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….s’me.

Wow it’s been like…what…3 months? …No, more than that…Whatever – it’s been awhile and a lot has happened, mostly bad. However, the good stuff came after the bad stuff, but, as with most things recently, the bad stuff heavily outweighs the good.

Leeeeeeet’s see….biggest thing that happened was, friend attempted suicide in November. Luckily it wasn’t successful, but, you bet your sweet ass it was traumatic. Ended up having my first flashback the other week because of it.
So that’s fun.

Even more fun that I actually was THERE when her husband found her in the bedroom.

She’s safe now, and a few things happened that “opened her eyes to how she’s lucky enough to have a support group as opposed to everyone who doesn’t.” I just hope she knows that it’s still not gonna be a straight line of recovery. Anyway, I’ve developed what my therapist calls “checking.”

That’s essentially what the name implies – I keep checking to see if she’s still breathing when she’s asleep, I check to make sure she hasn’t hidden anything. Both me and her husband have taken precautions to make sure she’s safe but, of course, the mind isn’t that simple. By all logic, the precautions we’ve taken warrant her completely safe…but shit like that doesn’t go away easy.

I can’t go to bed before she does now or take naps since I woke up to her closed door, and almost 24 hours later we found her. Any time she closes her door, even if I know why, I still panic.
But she’s taken to a routine, and so have I. She’s making an effort to get better this time, and she knows how hard it was for me and her husband…I’m proud of her for how hard she’s trying.

I mentioned a therapist, that’s good. I have meds now, I have a therapist. I have that routine. Still unemployed though.

I’ve been reflecting on myself at night and just…I realize how lonely I feel sometimes. I haven’t really been intimate with someone for awhile. I like that my friends are comfortable around me and we joke around and rough house and what not, but, God, I miss just…being with someone I love like a partner and they love me back. Not gonna lie, it’s made me cry a few times.

Not just because of being single, but just because it’s reminded me how “single” I am. Single child, single soldier in this stupid battle, single minded, single fucking mattress that I hate sleeping in sometimes. Single this, single that.

MMMM I’ve become too independent – so much so that I don’t ask for help sometimes.

Maybe I’m scared of telling someone that I need help emotionally because I don’t want to be reasoned with, I just want to cry and be held and be told that someone loves me.

Makes me sound like I was my partner to be my therapist – no. I just want to be close enough to someone that, when shit like that happens, that level of comfort can be applied.

…Also I’m 20 now.