No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Thursday, 2 July 2015

Looking For Love In All The Wrong Places

People have been rereading my blog and commenting, making me reread my blog and prompting me to actually write something

6 weeks ago I ended up in hospital.  I disappeared for a few days, and my parents eventually tracked me down,  turned up, got me discharged and took me home.
Not home.  Their home.
A place I will always have a bed, for sure, but it is not my home, I didn't grow up there, I've barely slept 2 weeks worth of nights there combined, and it's in the country.

It was the worst possible place I could be.  I barely spoke to them, I beat my hands against the backseats of my car as I was taken home because the voices in my head were screaming so loudly.  When I finally slept, I had bad dreams, I woke up early and immediately asked to be allowed to go home.  My home.

A few days later I was staying with a good friend and #superaggressivefb.  It was probably the first major incident of my mental state he's had to deal with, at least directly.

And so, very quietly and calmly, at one moment we were alone, he simply said: "And next time, you will call me."
I grumbled non-commitantly.
"The next time, you WILL call me."
"Fine." I whisper, resignedly adding him to the mental list of people to inform in the first instance after the event.
"So next time, it won't be your parents picking you up, it will be me and you'll come here."

20 different thought streams fire off in my head at once.  Huge senses of anger and relief.  The imagined conversation between my friend and #superaggressivefb where he explains how my parents are a trigger.  Irritation that #superaggressivefb knows me so well already as to use my own though process against me.  Frustration.  At him.  At myself.  At my friend.

...#superaggressivefb smirks.  That smirk that he knows all of the above has passed through my mind in a heartbeat.  The smirk that makes me want to see him bleeding on the floor in front of me.

"I will." I say, conciliatory, lacking the grit of teeth my previous response had.

It was the moment that he went from someone I was becoming really good friends with, to getting catapulted into the upper echelons of my trust.  However he knows it and uses it, someone who can gauge me that well is fully capable of walk through every defence I have if they so choose to do so, so I inevitably trust them when implicitly when they demonstrate only a judicious application of this skill.  
(As an aside, the fact that #superaggressivefb has this total level of trust from me, and yet still instils fear and uncertainty when he asks me if I'm sure before he hits me, is the exact thing that turns me on the most about him.
It was also the moment I realised not only was #superaggressivefb a good friend, he was a support network I didn't even know I had.

This weekend I ended up in hospital.  Through my own stupidity more than anything else.  And waiting there, when I awoke, was #superaggressivefb and my other friend.  They took me home.  To #superaggressivefb's home.  They took care of me.  And then they made sure it didn't ruin my weekend.   I remember giving their names as my emergency contacts in the ambulance, but it took me until this afternoon to realise that I didn't have to think who I'd contact, I was just asked and those were the two names instantly in my head.

10 weeks ago I was struggling to rebuild the close support network I'd surrounded myself with over 2 years and lost all in one week.
Now I have the first block to it.

I still don't have my reason.  I have something keeping me interested however, something that for now, I choose to keep very personal.  I'm angry more days than I'm happy.  I bailed midway through a friend's birthday this weekend because I couldn't handle that much social interaction.  Work continues to help distract me from my problems, and exacerbate them as everything bottlenecks at me.  Today is a struggle and time just stretches on and on as the clock refuses to budge.  But it's perversely reassuring to know that when it all goes wrong, I won't be so alone next time, there'll be someone there beside me.

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