It's Not Over 'Till It's Over

I'm a whirlwind of thoughts, of ideas. I don't know what to do with myself.

I broke down last night. I miss [the idea of] Ryanna. I'm going insane with the uncertainty of my life. And I have no one, not even Graham (yeah talking to him about all that last night was a mistake), and that kills me. I feel as though I'm dying inside and I can't do anything about it. No one will listen to me. No one is there for me.

It's making me crazy. It's making me crave the blade again. It's making me crave the curiosity of knowing what it's like on "the other side." It's making me crave to want to be a mother again, and now. But I can't have all three going on inside of me at once. Seriously I can't.

All damn morning I was practically a zombie, going over in my head every craving. I thought about starting up cutting again, how it would shut me up like it did four years ago. I thought about saying "Fuck it," sending off my suicide notes to everyone I know and calling it quits. I thought about throwing out this month's birth control and actively try to get pregnant. All insane, all pointing to me being committed or thrust into therapy (even though that didn't really help in the first place). But for now I sit here with the radio playing in the background, and I Skype with my boyfriend while he finishes his homework.

I feel terrible for knowing he can't help either, because he has no idea what this is like. Whenever we go through a scare, he flips out and worries about the negatives: what will we do with the baby, how will we tell our parents, what about school? Instead, I think about all the positives: what it would feel like to create a human being, the overwhelming joy of our child's' accomplishments. It's a curse, not worrying. It kills me, just like it kills me to know he can't help. All he says is that he loves me and that he promises that he isn't' going anywhere. While it's cute and I appreciate it, it gets annoying really fast, especially when I'm looking for answers and solutions on what to do in this scenario.

This coming Sunday will be the one year anniversary of my suicide attempt, marking my lowest point in my entire life after Graham left. I never shared the story did I? Well here it goes...

That Friday afternoon, I'd gone home with Jimmy to piss off my mom and ended up rolling around on his bed making out and...other things. Later, Graham had just ended our "reconciliation" and talked me to sleep, saying he'd call me in the morning (this was a Friday night into Saturday); he never called. I left a message and when I didn't get it back, by the time my parents left me home alone my mind was made up. Yes, it was an impulse decision, but I was done. I was finished with literally feeling sick to my stomach, being unable to eat and throwing up whatever I'd managed to eat. Gone from my mind were TJ (the first time around) and Jimmy, regardless of how I felt about them. All that was in my mind was Graham. And how devastated and dead I was. I went into the cabinet and downed 24 Bayer aspirin. I knew the effects wouldn't be immediate, so I laid on the couch with the TV on and waited to die, basically. Before I passed out, I thought about how my mom would walk in from Sam's Club and find me on the couch, dead. I wondered who she'd call first. I thought about how Graham would take it when he found out and whether or not he'd feel guilty. I thought about Jimmy and wondered if he'd regret all the things we hadn't figured out. I thought about TJ, who was the only one who loved me unconditionally. And then I was out. In retrospect, I'm not sure what this next part was: was it a dream, or was it really Heaven? I remember being in white, walking through this easy maze. Everything was really bright, and then I got to this room that kinda looked like mine but instead everything was pure white and airy. One of the walls opened up all the way to reveal white empty space, but I recall it not being a bad empty space. I'd go as far to say it was more inviting and tranquil. Anyway, this woman appeared in a similar white dress out of the empty space: she was pale but healthy-looking, slender, and had curly chestnut hair. We were talking about going into the white space, and I wanted to, but for whatever reason I turned back. And then I woke up. I told Graham later that night what had happened over the phone, then expressed a desire to finish the job the following day (to which he threatened to call my mom). We fell asleep on the phone again, only I woke up at about 3 AM practically deaf and throwing up everywhere, and I was dizzy beyond belief. I went to the ER, and all they had to say was that my inner ears were off. What an understatement.

I found out later that I could have permanently damaged my hearing, although I hadn't been far off on the number of pills from death. A year after all this, the same thoughts are back. I wonder who would miss me, what people would do. I just...feel really sad all over again like before. And the worst part is that whenever I think of Graham and my's breakup, I can feel those feelings again; I wasn't able to before (probably a defense mechanism that's failing). Just because I'm over Graham and I've moved on doesn't mean I don't still hurt from what he did to me. Don't kid yourselves; I'm continuously in the process of picking up the pieces to my heart. Besides, I'd have to look up ways that wouldn't damage my hearing in the long run if I failed. I love music too much.

Like I said, this is all crazy. I'm crazy. All I want to do is get into the fetal position, turn on some music, and cry. I feel so defenseless and powerless and out of control. But it's not over 'till it's over. Nothing's over until it's truly over.

Which brings me full circle, and changing the topic, to Jimmy. I was late to history and while walking there I caught him staring at me. Staring me down with those electric eyes. Goddamn. I just have to remember what I have, which is so much better than he could ever give me; I just have to wait it out another nine months. Not too hard, right? But that's definitely not over 'till it's over, and over means he'll be long gone in college.

Okay now I'm doing a goodnight.

Love,
Caitlyn