3 Weeks

I’ve thought about writing a post dozens of times in the past month and a half, but the real question is…did I have the desire?

Absolutely not.

I often present myself as this carefree, happy-go-lucky gal, however that is not the case.

Sometimes my thoughts–everything I want to write down–become exceedingly burdening, so I chose to hide them away for a little. Hide them from my friends, my family, and even myself. However, I’m ready to talk about them now.

It’s ironic, really, because my past couple posts were so positive and uplifting. But I realize I was only trying to convince myself that I was okay, when in reality, shit was going downhill at an accelerated speed.

I have never been suicidal. When I was a teenager, I recall having momentary thoughts about ending my life. But that was the most they had ever become. Just thoughts, floating around in my head.

However, a few weeks ago, my thoughts began turning into actual urges. I was thinking up methods, weighing the pros and cons…when I decided to take a positive step out of the darkness and contact a good friend and mentor of mine, Deanna.

Deanna is my coach and mentor for my essential oil business. Deanna has also proven herself to be an angel. I met with Deanna at a restaurant the day after I had been having urges. We talked about the oil business for a bit but then quickly delved into more deeper conversation. I never told her about the sudden compulsions I had been having to end my life, but I think she saw it clear that I was having difficulties. I mentioned the sadness I felt from not having any close friends, not having a boyfriend (stupid I know), from my parents divorcing, and also the sadness I felt when I looked in the mirror. I think she was able to gather up my pieces that I had brought forward and put the puzzle together, because she said the words that I have been saying over and over again to myself, but did not fully grasp until this moment:

“You gotta love yourself before anyone else loves you.”

Why hadn’t I just took this sentence and ran with it so many times before? I’ve heard it from dozens of people. I even told it to myself. So why now was I realizing its verity? I wish I knew. Maybe it took 23 years of my life for those neurons to finally fire. Either way, I ran with it that day.

So far I’ve been 3 weeks binge-eating free. So far I’ve been three weeks black-out drunk free. So far I’ve hung out with more people in 3 weeks than I had in a really long time. So far I’ve met people and haven’t felt like I needed to put on a show.

So far I’ve been 3 weeks suicidal-thoughts free.

This is the longest I’ve gone where all of the above statements remain consistently true. I want this to become a lifestyle, not just a positive-thinking phase. I’m tired of getting sucked back into the perpetual cycles that have been plaguing my life for so long–my binge eating+drinking cycle, my self loathing/then loving myself cycle, my “I’m independent”/”I need somebody” cycle. I need to stay out of this trap.

Please send your thoughts, prayers, and good vibes. I can do this.

Funerals

I’ve been to a few of them in my lifetime. My grandfather on my mother’s side died when I was 15, and also his sister who preceded him in death a month earlier. My other great aunt died when I was 14 I believe. Either way, it’s been a good 8 years since I’ve been to a funeral. I remember not really feeling sad at the ones I attended in the past. I think I was too young for the capacity to understand what was actually going on.

This past Wednesday night at the viewing, my dad read me the letter that he had written for his father, and he could not make it to the end without sobbing. I told him that at the funeral, I would stand by his side and take over if he could not finish. I had never seen his face look so relieved.

When my dad and I stood up to go to the podium on the day of the funeral, I prepared myself for a difficult task: if he was not even able to make it through the first sentence, it was my duty to read this 9 page hand-written letter.

However, my dad made it to the end. He even made it through to the part that had been the catalyst to his tears the night before. I was so proud of him. But, then, he pulled out a poem he had written, and said the words, “I’m now going to ask Taylor to read a poem I’ve written”.

It was at this moment I realized the honor I had just been given. I was going to read these beautiful words aloud to my entire family, to comfort them in their time of need.

I read the poem loudly and slowly. My voice did not falter once. Pappy Goss deserved that.

I sat back down, and my aunt, who was seated beside me, reached over, grabbed my hand, and said, “You are so beautiful, Taylor. Thank you.”

My eyes welled up with tears. I was honored to have done this for my family, and for Pappy Goss.

I think I understand funerals a lot more now. Pappy Goss was relying on me to read for him with grace, poise, and confidence, honoring his legacy in our small town. My family soaked up the words and probably appreciated that they weren’t the ones having to do it, because they would have fallen apart. I’m glad I could serve them, and my grandfather, on his last day.

Rest in peace, Herbert.

 

This is So Messed Up

So I mentioned yesterday that my grandfather passed away. Yesterday was also Valentine’s Day.

I got home around 8:30 PM after driving back from my hometown where I spent the day with my family. My boyfriend had just recently moved out because we both decided we needed some time apart. However, he’s still my boyfriend. You would think he would have came over yesterday for Valentine’s Day, and especially after my grandfather just died, right?

Wrong.

I texted him asking him to come to my house and exchange our presents, and also mentioned that I was feeling really down. His response?

“I’m at the bar with Ray”

I thought…Ummmm, ok? So that means you can’t leave and come here?

And that’s exactly what it meant. He never came. Never even asked how my day went given a family member just passed away. I got angry with him and he claimed he didn’t see anything wrong with what he was doing.

I’m seriously so fucking appalled. A year and a half relationship and this is what I get….I’m disgusted with him.

There’s wasn’t even anything to  argue about or discuss after that. He had just given me a dozen different reasons to end that relationship. So I did.