I'm going to refer to her from now on, because the girl is truly a genius) noticed my reaction. My stomach dropped and I felt the angriest I'd felt in years.
How could she joke about something like that? How could she not know? Houw could she not see that I was truly having a crisis. I'd never told her because she's very religious. I mean VERY religious. If I'd told her she'd have excorcised me on the spot. I often asked her how she could have such a strong faith in her religion and she replied because she believed in God. Don't get me wrong. So do I. But sometimes things happen to people that I can't always see him as a merciful being. Why would have made such wack jobs like me? Or mass murderers? One of my biggest concerns with religion lay within my family. About two years before this my uncle had been diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gherigs disease. If any of you have seen it, it's a wasting disease that takes a person slowly with no cure. You simply have to wait for them to die. My cousin was twelve when he was diagnosed. He died when she was fourteen. Fourteen. Her father was her idol and she loved him more than air itself. I asked myself after that, why would a merciful being take a girl's father away during the most tumultous time of her life??? (I'm sorry. I'm ranting and I digress.)
In those few seconds sitting in an Eat N Park booth, I learned that this was not how a friendship was supposed to be. I shouldnt have been afraid to tell her because of her reaction. If she was truly my friend she would have been one of the first people I'd told, and she'd have helped me through it. That hadn't happened. So something had to change. And it looked like it was me.
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