Part 19: Rock Bottom
TW if you're sensitive like me :)
Covid is at its height. The restrictions are tight, more things are getting cancelled by the hour, and my trip that I had planned to go see Manda was cancelled. I had told my co workers at the daycare that I needed a few days off after my breakup, but it closed down anyways. My boss said that she didn't think it would be an easy re-open because a lot of the moms of the kids were upset that you were going to have to be vaccinated to come back in. Because obviously it was our fault that we didn't want their kids to get a virus that was killing people. Anyways, my boss asked me if I wanted to start working at the front desk of the gym. I knew some of the front desk staff. It seemed like a bit of a frat house at times, but it was going to be a bit more weekly hours and a change of scenery. I agreed pretty quickly.
Manda was coming home from BYU. We wished it was under happier circumstances but we were really excited to have her home. I needed my sister when I was feeling so down. She came home and we got to talk and tan and float in our pool. Nobody talks about Gaston, even though it is constantly on my mind.
In April, Manda gets her first boyfriend. She had waited her whole life to get a boyfriend and Ethan didn't disappoint. Ethan doesn't even need a fake name because he is wonderful. Remember that horrible pioneer trek camp? It turns out that good things did come from it, four years later. Because Ethan was in my parents family at trek, and that's where we met him. They started to talk and then it evolved into a relationship. I remember looking out the window, watching her on our back deck FaceTiming Ethan for the first time. I felt so lucky to have her. I liked him a lot. It didn't seem fair that right when my long term relationship tragically ends, a healthy, happy one falls right into her lap. I was happy they were together, but I was not happy that I was alone.
On Easter weekend in April, I was texting one of my friends and I told her that I was thinking about killing myself all night. Things had gotten really dark since my breakup, darker than I led on to my family. I have sat down to write this out a few times but have found this story hard to revisit. I'm having a hard time putting into words what I was feeling. I'm having a hard time thinking about how my parents must have been feeling when they received text messages from my friend with screenshots of our conversation. No parents should ever hear their child say that they don't want to be alive anymore. I wonder how they felt when they called me upstairs to talk about what they had just learned about me. To them, I had been having fun with Manda, hanging out with friends, being silly and they had no reason to think that I was in such a dark place. But when it's night, and I'm alone in bed and I'm left with my thoughts, unanswered questions and lack of closure, things get dark. When things get dark, I don't want to be alive anymore.
My mom and dad sit me down and ask me if there is any reason I could think of why they would want to talk to me. I say, "Maybe because I'm depressed." They tell me about the screenshots they've seen and I burst into tears. I had made it seem like the break-up between Gaston and I was mutual. Partly because I was in denial about what had happened that day and partly because I couldn't stand the thought of someone being sad for me, even though it's okay for your loved ones to feel sad for you. My dad explained that me talking to them about my feelings is a burden gladly borne. They say that obviously I am not feeling enough love from our family, otherwise I wouldn't be feeling that way. There was probably truth to that, but at the time I just didn't think I would ever find love again and the pain was just too much to bear.
An intervention was held on Easter Sunday, a few hours after my mini intervention with Mom and Dad. This time, our whole family is on our back patio. We don't get outside very much because of the pandemic and it's April so it's beautiful outside. My dad has told all of my siblings that I was thinking of killing myself and that they needed to treat me extra special. My Dad's heart is always in the right place, but I was uncomfortable with this much spotlight about an uncomfortable topic. Jill, in her sweet, curious way asked me what made me want to die. I gave some lame answer of, "I'm just really stressed."
That's about all I remember from the intervention. I remember the next day, or maybe the day after, I get a text from a very sad, scared Jill. She's begging me not to hurt myself because she can't imagine her life without me. What have I done to my poor sister? She's now living in fear that I could drop dead at any moment. I approach my dad and tell him that I think it's time I start to see a therapist.
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To get out of my funk, I think it's about time I found a rebound. We'll call him Greg haha. Greg has come home from his mission early because of the pandemic and he wants to make some new friends. I don't remember how I swindle this man's number, but I did and I set up a time for us to hang out. We're going to volunteer at the Bishop's Storehouse together and then go park at the Vancouver temple (in seperate cars because of Covid). The day is so wonderful. For the first time in awhile, I feel happy. I'm convinced that I'm going to get into a relationship with this guy simply because he's cute and because I'm a catch. I forgot to mention before, but before Gaston ended things, I had a bad haircut to end all bad haircuts. My hair was actually too short to touch my earlobes. Let that image sink in. So anyways, when we park at the temple I work up the nerve to ask Greg on an official date. He tells me that he's not looking for anything serious, but agrees to go on a date.
On our date, we go walk around White Rock with his dog. I show up all ready to win him over and make him fall in love with me, but Greg literally says five sentences the entire date. Also, because I am heartbroken and mentally unstable at this point, I talk about Gaston the whole time. I'm not sure if that's why Greg didn't talk or if him not talking made me talk more. Either way, the date lasted all of forty-five minutes because I didn't want to be around Greg for one more second. This guy doesn't like me. But then, the plot thickens. As I'm driving back home from our horrible date, Greg sends me a text that says, "Sorry I was kind of quiet. I had a lot of fun with you and would like to do it again sometime." Men are confusing.
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