LOSS
I saw it coming. I cannot say that I did not. Regardless of mental health issues and the fog brought on by too much wine drinking, I knew with every fiber of my being, that my ship was launching itself full speed into disaster.
But even knowing it was about to happen did nothing to dull the gut-wrenching pain that I felt when the collision hit me full force on Tuesday night, May 24th, 2022.
The year 2020 for me was not just a pandemic. It was the start of a two year period where my husband would undergo 21 foot surgeries and one LAD artery stent procedure. It the start of driving back and forth between my home in Maryland and Georgetown Medstar weekly and sometimes daily. It was the beginning of two years of care-giving despite a full-time non-profit job. It was the start of many of my closest friendships beginning to unravel.
What started out several years ago as a Friday night Fire Pit Frenzy and one night to enjoy a bottle of wine with friends, had become a nightly crutch; a way to dull emotional hurt. I have never had a drink before work or before church and I would only day drink sometimes on a day off work.
I've been doing a lot of reading of medical articles on excessive wine drinking and from what they say, I am not an alcoholic. What I am, I think, is alcohol dependent. It has become part of a daily routine and that is the cycle that I am breaking, however, whether an alcoholic or being alcohol dependent, didn't matter when it came to friendships and my abuse of them when I was drinking.
Of at least temporary vanishing or very strained relationships from two years ago until now, I have managed to fuck up in some way, in chronological order:
1. Kelly (getting slightly better)
2. Barb
3. Jim
4. Tod
5. Nikki and Addie
6. and the worst pain of all of them, Kirk.
Number 2-5, I am actively working on fixing, one small step at a time and I know the conversation of "I drink too much and when I do, I'm not always nice" needs to happen, but those are very difficult words to say. I did message them to my pastor yesterday, so that is a start.
Number 6 happened Tuesday night and out of all of them, it was my relationship with my dearest friend in this world, that hit me the hardest, even though I saw it unraveling before my eyes, but yet remained powerless to stop it. Seeing it clearly enough to text him with apologies Tuesday night for being such a bitch to him at times, telling him how sorry I was that I could at times and lately, use him as an emotional punching bag for myself. No, I never called names, or insulted him, I just put too much pressure on this wonderful person to fix me and fixing me was not his job.
Then the response that he loved me and always would, but that we had been running in such circles lately, that he needed a break....from me. He said he would get in touch with me when he was ready to talk.
How long is a break? Days? A week? A month? Longer is not even fathomable for me.
Numbers 2-5 were slow transitions to not really getting together, but still having some sort of relationship, via text or occasional get-togethers. Number 1 was sudden with no explanation from her, but I was able to figure it out. Number 6 was stated hard, despite his caring nature and damn near has taken my breath away.
Yes, I have a story to tell and I'm going to try to tell it here. It starts many years ago but has in many ways defined how I react to certain situations (triggers) and how my brain functions. The story involves what I now see is an almost life-time problem with mental health (I really thought the start of it was during "The 8 Weeks of Crazy", but in looking back, it started at the age of 12, when I threatened suicide for the first time.).
I want to tell my story as a way to pass time during the break of the most precious friendship I have ever had in my life, as a way to not use Facebook as a diary, and hopefully as a way to find my own healing.
I see a new therapist this afternoon.
