On August 13, 2013 something happened. This event changed my life. For better or worse I am not sure yet. My best friend attempted suicide. I still remember getting the phone call at midnight. Dropping to the floor and the shock that seemed to stop my heart. I didn’t know if she was going to be ok, I spent most of the night on the floor of my bathroom. I was out of my Kolonopin, I couldn’t find my breath and my mind was racing. Pleading with CVS to fill a few pills for me until they could release my prescription from another store (I just moved). They couldn’t release any pills to me until morning. I’m sure I sounded like a druggie, but when you feel like that and are going through thinking you may loose someone none of that matters.
I have a history or major depression and anxiety, I need pills to function. This doesn’t make me a drug addict, they are all prescribed and I attend therapy regularly.
I’m writing through this experience. It’s the best kind of therapy. I write through all the surgeries, procedures, disagreements with her, and about our undying love. She is a big part of my world and I refuse to leave her side. No matter how stubborn she is or what the future brings. I am keeping her info as anonymous as I can. As I feel comfortable I will release details. But I will release my writings in the meantime.
Some things I write May be fuzzy or unclear, I cannot promise complete control as I have been having emotional difficulties. These sometimes cause me to go through extreme lows and highs. I’m fighting and I’ll be ok. I’m stronger than you know…