Addictive Pain

Chapter 6 - Gone with the wind

Over the weeks the Lord and I grew closer and closer. I found myself extremely excited at the thought of him, let alone how I felt with him in the room with me.  We talked as much as his work schedule would allow, he made the time for me in a way that I hadn't experienced in years. The future actually seemed bright when he was there with me. When I was alone however I spiralled. Going deeper and deeper into a depressive phase. But, I had him and that was all I needed.  Little did I know how things would soon take a turn for the worse. I have to be very careful what I say next, we both confided a lot in each other and what happened next isn't mine to share so, I'll have to leave parts out.

The lord gave me warning that he would be off his phone for a while, how long he wasn't sure. I knew he was going through so much, bless his heart, so I totally understood.  Did that stop me checking my phone every five minutes to see if he messaged? No. In the time he was away I took my first steps again, something that I was dying to tell him but I respected his boundaries as best as I could in my drug addled brain would allow me. 

After about a week of radio silence I heard back from him. Was I angry it was so long? Yes. However, I knew that it wasn't aimed at me doing something wrong but rather he had a lot going on. Plus, I missed him so I eagerly agreed to have a phone call with him. He confided in me something about himself that surprised me. It didn't dampen my feeling towards him in any way just gave me food for thought. I told him that I loved him no matter what and this didn't in any way dampen my feelings towards him in any way. But, in all honesty I didn't know how to handle the news and needed to speak with someone. So, I rang my mother and confided in her.  She reassured me that it was all going to be okay. She asked me if I loved him and I said yes, she told me that I had to fight for him, to hold him close and tell him how much I care and how it didn't change anything with how I felt.

In truth it didn't matter to me, he had my heart and I refused to allow myself to give it to another. My mum was key in reinforcing the message of acceptance. In normal circumstances I'd never go to my mum with anything deep, I tend to speak to my dad like that however, mum really soothed me and promised me it was all going to be okay but that I needed to give him and I the space and time to come to terms with the information. In many aspects since I came out as trans my mum and I haven't seen eye to eye, my dad was always the level headed one. Mum and I are farrrrrr too alike for our own good but, whilst I was in hospital my mum was my rock just as my dad was my anchor. Whilst we still had the occasional spat I knew (and still do) that my parents will always have my back and will always fight in my corner when needed.

The Lord visited me a few days after he told me the news. I was waiting with anticipation to see him, nervous and excited at the same time. When I saw him walk through the door of my private room I couldn't help but feel that familiar tug in my heart which made me feel at peace. We spoke through the information and I did as my mum advised, I told him it didn't change how I felt about him in any way and that I was here to support him in any way that I could. I wanted to be that listening ear and that guiding voice for him, just has he had been for me. I listened and absorbed the information, my mind going a million miles an hour but I also provided information and guidance as best as I could. He really did mean the world to me and I wasn't ready to let him go but life has mysterious ways of working sometimes.

I told him that I had spoken and confided in my mum about the information, he did not like that one bit. He grew angry and the look in his eyes told me that he was seeing red and by God did that terrify me. He started getting angrier and angrier at my confiding in mum. I didn't, at the time, see the problem as he had confided in his mum things about me. God was that a mistake to say.  He shouted and told me that if I felt the need to speak to someone it should have been his mum (who I'd only met briefly once and didn't have her number). My heart grew heavier and heavier with every angry word he said. I knew I couldn't keep it together for much longer and I told him that I thought it was time for him to leave. As soon as he had gone I fell apart. It was like my whole world took a hit from an avalanche and in all honesty I didn't know what to do or who to turn to. 

Normally I would have turned to the 'Unholy  trinity' (my group chat with my 2 best girlfriends) but the lord had helped in isolating me from them. Encouraging me to write a stupid facebook post because he said they were "bad friends who don't deserve you" (they were both going through a lot themselves and needed my support as much as I needed theirs). I look back on it now and I kick myself for being so stupid, he planted this seeds in my head to try to isolate me from everyone in my life from friends to family to ex-friends to ex-employers. I used to think he knew what was best for me but by god was I wrong. So yes, he played a key part but I will always take accountability for what I've done as at the end of the day he was whispering in my ear but I didn't have to write or say anything. Yes I was pumped full of fentanyl and ketamine and highly malleable but it was still on me. I will never forgive myself for the damage I caused the two friends I loved more than anyone in the whole world, the gravity of the damage I caused them still to this day haunts me, even though one of them in back in my life as a best friend and has forgiven me for the past I never will and I will never stop beating myself up over it. The other friend I follow online and will always be beyond proud of her and want what's best for her, even if it means not having me in her life. Both of them are to this day still inspirational to me, they're rocking their lives and I couldn't be prouder of them. They are both incredible and a real inspiration to me - even to this day. I will always love them and cherish them and the time we spent together.

As the Lord left I broke down, in a way that I never had before. I don't remember how it happened or anything but I had my first stress seizure. One minute I was crying my eyes out and the next I have doctors and nurses all around me trying to stabilise me. It was a dark time but all I wanted to do was reach out the the Lord. I was told that I'd had a small seizure but we all chalked it up to a one time thing.  My parents were called as I was in such a state, the immediately advised the hospital to take away any sharp objects so I wouldn't cut myself. By God did I want to but I'm thankful that they knew me well enough to take the safety measures. In all honesty I don't know how much time passed but next thing I know my parents were there hugging and holding me as I sobbed into their shoulders. I was a wreck, I could feel my heart breaking more and more with every beat.  I've been broken hearted before but never like that, words cant even begin to describe how I felt in those next few days. I hoped and prayed that this was just a blip in the story that was happening with the Lord.

The lord and I exchanged polite messages (I didn't tell him about the seizure as I was scared he'd weaponised it against me) over the next few days and I had hope that we'd work through it and be fine. Everything would be fine right? It had to be. Until a few days later when I was on my way to the X-ray room, still being pumped full of fentanyl and ketamine, I said something I shouldn't have, by accident, whilst defending my mum. For all our fights I will always have her back and I will never tolerate someone being vial about her when it's not warranted. He had the audacity to speak in a cruel and vial way about my mother having never met her but also having heard about the progress she (at the time) had made with me. I had the X-ray and when I got back to my room I saw his response and I knew, I just knew that this was it. I sent another message but it wouldn't deliver and then his WhatsApp picture disappeared. He'd blocked me.

I sent messages via text begging him to come back to me, pleading for him to return but he ignored me and then blocked me on text. That didn't stop me and in between seizures I'd scream, cry, anything. I was in real danger at that point and if I'd had sharp objects with me I would have used them. At the time, I didn't want to live without him but also just knowing I'd hurt him (all be it an honest mistake) was more than I could bear to handle. I very quickly lost all of the fight I had in me and became a shell of myself. I stopped eating, stopped sleeping, just lay there and would wish for death. The seizures would come from time to time but I didn't care, I didn't see the point in living and felt like I had no one left anymore. My parents and my psychiatrist grew increasingly alarmed at my ever worsening state. I'd lost all of my friends owing to him isolating me from them so I had my family and their friends but nothing soothed the pain I was in. Even though he'd blocked me I still tried all the time to get back in touch with him every day. I would send paragraphs and paragraphs apologising and blaming myself for everything that had happened. In truth, I was put back on 1-1 watch as they were scared that I'd do something stupid somehow. Don't get me wrong, I thought about it and if I had access to sharp objects I would have used them.  I'd never experienced pain like that it truly was as if my world was crumbling down all around me. I'd lost hope. He never laid a finger on me but his words and wrath cut deeper than any blade ever could. Knowing that I had accidentally hurt the one person I had left was too much for my mind and body to handle. That time was all a bit of a haze from meds, seizures and exhaustion. I gave up, I really didn't see the point if he wasn't there with me.