As I stated in yesterday’s post, I lost myself in November. This is an account as to how and why.
WARNING! This post has no visual aid and very little wittiness. Also, it’s a long read. Just an FYI.
I spent the final week of last October treading a tightrope over a canyon sporting spear-like rocks in it’s recesses. Something about the breakup with Gabbie kept crippling me emotionally. I don’t know why, even to this day, but I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was two weeks removed from the Breakup With Gabbie* (yes, italicized for a reason), and one week removed from the Separation From Gabbie** (also italicized for a reason). I could feel myself beginning to tremble as my dreams became flooded with images and metaphors of my life after high school graduation and the constant realization that I was alone, with no bridges to cross and no resources.
I was on an island.
*Breakup With Gabbie – The actual breakup that resulted in a spontaneous road-trip for her and Mica (the roommate) to San Antonio, where they boozed and partied with friends of Mica’s. Vicious phone calls and unapologetic text messages ensued for nearly two days. Pretty constantly, to be honest. The morning she was to return home, in an effort to prove I would “still do anything for her” and show her that I wanted her back, I walked all the way from southwest Lewisville to Addison — over 7 hours of walking in wet, cold weather, coughing up blood, feeling my shoes remove the bottoms of my feet, and injuring my knee halfway through the journey — only to be shot down and rejected.
*Separation From Gabbie – After the previous events, I returned to the apartment to live with her and prove to her that we made a mistake breaking up. That seven days ended with her bailing her ex-boyfriend out of a pinch with his drug buddies, bringing him to the apartment against my wishes, and yours truly getting hammered, getting sick, and passing out in the bathroom. I woke up to her and her ex-boyfriend asleep with each other in the living room. My worst freak-out against a significant other ensued.
As I said, I was on an island.
The week dragged – miserably – and I had no one at my disposal for support, even when Gabbie showed up to drop off some of my things from the apartment. She was dolled up – perfect makeup, hair extensions, and a very revealing dress.
It was for her ex-boyfriend who had obtained current boyfriend status again…
The Events of Halloween Night
Five days or so after the revelation, I had to take an undesired trip to another location of my employer against my will. The “terms and conditions” were laid down to aid me in my trip, leaving me with practically no money. So, I returned home, then promptly left again.
Then, got high.
After almost two years of being clean, I fell from the wagon, handing cash over to some guy dressed up as Nero for several amphetamine pills. I promptly tossed the entirety of my indulgence into my mouth and washed it down with the entirety of a Coors Light can. I had one more beer in the same manner about ninety seconds later, then proceeded to leave the house, venturing into the night without any idea of where I was going.
Or how I was even making the trip.
My vision was blurry. My stride was awkward. Time meant nothing. I remember leaving the neighborhood, then hitting 3040, but not the journey in-between. Some punk asked me for weed, to which I replied that I had none (even if I did, I would have smoked it by then). Then, without realizing it, I called Gabbie.
I told her about the kid who asked me for weed, which she found amusing. Then, as a car passed, she asked me very seriously:
“Where are you?”
Do I lie to her?*** Sober, probably, but in this state, the truth flowed out for the filters were inhibited.
***For those of you who think me saying I would have lied to her sounds bad, let me remind you that if she knew where I really was, she would have come all the way out there and picked me up, even though I would not have wanted her to.
“Walking down 3040,” I responded.
“Why?” she inquired.
****Again, I should have fucking lied!!
— I just slammed down 24 ounces of beer and a half dozen amphetamine pills in a span of 2 minutes,” I answered like it was no big deal.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” she chastised. “Where exactly are you?”
“You’re not coming to get me,” I demanded.
“Yes, I am. Where exactly are you?”
“No, you’re not. I’m not your responsibility!”
This “yes, I am”, “no, you’re not” banter continued for another minute or so, then I finally caved, knowing, even in my inebriated state, I couldn’t win.
“Fine! I’ll be at the fucking Valero!”
A few minutes later, the Beretta appeared in the Valero parking lot… with the ex-now-current boyfriend driving it. The fighting with Gabbie and the fighting with Meghan had begun to sober me up, and now seeing Public Enemy #1 right in front of me completely removed any visual evidence I had even been high. I grudgingly got in the car, and we drove off.
Arriving at Wal-Mart, I had a cigarette and watched them flirt and hug and kiss. I went inside, they followed. Gabbie bought stuff, then we left. I initially refused to get back in the car, but Gabbie delivered the “… or never contact me again” ultimatum, to which I grudgingly gave in.
Back to the neighborhood, I demanded to be let go before arriving at my house. The ex-now-current boyfriend made Gabbie give into my demands, then they sped off passing me on Ace Lane as I once again left the neighborhood, headed toward nowhere fast.
November 1st – November 18
When I wasn’t at work, I was withdrawing. The trembling continued, arguably worse than before and my writing sputtered out. I spent a lot of time just laying in the dark, letting my brain schism. I began taking my Vyvanse in excess of the prescribed rate, but infrequently, as to conserve my stock somewhat until the next refill.
I had one instance where I sat in the utility room one night — for the better part of an hour — staring at bleach and laundry detergent, wondering how quickly the combination ingested would kill me. I was reaching the peak.
Gabbie and Public Enemy #1 would break up over this time.
The Events of November 18th – November 19th
Meghan came over for the weekend with Jax. We discussed things, mostly what’s been going on with me, but Jax and her work and such. We went to AMF with some friends, then proceeded back to the house to watch TV and just relax.
A sequence of events I’m calling “The 1-2-3” happened that night and into the next day.
Meghan and I fought the afternoon of the 20th, ultimately ending in me leaving for a walk, from which I wouldn’t return until nearly 1:30am, seven-and-a-half hours after my departure time. She left while I was gone, sending me a text message bidding me goodbye for good and that I was not allowed to see Jax for an unspecified amount of time.
When I home, battered from the walk, my phone rang. Gabbie called and told me she wanted to see me. I agreed and within the hour, I had left here and was in my old apartment again.
I would return home the morning of the 21st.
The Events of November 22nd
Gabbie, Julia, and her other “temporary” roommate, Chad, decided to have a Thanksgiving feast that night, calling me to tell me they were on their way. I went, expecting food and folly.
Not necessarily what I actually got.
The meal became a gathering of Gabbie’s ex’s, which at least on my end, made for some very awkward exchanges, especially since we were drinking. After a couple of hours, I decided to leave, basically begging my friend Christy — one of my closest confidants — to come get me.
I notified Gabbie that I was leaving, which upset her. The half-hour wait for Christy to arrive was almost nothing but silence between myself and everyone else.
A silent ride home ensued… and she wouldn’t speak to me again for over a month…*****
*****Christy had helped me move my things from the apartment to my parents’ house after the Breakup With Gabbie. I told Christy I was done with her, and all that pain-induced crap. Christy also didn’t know I had temporarily moved back in. She was pissed off I was even there in the first place that night.
Of course, I could tell from the silence, something like that was going to happen.
I got home, went inside, got some water… then broke into tears in front of my mother. I had not done such a thing since I was a child. After some discussion, I went outside and called Jen, another close friend of mine, and told her I needed to see her, proceeding to walk to Stephen’s apartment, which is where she was staying at the time.
I got home and was disgusting. I knew I’d be staying the night, so I took a shower and changed into some more comfortable, less funky clothes. I talked with Jen, then broke down in front of her.******
******I hadn’t cried twice in one day since I was probably a baby.
“Jen,” I said, tears streaming down my face, “I’ve lost my son, I’ve lost the girl I still love, and I’ve probably lost one of my best friends. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
She looked at me and replied, “This is rock bottom. It’s only up from here.”
After a bit more conversing, we went back into the living room, observing Kat and Stephen play some game on the Wii.
I spent November 2011 hoping that I would somehow die. I lost people I cared about — the girl I still loved, my son, and one of my closest friends — because of my downhill-spiraling sanity. I’ve only really gotten Jax back. I don’t talk to Gabbie or Christy beyond sporadically anymore, and the conversations are always short. Jen and Kat have moved back to Keller to be closer to their families and their future living situation. As of today, February 1st, Meghan and I haven’t spoken in nearly three days.
As I said yesterday, I’m not convinced I’ve fully had the breakdown yet. That parasitic feeling of loneliness is coming back… the same one that began to topple me off the tightrope above the deep canyon with the spear-like rocks in it’s recesses.