Something's gotta give....

I stopped writing on here after my lawyer warned me that things I posted might be brought up in court... Suffice it to say, time has passed and lots of healing has happened. Still, try as I might 2011 has not been the banner year of joy I'd really hope that it would be. In February, I was lucky enough to be introduced to Mr. Sweet. We met the night after I was on the S&R team at a house fire that turned out to be a murder suicide. For that reason alone, I think that I was open to meeting someone who would at least let me vent. He turned out to be a really sweet guy. He was gainfully employed. He had a track record of being a nice guy, a fact substantiated by a mutual friend. He wanted to get married, have kids, and all that nice stuff. Plus, he was attractive, athletic, and rode both Mt and road bikes. From Valentine's Day through mid-April we had a lovely little affair. There were a couple things that weren't perfect, but most of it was simply due to the fact that he was a slow burn type and I'm a firebrand. I was happy again....mostly. When it ended, I wasn't prepared to be dumped. I didn't want it to be over, and I was really hoping that he'd change his mind. But, you know what? No one ever steps away and realizes they were wrong. In fact, after he said goodbye that night, I heard from him one more time.... The contact wasn't particularly wistful. It was simply him being all business, and tying up loose ends. Nevermind, that his friends thought we were great together. Never mind that I'd met his mom, and she liked me. Never mind, that if you looked at us on paper there were more reasons we should work than that we shouldn't.... If there's something missing, you can't make that happen. And, so, I watched him go.... The week after the end of that the county I work for voted on the budget for the fiscal year. As the most recently hired group of Firefighters, I would be among the first to go should they have to enforce layoffs. As it stands, no layoffs... However, we're going to be forced to take 5 furlough days, in addition to cutting 10% of the operating budget. They're simply delaying the inevitable. When October comes, they're going to have to do something more drastic. Simply raising the mill rate then probably won't fix things by that time, so then I'll be gone. The way things are at the moment leaves me wishing they'd simply let me go now. If they fired me I could collect unemployment for a while. I'd take some of the prereq's for nursing, maybe attempt to get into the program for the following Fall. If I could do that then I'd at least have a really decent job by the time I was 36. Finally, the cherry on top of all the great luck I have lately, is my car. After completing my triathlon workout yesterday, that literally took 3hours, I had a car wreck that may or may not have totalled my car. I haven't had a chance to find out yet, as I'm currently sitting here in the station working... It's not all gloom and doom, though. I'm heading to Miami on Tuesday assuming that I make it that far.... It's going to be break well deserved. It's not that I'm not resiliant. I am. I bounce back better than most people that I have ever met. Still, one of the keys to being resilient is time between events. You have to have some space in order to recover and gain perspective. If you don't get that time then it all compounds. Right now, I'm feeling like my head is in a vice grip all the time. I don't sleep very well. I drink too much, and too often, and I've been eating crap everyday. I'm wondering when is something good going to come my way and stay for a while, and I'm getting desperate to find it anywhere I can... I know I'm a happy person. I love to laugh. I love to smile. I love to sweat and work and play and be silly. I want to make someone smile. I want to be held. I want to love my work and my life again... It wasn't that long ago that I had ALL of that. I'm getting to the point that I'm beginning to be afraid that I will never be that girl again. I'll take pleasure in competition, because it calms my heart, but I want to take pleasure in living too! I deserve that. To be content is a right, isn't it? It has to be... If it isn't, then I'm really going to be hard pressed to find a reason to keep on "keeping on".

It isn't any easier...

I have accepted the fact that I am in a state of depression. The only thing that keeps me moving forward is the fact that every three days I am required to show up to my job, and be the best dang recruit I can be. That requires a certain amount of humor from me as well as some dedication and intensity. It's a good thing for me, as the past week has proven that by the end of my 48hour weekend I am good for very little.

Someone asked me if I would've ended things with us if this "event" had never occurred. I'd like to say yes, but I know, barring any violence toward me I'd have gone back over and over in a misguided attempt to "save him from himself". The problem lies in the fact that no one can save an alcoholic except the alcoholic themselves. He'd have had to hit rock bottom somehow. The fact that this was it is an unfortunate consequence... One that in no way comforts me at night when I cannot sleep.

I'd like to ask him if he is capable of telling the whole truth to me or even himself. I want to know if he trusts me enough to let me see ALL of the ugliness that he was keeping from me. I want to tell him how friends of his brother's were afraid of him growing up, and how people wondered if her was on something when he came back from UGA and had gotten so big... I want to ask all these things, and if he is really serious about his drive toward God, or if he is doing it simply because he knows that's what we all want to hear. There are more questions that I'd never allow myself to ask, but that I think of everyday...

Maybe I never will.

I may die....

I cannot sleep. I miss his face. I miss that he called me "hedgehoggie" and told me that we were going to have a beautiful life....

Why did this happen? I have always tried to be so good...

And so, we enter day two. After yesterday I was seriously concerned that I was going to go twelve steps back after that lovely two steps forward.

This morning I woke again after a fitfull night of sleep. Rusty was snoring softly in the living room. That dog love's me, and he might just be the reason that I keep trying to smile. Last night, even though he hadn't eaten all day he wouldn't leave my side. He pushed his head under my hand so I'd pet him. He laid his head on my knee when I wouldn't pay him any mind. That little mutt wants his mommy laughing with him again.

And so, I made the coffee and entered the land of the living for one more day.

After a pot of coffee, and getting all of my stuff together I made it in to work. My work as a firefighter is a salvation. When you live with 8 other people 10 days a month you're going to laugh. You can't help it. My dad always used to say that when life got tough it was the simple act of physical work that could keep you going. The Firestation is living proof of that. There is comfort in coming in here in the morning when it's still dark to start the daily duties. I check out the BLS bag to make sure my medical supplies are all there. I turn on my airpack and put it on to make sure that my facemask fits and seals and that my alarm works. Then I check out the radios to make sure that the batteries are full. Finally, the engine gets a bath, and the act of making it shine helps me to get in the right place for the rest of the day.

And so it goes. Today is a blessing. Good heavy lift in the gym. Long lost friend called to say he was coming to visit, and tonight we just might catch a house fire.... It's all going my way, at least, today.

Welcome to my rebirth...

He was my heart. He was all my life, my friend, my partner and the one who made me realize that up to now I'd never had it right. Of course, as the existence of this blog proves, I didn't have it right this time either.

The madness of the initial incident is over for now. He's locked away. His mother is starting over and learning to live. I am standing here now looking back at 4 months that changed me completely and attempting to figure out what to do now. His recovery will occur behind bars, mine will occur on these pages over the next few months.

I am hoping to use these entries to document the thoughts I can't say out loud. I will write about the sleepless nights, the long runs, the brutal workouts and in the midst of it all, I hope some precious seconds of peace. I don't want to be a sad person. Should anyone read these words, you'll see fairly soon that I have humor and levity deeply rooted in me. That's where I am the most satisfied.

I said my good byes yesterday... It should start to get easier now, shouldn't it?

Last night was dreamless. Red wine helped to put me to sleep, though, so it wasn't particularly restful. When I woke it was with the memory of how he once took care of me when I had the flu. He was so afraid when I blacked out. He waited on my hand and foot. He held me, he carried me to the couch, and he made sure to bring me power aid zero, because he knew me SO well. I'd never have drunk the full calorie gatoraid! He loved me... But he's dead now.

I can't run slowly right now. I can't lift light right now. I flew through 4 miles today, and almost killed my running partner. I am tearing my body apart. Right now, the only way that I am convinced I can move forward is to hurt physically more than emotionally. One of them will drown out the other, I suppose.

So, if you feel like watching a Phoenix rise then you may like this blog. If not, feel free to pass by. Either way, I'll be writing...