Discharged x2

After I broke Brian's heart right before Valentines Day I was seemingly OK with my decision for the most part. The ex and I were having fun. Like the beginning of every "new" relationship we were infatuated with each other again and it was really nice. We spent Valentines day weekend together, ice climbing and skiing. We went to dinner and enjoyed each other. Well this is where all good things come to an end. Things started going bad slowly. Neither one of us wanted to admit it because we had been through so much already. I had gotten in an argument with our close mutual friends and wasn't on speaking terms with them. Well at least with John's wife but to be safe I kept my distance and didn't talk to either of them.
She and I had gotten into an argument, which wasn't new because we always butt heads but this time I wasn't backing down. I was never one to bite my tongue and I had for years with her. So this is when 8 years of pent up frustration regurgitated all over her in verbal form. I had been quite for long enough and once I was pushed over the edge by her saying "it was wrong of me to say I'm moving and to having broken up with him in the first place" I nearly exploded. The end of the conversation was her stating that "she wrote me off". Easy enough, bridges burned, I'm OK with that.
Nearing the end of February the ex and I had gone to a costume party and had a great time with some of his relatives and friends. I can honestly say that was the last good time we had together. The weekend following that were a blur. The last paragraph in my journal entry from march 2nd says "I am still really doubtful and confused. I want to feel like I am doing the right thing for me and not because I am feeling guilty". Having went through so much in the past two months and changing birth control pills I literally felt like I was going crazy. Going cray and acting crazy began to intertwine within my world and I was all over the place mentally. I had finally finished school and was officially a graduate but I couldn't even be proud of myself and relish in it because I was so overwhelmed. Its sad when going to work is the only stable thing in a persons life and I was grateful to have had that however my behavior was beginning to effect my performance at work.
There comes a point in everyone's life when they realize some things are just beyond control. Not only was I dealing with personal issues but I was also training my new boss which was thrilling. After I had finally gotten the help I needed at work a trained two very amusing guys I now how to relay everything I had learned to my new boss and do it pleasantly. On top of that attempting to play "wifey" again with the ex was rough, we lived in separate places and had begun talking about our future together again. We had discussed him moving back in and had told his landlord that he would be moving out at the end of the month. I had so many doubts I could barely put it into words. It sounded like a great idea but two days later, after he had told his landlord, I told him I couldn't let him move back in. I had crushed him yet again! How many more times could he take. What was I doing, and why was I doing this to someone I care so deeply about?! I didn't understand why he still wanted to talk to me.
We had broken up again and this time I knew that was it. I was more upset at this point than I was in September. Knowing I had messed things up once and for all with a lack of sticking to a decision on my part, a vital lesson was learned. Once a life changing decision is made there is no reason to question it. If it wasn't something that was desired or meant to happen it wouldn't have been a thought in the first place. The next week was a blur and I can honestly say I don't remember much of it. The week came and went. Before I realized it was Friday March 18th, it wasn't a relevant date at the time but little did I know the next four days would change my life forever.
This is where I open up and tell my life story, explaining why I am the way I am. I am going to say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. By no means do i think I had the worst life anyone can and has had but I wouldn't wish it on my enemy. The one thing that helped me through hard times was thinking that so many people have something worse going on and get through it. So here goes....
A big part of the reason I was with the ex for so long was because he was the only person in my life who was actually there for me at all. I grew up very fast and was never able to rely on anyone for anything and was always someones crutch. I am going to share something I wrote in high school; it was an admittance essay for college, "Tell us about yourself, your life and why you want to go to college". Typical essay topic. I will elaborate where I need to but this is my childhood in a nutshell.

Gotta' Have Faith

Growing up, like every child I was oblivious about what was going on around me. I was always in my own little world and as long as I got what I wanted and was the center of attention I didn't care. However, there are a lot of things in my life that I cant forget no matter how hard I try. The arguments, fights, drinking, and police in my house. These are things that shaped me, opened my eyes to the world and made me grow up faster than most children had to.

I was almost eleven by the time things started going bad within my household. I have two sisters one who is ten years older and the other four years younger. My older sister was kicked out of the house by my mother when I was six. I really had no idea what was going on. I remember my mother and sister wrestling on the ground and when they finally rose to their feet my mother grabbing a butchers knife and chasing her out of the house screaming. I had always been scared of my mother, she was always the disciplinarian and I got into my fair share of trouble especially having a little sister who consistently got me in trouble. Things were seemingly OK in my eyes at the time. We were living in a nice house and being six reality wasn't something I was in tune with. The next five years went by and we had moved out of the nice house i was used to, my parents argued but it seemed normal, nothing out of the ordinary at the time. I didn't know at the time but my parents received money after my grandmother passed away, my fathers mother, that was the reason why we lived in this nice house and as the money ran out and lifestyles had to change turmoil began. Little did I know at the time we had been evicted and the car had been repossessed, bank accounts were closed and things began to get worse. My father is an alcoholic and this began to get worse and he hates his job so he doesn't go to work From then on it seemed like everything went wrong. I made friends in the neighborhood, they weren't friends my mother liked me to be around but they were there. I started to get into trouble and i was constantly grounded. The week my friends were arrested was pretty rough but nothing compared to what was going to happen within that month.

My mother and I picked up my little sister from after school daycare, the woman who had owned it had approached my mother and said she was too far behind on payments and my little sister could no longer attend after school care. I remember getting into the car and seeing my mother break out in tears and scream "I HATE YOUR FATHER!". She went on to yell about how he fucks everything up and is nothing but a drunk who doesn't go to work. That night after dinner I remember like it was yesterday. My father didn't go to work and it was a trigger for and explosion. My father came home after my mother had thought he went to work, just to find out he took off and went fishing, came home drunk and Kaboom! Que explosion... I remember everything getting quiet and I knew something was wrong. They had just been arguing, screaming, crying, shuffling, banging and now dead silent. I told my sister to stay upstairs no matter what she hears and not to go downstairs, I would be back for her. I had to go see what was going on because I had gotten used to getting in the middle of insane fights over the past few months but I never expected to see what I did. As I walked down the stairs and turned the corner trying to be stealthy, I watched my mother empty a bottle of pills into her hand and take every single one in unimaginable gulps in between yelling at my father and him yelling back. He noticed me and yelled for me to get help and withing that moment my mother saw me and grabbed a knife from the butchers block and put it to her wrist. Every fight in the house consisted of the phone being ripped out of the wall so when I went to call 911 I couldn't. My eyes filled with tears and I dropped to my knees and screamed "I will never forgive you for this". My father yelled at me to get help and I ran down the stairs to the neighbor in a fit, pounding at his door for what seemed like hours and demanded to use the phone. Shaking, not knowing what was going on upstairs, on the phone not being able to think or speak. The next thing I remember is seeing a fleet of police officers, an ambulance, and what seemed like the whole town watching. An officer found me hysterical with one of the neighbors and asked me what happened. The first thought I had was my little sister. I scrambled to get into the apartment. Officers running after me because my mother was still in the house. I approached the top step and gazed into the kitchen, tears streaming, looking at my mother and the EMT's until the officer caught up to me and I ran up to the bedroom and grabbed my sister in my arms and left the house with the police. That night my father, sister and I slept at my uncles house.

Early that morning, still thinking about what had happened I turned the corner and saw my father kissing "a family friend" on my uncles couch. Having been through hell the night before I was already in shock and didn't realize what I had actually witnessed, considering my mother was in the psych. ward. The next three days went by and my father took us to a local park everyday, which I thought was very nice, but completely out of the ordinary. I hadn't realized it was a safe spot to meet up with various women. My mother finally came home and things weren't the same with anyone. She never mentioned what happened and I didn't talk about it with anyone. I never told her about the women I saw my father with because I was terrified of what would happen. My father consistently decided to "take us to the park" before he went to work or on his days off but taking us on a date was where things went terribly wrong. My parents and I never, ever, went out to eat so for this to be really happening was an eye opening experience for myself and my 6 year old sister. A day went by and I had been over my older sister house watching "Romeo and Juliet" (ironic), my mother called and asked to speak with me. She told me that she asked my little sister if she had fun with our father and being six she said "yeah mommy, we went to the diner with daddy's kissing friend and i had pancakes". So she was really calling me for confirmation on this knowing that kids make things up. Not know what I should say I told her we went to the diner and some lady met us there. The phone went dead and I needed to get home with urgency. I didn't tell my older sister anything and just had her drop me off. I got home and my mother knew everything. As quickly as my father came home and walked up the stairs he was chased back down, my mother knife in hand ready to kill him. I remember watching her run barefoot down the middle of a major street with a knife after my father who was in a car and was terrified as the light turned red. Lets just say he didn't open the window or get out of the car but he didn't get far with the tires being flat. All of his possessions on the sidewalk within minutes of my mother coming back inside. My mother then took on a full time job and and worked everyday, sometimes overtime just ot make ends meat. So i took on the responsibility to make sure my sister was picked up from school and things were taken care of when my mother came home. That period of my life revolved around my sister and being transported every other weekend to see my father. In that time I saw my mother drunk for the first time, cleaned up her puke, waiting on lines at food pantries, ultimately being evicted and homeless with my mother and sister.

It didn't hit me that day we had to move out. My father was trying to give up custody of my sister and I because he didn't want to pay child support, his exact words were that "we were too expensive and he didn't want to pay that much". The main reason why we were evicted was because he hadn't paid child support and my mother couldn't pay rent making minimum wage. After living at my cousins house for three months and switching school districts, my parents began talking again. My father apologized and said he was going to be responsible, quit drinking and we were going to live together again. Once again, I thought everything was going to be OK. We found a nice apartment and we were going to live together again, I was happy even though my feelings towards my parents were nothing but hatred. It seemed like as soon as things were getting better they went wrong again, my father didn't go to work for a week straight and was suspended, he did nothing but drink for two weeks straight. When he gets drunk he gets nasty, so walking around the house was like walking on eggshells. When I say drunk I mean he peed in his sleep drunk and said my mother had poured water on the bed. Even tho she didn't sleep with him and resided on the couch. No one ever said a word to him because when we did it went terrible wrong. Fights and arguments were more intense than ever and only getting worse. It seemed like a nice day, I decided i wanted to cook dinner and I made a chocolate bunt cake, set the table and we were going to have a family dinner. I didn't know that day my mother noticed a woman's raincoat in the trunk of the car and "coincidentally" my father was drunk again so what better time to have a family dinner. No sooner that we sat down the table was flipped, food covered the walls, floors and us. I was in the middle of a tornado. My mother punched my father in the nose nearly breaking it, causing a flow of blood and drunken rage. He backed her into a corner and started punching her in the head. I was terrified. They had gotten physical before but never like this. I stated hitting him and screaming only to be pushed around. Things died down and i had to get everyone out of the house. I helped my mother get to the car, my sister followed and then the dog. When I thought we were finally ready to leave my mother, bruised, crying and nauseous turns to me and says "you have to go back into the house and get the money i have been hiding" she told me exactly where it was and i reluctantly went, not knowing if i was going to make it out. Dead silence in the house until my father heard the screen door close, he came running out of the bathroom ready to battle. Seeing that it was me he asked why i was back, telling him i forgot something as i rushed into his bedroom to the secret spot my mother told me of. I grabbed the old change purse and put it in my shirt. I turned around and my father was there right over my shoulder and started yelling at me a pushing me around. Getting past him was never too difficult because I wasn't scared of him and we were about the same size. When he realized my strength, what i had and what i was doing he chased me out of the house. I had made it outside thinking i was out of the battlefield to be pushed down the porch stairs being called every name in the book. Getting back to the car, my mother had welts the size of half dollars on her head and could barely keep her eyes open. She slowly drove up the road, myself holding the steering wheel trying to help, she stopped every half mile to mile so she could throw up.

My mother ended up taking him back again and everything has been OK. No one talks about things that happened and my father doesn't remember, so we act like it never happened.

My parents and I don't get along and as long as we don't talk things are seemingly OK. I have grown up without a father in my eyes and have come to live with it. since then I have tried to do better in school because I want to have a better life than what I grew up living. This is why I want to go to college, so I can start a new life and try to get away from the problems. I'm my future I hope to have what I have always wanted; a good career, and nice place to live, and eventually a happy family of my own. The way I see it, college is the start of my life.

**Keep in mind the last few sentences of this essay were written when I was 17 and I have reflected on my past a lot since.

 

OK. With all of that out in the open... When I began the relationship with my ex I was in high school, three months before graduation and I was in a vunerable place. I never really trusted anyone and he was there for me and treated me like no man in my life ever had. The thought that I had lost that forever in the past few days was hurting me terribly. On top of that, someone who knows you and is in your life for 8 years knows what to say to hurt you, knows how to kill your soul. He had told me I never had any friends, I'm a terrible person and no one wants to be around me, I will never find anyone who will put up with me. etc... Waking up Sunday morning the 21st I was in a strange mindset. I had a strange dream that I was on a local train trellis and I was contemplating jumping off of it crying terribly in this dream. I woke up very upset. This dream was so vivid and real that I had to go there, it was only a 10 min drive. Crying the whole way I tested the ex who was getting ready to go on a trip to NYC with his family, I refused to go, I basically told him about this dream and that I was so upset I did think about killing myself. He asked me where I was and I told him I was on my way to the trellis. I hung up when I got there. In shock. Hysterical crying. I dropped to my knees in front of a 15ft gate guarding the entry of the trellis. I looked up at the sky, thinking there was something greater that was keeping me from doing something terrible, and it brought me here for me to realize that. The ex showed up there and scooped me into his arms and tried to console me. He told me I had to go home and we went our separate ways because he had to go with his parents. As soon as i arrived home I got a phone call that he wasn't going and was on his way over. We talked and I did tell him I have thought about killing myself, I had thought about it when I was younger too but never actually took steps towards it. I explained my dream to him and he didn't seem to understand.

We talked about so many things, everything really, but I remember him saying John is my best friend over and over while on the topic of myself losing them as friends. I was so sick of hearing that I told him something I had been keeping to myself our whole relationship. I said "if hes your best friend why did he tell me he loves me and never wanted to be married to his wife and tried to sleep with me when you were at work!". I didn't need to say anymore, all of which is true. I have no reason to make things up. I had told John I loved him too but it isn't fair to his wife or to my boyfriend if we did sleep together, so nothing happened.

The next day, Monday March 23rd I woke up and got ready for work. My phone rang and it was the ex. Knowing I shouldn't answer it I did anyway because I didn't want him to worry. He went on to tell me that he sat down with John and his wife and talked to them about what I said. John had admitted to it and they both wanted to talk to me and I owe it to them because I ruined their marriage. Devastated he did that I fell apart. I told him if he thought I had a bad day yesterday this day is 100 times worse and I hung up the phone. I had called my best friend begging her to come over and she told me she would. He kept calling and I ignored. it. I talked to his mother who was crying giving me the number to a suicide hot line. I got off the phone with her and answered the ex hysterically and told him my friend was on her way over. He didn't believe me, which is because he called her and told her not to go because he had called the police telling them i was suicidal, along with his cousin. A light knock at the door I thought was my friend, answering it hysterically to 3 police officer and 3 EMTs. I said "I cant believe he really called you". I sat on the couch and was trying to explain myself and his cousin barges into my apartment and says "if you don't take her to the hospital I will". That was it. I was forced to the psych ward by 9am on Monday. I walked into the ambulance. Texting Brian because I had went to his house the night before talking to him about my dream, which he understood because he seemed to understand me differently. I spent the next four hours crying, I had to talk to the psychiatrist. My father did as well. I was sure I wasn't going to be there much longer. They had also talked to the ex who basically told them I am crazy and I'm a danger to myself, that he found me on a bridge the day before and I was about to jump off of it. I spent 28 hours in the psych ward, with nothing but my own under ware. I wasn't allowed to brush my teeth by myself. The pay phone, where I finally got in touch with Brian, who spent the day calling nursed he knew trying to get me out, only had a 10 inch chord so a "crazy" couldn't strangle themselves. Zombie people walked around me. Others screaming getting strapped to beds. Standing at the nurses station saying excuse me, politely trying to get attention, I was ignored for 10 minutes until I was more blunt and just demanded attention. I was followed around and my doings were documented every fifteen minutes.

I refused a medication I wasn't prescribed knowing it would turn me into a zombie. By lunch I spoke with my therapist and eight other doctors in the same room. They asked to hear my story so I told them, everything. From my childhood, to the breakup, to the abortion to almost being raped in my apartment. They told me I am courageous to have been through so much in my life and have the mindset i do. They said I wasn't crazy and didn't need to be there. I was discharged and on my way home within the hour on Tuesday March 22nd at 3pm.

I was told to not contact the ex and not talk to him if he contacted me, it was detrimental to my mental health. I was so mad at him that didn't seem like a problem. I was infuriated by what he put me through. If he wanted to help me that was not the way to do it.

This was a Skype message from the day I got out of the hospital..

The ex: I understand if you hate me and never want to talk to me. I have a letter i want you to read. 

Me: I do really dislike you and the therapist said i cant talk to you bc its not good for me. That def wasn't what i needed. I was literally in the psych ward locked in through double doors with crazy people I couldn't even have my own clothes so U have no fucking idea what i went through and how i felt. I know you were scared but there is a different way to help me. The therapist said not only am I not crazy but they don't want me on meds and I just need to talk to someone on a regular basis that wont judge me or tell me what to do to benefit themselves.

The ex: I didn't know what to do. I was so scared for you and after talking to your friend she said I should make the call. I'm Sorry you have so much hate for me but try to see why I did it. Please try.

Me: I do and fuck her she didn't even come to see me at the hosp. but that wasn't the way to do it not at all. It made me feel crazy sitting there having people watch me and follow me around. having crazy people scream and get sedated. Its one thing to be scared and want to help but iItalked to your mom before the ambulance got here and I was very very upset but I wasn't and will never hurt myself no matter what i think about., I'm fucking scared to get a tattoo bc its going to hurt!!!! and you telling them you saved me from the bridge is what kept me there you didn't save me that gate was there and you know damn well that if iIwas going to do it I would have before you even showed up. you lied to them and I was stuck there thinking I was actually crazy and I hate you for it.

That was the last time I talked to him for close to a month.

I had learned a lot about myself and the relationship we had while i was in the hospital. I felt empowered. I had been through so much in my life and never needed him. Why was I using him as a crutch when I hated being that person for everyone else my whole life. I left the hospital a different person.

Things were still hard but I knew at this point I could get through it.