“I’ve got to move on and be who I am.”
There was point in my life three weeks ago where I was losing control of my life and I had no idea how I was going to get it back. Or even if I was going to get it back at all.
I was in South Carolina for work and the trip itself started off on the wrong foot. The drive up was horrible. It was about a 5 hour trip (an hour was which was me stuck in rush hour traffic because I left late) of me trying to stop myself from crying. Sometimes I succeeded and sometimes I did not. When I got to my hotel it was the same exact set up as the room where the incident occurred. (Granted, that didn’t become a known problem until later.)
Long story semi shorten, after arriving in South Carolina and feeling like shit, I tried to cheer myself up by doing things I would normally do on a project — find the best place to eat and go there. I arrived on Friday, so I went out on Saturday and it was no help, so I tried again on Sunday and still I was still unsuccessful in trying to get back who I was. Because the person I was becoming was scary. All while this was happening, I deleted Facebook and Messenger and just shut everyone out. Mainly because I couldn’t tell them what was happening, but I also couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t happening. And simply put, I didn’t know what was happening with me.
I felt as if I was in a fog. Like I was trapped in this overwhelming sadness that grabbed hold of me and wouldn’t let go. I was depressed and I was scared and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stop thinking about that night; everything and I mean EVERYTHING reminded me of it and I just kept reliving it over and over again. And I couldn’t reach out to anyone because I didn’t know how to describe how I was feeling and I didn’t feel as if they would understand.
I guess I should also let it be known that before I left for South Carolina I had asked a group of my friends if they would be interested in renting a house for a weekend at a lake to celebrate my birthday (see previous post). So my emotional state was already shattered before going.
Anyway, I had a call with my friends and they let me know that they were worried about me and that they would be there to listen no matter what and that I should never feel like I am burdening them or that they don’t have time for be. The call was helpful and a friend offered for me to come visit, so I bought a ticket to Houston shortly thereafter the conversation. But, when I called her a few days later and let her know that I was coming right when the project was over (drive home Friday evening, fly out Saturday morning) I was also in another fog, I was eating at a restaurant and didn’t want to leave. I was sitting at the bar just not caring about my surrounding and also on the verge of tears. It took me so long to bring myself to actually leaving.
When I called her, I let her know that I wasn’t feeling like myself and that I didn’t know how the upcoming weekend with her in Texas was going to be like. I did say that I wanted to talk about it when I got there, but we never did. I never brought it up and she never asked. The main reason I didn’t bring it up was because I didn’t want to bring the mood down. I was happy and enjoying myself and I didn’t want that to stop.
I got back home last Wednesday and I haven’t had a bad day since. Maybe it’s because I am home, or maybe it’s because I am done with feeling that feeling. I never want to go back there. Yes, there are still times were I think about what happened and get flashbacks, but I don’t let it overwhelm me anymore. Well, at least for now I am stopping it from doing so.
My friends were concerned about how much I was travelling and how I was keeping myself busy and distracted from it, and they were concerned for my well being when I didn’t have anything to distract me. Well for the next two weeks I have no travel plans, so we shall see. I am home and I am back with the Huxtables (the family I care for) and I am happy. I am starting to revise my Personal Statement and writing a Diversity statement and my recommender are on board. Also, I have to do some online training before I leave for Camp in a few weeks. So, I am keeping busy, but at least I’ll be at home.
I feel like it’s time for me to move on and stop dwelling in the past. I know I can’t pretend like it never happened, I get that. But, I also just don’t want to talk about it anymore. Because, now I am fine and I don’t want to be not fine again.