Goodbye Mister Big

Mister Big took me on two moor dates after the comedy club. He picked me up from work one night and we went to have beers. Then he took me out the 4^th of July. The nigh he picked me up from work my mother was in the hospital and I figured I would take a chance and spend some time with Big.

The place was a dud but it was not his fault we sat down and ordered and in true form I ordered what I could afford although he was paying, French fries and beer. I ate a good portion of fries and had two beers. We chatted and I told him about my interesting family and how it operated. He seemed happy to get the little bit of information.

He then told me how his fish tacos were a letdown for 18 bucks he did however finish them. When he asked how my fries were I offered him some and he practically finished them. I had intended to take them home, would have made a great midnight snack but that pipe dream was gone, and he was definitely paying now.

The fourth of July, I had a lot going on a cousin giving birth, another in the hospital for seizures and my mother at home recovering from pneumonia. I told big that I would have to wait until my mom was asleep because I did not feel right leaving her home alone.

He came and picked me up and we decided to go to the same place we met, Valanni. We ordered similar to before except in the middle of eating I got a text that my G-d daughter was born. The night was going to be about me.

I looked up from munching only to notice that “The Waiter” was making his way over. Still ripped and fine as ever I gave him a hug and introduced him to me date we quickly caught up and he was on his way to iCandy I rolled the thought over in my head, “Would big enjoy iCandy?”

Big and I joked about music and our gap in ages and before I knew David showed with two of his lesbian friends. Big looked puzzled and so I decided to tell him the story of how I met Dan and David.

Food and a few drinks later we decided to call it a night. Once home I realized it was too early to be back in the house and so a few text later I was back out.

A few days later my mother was back in the hospital and I got a text from big that I make no effort and it seems like I am not interested. I wanted to respond, “The only thing that is interesting is your money.” But instead I told him how I was the only taking care of my mother and that combined with my work schedule makes it difficult to keep in touch with a man like him.

Big is typically going to bed when I am on the first bus home from work. He has already been working for several hours when I am getting out of bed, and the only thing this man seemed to talk about how he is shopping for car for his daughter or the fact that he can’t stay in his condo because there is no AC.

A week later I got caught, he made a fake a4a profile and messaged me. The guy was a hot muscled 24 year old. I knew I would have a better chance having a family with a younger guy closer to my age than Big who already had it and never bothered to ask if I wanted it. So I kept all my options open there were no talks or exclusivity, we had not had sex, and we had not talked about where we saw things going.

He was upset and told me that while I was a nice guy and did not seem interested enough and that he did not appreciate me still being on a4a, he had been through it before and so happy hunting. I failed to find a reason to respond. 

Mister Big, Lamb, Helium

You can never judge a book by its cover or who you are going to fall in love with for that matter. I immediately decided that if I was to get a good read on Mister Big that I would have to go on a second date. And so what was supposed to be a stressful adjustment to my Friday plans turned into a much needed escape.

Big decided to make plans at his favorite restaurant Zahav an Israeli restaurant in Old City. I had mentioned how Lamb was my favorite meat and immediately he knew I would love the place. It was decided that our second date would be to Zahav and then Helium night club.

I had given him the all clear for the Next Friday but it turned into that Friday, a miscommunication. After talking to a friend at work it was decided that if I was going to be into Mister Big then I needed to find out sooner rather than later and so I went with the flow.

Friday was an early day, G-d father duty and then running home to get dressed for the date. In true form the outfit that was planned hand to be changed. As I was checking the shirt for wrinkles I noticed spots and had to pick what turned out to be a better option, my teal blue shirt from express. It always got compliments.

I met Big at the restaurant and we both were running late and when we walked in I soon learned that Big was not just a nick name. He was immediately recognized by managers and a few of the wait staff. He told me how he sometimes brought clients here from work and it was apparent that his patronage was not just welcomed but enjoyed. The waitress was enthusiastic about making recommendations and even added some comps so that I could try some things that we decided we would save for a future visit.

There were moments where I felt left out but soon realized that going with the flow and not having expectations yielded for a more enjoyable time. From trying duck hearts to going out with him on his smoke breaks the night was just one happy moment after the other.

I was warned beforehand that it was going to be a lot of food but that was an understatement. By the time the lamb arrived I was stuffing the food in but it was well worth it. I thought we were at the end but there was still desert and that was awesome as well a type of ice cream sandwich with coca powder then a desert with shredded filo dough and berries accompanied by a French press. I was on cloud nine if the night had ended there I would have been more than content but it was far from over.

We then went to Helium comedy club where none stop laughs were accompanied by cocktails. The end result was a man who could not stop smiling and left me wanting to break the rules of proper courtship. I was given a ride home and a good, good night kiss.

I walked in the door thinking, “Am I really dating the gay Mister Big?” 

Mister Big?

After dealing with a few bad dates and time wasters I decided to venture out and take a walk on the wild side. He messaged me on A4A like so many men have done before except he had actually messaged me before. This time we decided to meet. He offered to treat me to happy hour at Valanni.

The day of our date it was raining and we both ended up being late I was more late than he was. When I arrived he was everything I imagined, tall and handsome but older. He was every bit of a gentleman. We talked about my mother and what was going on with her and then we talked about our jobs and small things like the weather. While talking about his job he explained how his friends said he looked like Mister Big from Sex and the City. I did not see the resemblance but when picturing him in a suit I could see how he could fit the roll.

Later he explained he was a smoker and asked me to join him outside. I found it odd that he would ask me to join him for his cigarette but I figured he was paying and because he insisted I obliged. It was outside that we began to talk about my smoking history. I told him how I had quit several months ago and he talked about how he has tried every way to quit and nothing worked.

The night went on and I just found there not to be any spark. Here I am on a date with a man who is literally 20 years older than me, divorced from his wife, has a 17 year old daughter, a bad 5 year gay relationship and smokes.

Before I knew it he was drunk, the bartender and I both were shocked that he finished an entire bottle of vodka by himself. He denied it but when the check arrived it was evident that this 6’4 man definitely drank a whole bottle. I had to figure out the tip for him. When he went to the bathroom our bartender asked if it was our first date and I told her it was. To which she replied, “He is good sugar daddy material.” I laughed it off but that was exactly it I could not see him as more than a sugar daddy and that was unattractive. He made several comments throughout the night about how he makes a lot of money and could see his daughter and I shopping while he carried the bags.

As we walked out he handed me flowers. He was blatantly drunk and remembered that when he was sober he bought me flowers. I felt completely emasculated it’s one thing to by drinks and appetizers it’s another to just apply Hetero-normatives.

I gave him a pass and told him I would go on a second date with him. I figured he was not used to dating men or was aware of proper etiquette. He being too drunk meant that I had to take SEPTA home, and so I did, carrying a small bouquet of pink and yellow tea roses. 

Single And Happy . . . Finally!!!

What is wrong with being single? Anyone alive can name more than a few people who are unhappily attached. There are those who are in relationship but hardly see one another, they just like having the title. There are those who are in a relationship but they are always fighting, breaking up means having to look for someone new. Then there are those who are always dating for the fear of being alone or the ones who keep retrying things with their exes. The truth in it all is if you are unhappy in your relationship, the problem is you.

Choosing to be single teaches a person a major valuable lesson, “I control my own happiness.” The advice that I have given to all my friends is, the moment you begin enjoying life with just you, someone will come along to try and ruin it.  I say it in jest but the truth is the moment you stop looking for love is the moment it finds you. Every major relationship I had, Mister M, Doctor MeTo, Mister Cocky all began when I decided to willfully reject a relationship, but my hormones got the best of me and I allowed myself into some bad situations. But I digress.

The point all in all is that being single allows one the opportunity that is essential for living happily. It allows you to figure out you, to figure out what you want in a partner, to figure out how to enjoy you and eventually figure out how you enjoy others.

Dating yourself, it may seem crazy but how can you ask someone to spend the rest of their live with you if you can’t spend time with just you. Is there anything wrong with going to the movies by yourself, or out to dinner, or to go to a bar and have a drink? I have done it and once you get past, “OMG others are judging me,” you begin to have a great time.

After you get used to spending time alone in public you can start to weed through your friends. Friends who judge more than they support or encourage are absolutely USELESS. Get rid of them even if it means you end up having to make all new friends. Once you find a friend or two who are willing to be supportive, fun and ask only for the same in return, you have learned how to pick useful people. Sure you will find people who are fun and that you enjoy spending a night out with but recognize them for who they are don’t try to make them what they are not. The time will come when you will stop seeing them or they piss you off and you will just shrug them away, easy come easy go if they are meant to be in your life then it will work out so that they stay.

This may all seem like a lot of work and it is and it takes time but once you start to enjoy yourself on the solo the rest will come naturally. You will naturally protect yourself. You will start to see people approaching and notice that they have something in there life that you do not want in yours and will walk away.

It took me awhile but I would have to say I finally got to the point where I was done with letting any and everybody in my life right around Thanksgiving. Having just broken up with Mister Cocky, MeTo and I were giving friendship and honest try. Things were going well until I noticed it was a week since he responded to my last text and then when I would try to call he would reject it. I had a question for him and it hurt that without warning he was ignoring me again. So I gave up on him. I was doing fine with it all until one night while talking to my mother I got a reminder on my phone about our anniversary, It would had been 5 years and I tried to text and call and he still refused to respond. So I wrote about it and went to bed.

Since then I have found better outlets for dealing with reoccurring past hurts than reaching out to those who are only looking out for themselves.

My friends have not changed much Niki, Dave, Dan, Jaiye, Jay, GiGi and most recently a guy I met at work who is the white straight version of myself. My exes are just that exes, X-ed out of my day to day life with little reason to talk about them.

I have way too much family and a strong cast of friends to spend any real serious time on finding a boyfriend. When it is meant to happen it will happen. But I do however take pleasure in the fact that all my exes are unhappily single where I am ecstatic and enjoying every little bit of life, including the fact that I do not have a man . . . yet. 

What Happens There Stays There ???

Several weeks after returning to Philly I was harassed on Facebook because of something on Grindr. Apparently my screen name of Gallifreyan with the headline of, “good little bottom, no hookups,” is controversial.

I have two separate Facebook accounts one for my blog and on for the closest of friends and family. My mother is a friend on my family account and I do not post things that are pertaining to who I am dating or what she refers to as my gay life. My friends are all well aware of this. But this one particular friend decided to take a screen shot of my Grindr account and post it on my wall, my other friend who knows that hardships I faced coming out, because he was my boyfriend at the time, decided to comment and make merry of it. When I called the two of them out on it instead of realizing the trouble they could have caused me and apologize I was harassed for being upset and not having an account that they approved of.

Back and forth we went until he finally admitted to the fact that he did not like how I acted when I met his mother while I was in Vegas.

Several weeks later several conversations and jokes he is bringing up something that could have been dealt with while I was still in Vegas. I decided to hold my ground if this was the disrespect I was going to get from him, then I was not budging no matter how it might destroy my friendship.

He refused to see things my way failed to acknowledge the fact that he said thing to upset me while I was in Vegas, that he failed to even attempt to include me in his circle during the super bowl and that even after I confronted him on it all he made light of it all and dismissed it.

When he decided to become judgmental of the progress I had made with depression I told him he had no right especially not knowing the kind of day I had. I finally dismissed him and it was weeks before we spoke again. 

Trouble in Las Vegas

I can honestly say that I was warned. Everyone who I told about my vacation and who I was going to stay with all made that face. The one that says, “Something is going to happen.” Some expressed concern. I was told that we were going to have sex, some said a fight, others smiled and hoped for us to reunite but I was not prepared for what was to actually happen.

I honestly thought that Mister M and I had it all figured out. I honestly thought that MeTo was gone for sure but it would seem that when it rains it pours. M and I were on our way to the Wicked Spoon Buffet for brunch. I was decked out in my brand new black and white number complete with coordinating hat. I was excited until I looked at my phone.

“Hey Victor its (blank), how are you.”

I responded with “(Blank) who?”

“Your ex, how are you?”

My stomach sank, I did not want to deal with this during my vacation. I wanted to throw my phone away and pretend that I never saw it but my emotions got the best of me. Before I knew it my heart was feeling all kinds of things and my mind was swimming with responses. I wanted to curse him out, tell him how poorly I thought of him but I composed myself and with one word answers I got him to tell me that he was listening to Rihanna and Beyoncé and it made him think of me. All the hurt that I thought I had moved passed was back.

Soon I stopped responding and went on to explore the Vegas strip with Mister M. it was a fun night even after I went to meet his mother and stepfather. From a bar to their house it was a good time getting to know M’s mother but soon I felt like a third wheel when stepdad went off to do his own thing and M and his mother decided to have a heart to heart. It felt awkward to listen so I watched the movie that was playing until it stopped, I assumed that the disk just got stuck. I sipped my drink in silence until Mom bid us a good night and M and I were left alone.

I was asked if I wanted to spend the night and I expressed that I had nothing to change into. I was tired and just wanted to go to sleep. I had felt that way for over an hour and was patiently waiting for the moment where M would tell his mom we would see her the next day at the Super Bowl party. There was no communication, M would make snippy comments about how I was not used to the climate, he then asked me to go outside because he wanted to show me something, I expressed that I wanted to stay in because it was cold, he insisted he wanted to show me something so I played along. Then I was told a cab was coming so we went to wait in the front of the house. I had not eaten since brunch and his mother made it clear that there was nothing to eat in the house. I was freezing I had not planned on being out this late I only had a vest and It was not enough.

I finally had it, I told M that he needed to communicate with me, I was in his circle and some how expected to navigate on my own, I did not know how his family operated and I was frustrated and annoyed. He understood and we decided to sleep over.

In typically fashion we got in bed and began to cuddle, I kissed his hand to express that we were cool and he thanked me. He then said that he was shocked that I spoke up and that he liked it. I expressed that he was not used to the new Victor and he then retorted that, “I knew it was always in there or you would not be here right now.” He then expressed that he was not happy that I said I would figure Vegas out in my one week stay because it took him quite a while.

It was typical Victor and M, we have a fight or misunderstanding and we made up only for him to take a shot at me. I had originally told M that I was going to figure out the busses because I could not relay on him every day to give me a ride everywhere but somehow it was me being critical. And what did he mean buy me being here? As fucked up as our relationship is was there more to it than just friendship? The last time we saw each other we had a similar conversation.

In the mist of all of this we went from cuddling to him saying that we should probably not cuddle, we made out and he then told me that he was not going to have sex with me in his mother’s house and that I had gotten better at kissing. Last I checked I was always a good kisser and why the hell is he being so critical? Why could he not just leave well enough alone? The next day he asked if anything was wrong and I told him no, he then asked why I was being so bitchy. So now because I am quiet I am a bitch?

When I told him that between what he said and MeTo trying to get back in my life my head and heart was fucked up. I could not believe that he was still so critical of me despite how greatly I have grown and how stable my life was. And I felt as though my reason for still being around was not for friendship.

I looked as if he and MeTo both were in that classic case of “I don’t want you but I want someone like you.” The truth of the matter is, it doesn’t exist I am the only me and there is no guy who comes close. I am tired of being held on the back burner and treated as if I am great one day and not good enough the next. MeTo keeps confusing his emotions head and not considering how his actions affect me or how I will feel about him and M is the same case.

I want to be done with MeTo walking away from me and ignoring me for moths and then coming back as if nothing happened, it’s not something I will stand for. And as for M I am still in Vegas and I am staying with him but I no longer see him like I once did I don’t feel there is anything attracting me to him and one big thing he made evident is that there is a lot about me he does not know, he didn’t even know my dad passed away. So it may be time to seriously consider that while MeTo and M are two of my greatest loves it might be true to say that neither of them are the one or fit for friendship with a man of my caliber  

Again with Sex and the City?

When I hit 22 I became obsessed with Sex and the city. You can go back and read my blog and trust me when I say you will lose count of the plethora of references to sex and the city. It was not until last year that I gave up on the whole hunt for mister big. I had come to terms that Doctor MeTo was just who he was and not Aiden and that Mister M was just who he was, not a Mister Big.

For years It had drove me crazy hoping to find Mister Right, the man who would be there for me and thinking that it was someone I had already dated only created problems where they did not exist. The New Year brought a new awakening. Doctor MeTo in short was the biggest disappointment and would always be remembered as such and Mister M was a true friend. There were other Exes such as Eddy and Mister Cocky and Lou who had taken their places in my life.

Eddy Was the friend who would never let me go, Mister Cocky was a waste of time and Lou is another blessing, he is a best friend.

MeTo is out of my life he decided to cut me out for the last time and so I blocked him from ever being able to contact me. Cocky still has no clue as to what he wants, he claims he wants to be friends but cannot see me in person because of his sexual attraction to me. Whenever I talk to him on the phone it always turns into him wanting another chance and begging me to have sex with him to see if we have feelings for one another. I have decided to cut off communication with him as well.

As for Eddy he is still dealing with cancer and wants us to try and be in a relationship but I just cannot see it ever working. We are far too different and he is way too young. Lou and I are planning to move in together around April or May.

Ultimately my plan is to continue working, go on as many trips to as many different places as I can then pick the one that I have the most love for and move. I am over looking for love in Philadelphia. One night I was talking to Lou and he mentioned how a certain relationship still had traces of comparison to Big and Carrie. I was disappointed, I don’t want to be able to compare my life or the people in it to anyone in some show or novel. In my early twenties my friends and I did it all the time from Noah’s ARC and Sex and the City to Queer As Folk and Real Housewives of Atlanta. It was exhausting and gave us all warped images of reality.

Sometimes you do get the classic happy ending where the two of you realize that all the time you loved each other and were meant to be but more often than not you fall for someone else that you thought you would never fall for and end up having a life better than you had imagined. The key to it all is you have to always let go of the past and stop forcing things to happen. Carrie only got Big after she decided to let go of New York and the idea of finding her one true love there.

Great things happen when you open your heart to the possibility that there is something better for you than you can comprehend. True happiness is always beyond comprehension. We create in our heads these scenarios where we will be happy, we imagine how prince charming or mister right will come along, what he will be wearing and we shut out the possibility that we are wrong. The result is a life of searching when several times over we have come in contact with the person or on several occasions we would have met the one had we been more apt to move on from our current situation.

A lot can be said for television it is always entertaining and inspired by real life but some of the most entertaining moments in our lives are boring to others. Here I am sitting in Las Vegas in the apartment of Mister M playing out the same scenario as always, except this time I recognize it for what it is, this is our friendship this is how we operate. I cannot hold out in hopes that he will come to me one day and tell me I am the one. I have to accept that the future is the future and I must live my life recognizing that I have no clue what is going to happen. All I can do is ensure that I am happy in my present.

My early twenties have taught me a lot and made for some entertaining blogging but 30 is not far off and I feel as though I have not lived my life because I have always been searching for love, promising myself that the fun part of my life will begin once I have met my husband but I have to ask myself, will I ever find a husband? I have to enjoy the now and leave the future in the future. MeTo was a basket that carried a lot of my eggs and that basket had holes and eventually it fell out of my life. No matter how close someone gets to me I will always remember how badly I felt when he toyed with my heart like a cat with a mouse. I can never allow myself to wallow in such emotional tumultuousness I must look out for myself and remember that if I cannot keep myself happy then I cannot expect anyone else to do it for me and I will not be able to make anyone else happy. If I am happy as a single person then there is no need to rush and find love no matter how small or Big. 

Should Have Been 5

Today would have marked the 5 year anniversary of Doctor Meto and me. I should feel nothing but I do in fact feel something. I would love nothing more than to say while Meto and I did not work out that we were still friends who realize while we are not meant for one another we do have respect and love to the point that were are in some capacity still friends.

For weeks I have been going over it in my head, why the sudden distance, why the ignored phone calls and text? I get angry that for the past two years he would confess his love and pull me in only to push me away and break my heart over and over. I would pray and hope each time would be different, that at some point he would just come to me and say, “It’s time that we just be friends,” or “Let’s stop playing around and meet on this day at this time to discuss us.” But no such conversation ever came.

I try to blame it all on him or blame it on some defect, I try to vilify him and it is difficult because if I make him out to be a villain then what does that make me? I would be the man who dated a villain, I would be a fool who saw a devil as an angel. 

I came out of 2013 stronger and healthier than I went in but the whole time my heart was broken. Meto said he cared and all I wanted was to reach out and feel that he was there but each time I was met with distance.

I do not hate Meto and I do not wish him ill, I would love for us to be friend’s distant friends as it would be but still friends, we used to live together and we were engaged to be married, we made many happy memories with his family and our friends. My question to anyone reading is, “Does it matter, should I let it all go as just one big misstate?”

My Question to Meto, “Did you ever really love me, did you mean what you said, and do you respect me as a person?” 

Broken Trust (Preview)

You know so many men claim to want to find love and settle down. The find the person they claim to be the right fit and give the impression to be falling hard. We have all heard the story of the guy who seemed like he was the one only to turn around and walk away with someone else, cheated, or began acting uninterested and when called on it made it seem like the other person was needy, overbearing, had trust issues, and was too much to deal with. 

Actions speak louder than words don't be all hot and heavy and then do a 180 its men like you that make it bad for all the good ones. I think its time for a game changer. I no longer trust anyone i am dating and shall precede with my life as such. Trust is something one has to earn and once earned if you lose it don't expect to get it back.

Mr, cocky has broken my trust and when given a second chance he played games. My friends are screaming for me to seek vengeance. it just might be time for Mr. Cocky to meet Titus Sheldon. 

My Love Life

"Stop Me"

(Mark Ronson feat. Daniel Merriweather)

Stop me, oh, stop me

Stop me if you think that you've

Heard this one before

Stop me, oh, stop me

Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before

Nothing's changed

I still love you, oh, I still love you

...Only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love

I was delayed, I was way-laid

An emergency stop

I saw the last ten seconds of life

I crashed down on the crossbar

And the pain was enough to make

A shy, bald, Buddhist reflect

And plan a mass murder

Who said lied I'd to her ?

Oh, who said I'd lied because I never ? I never !

Who said I'd lied because I never ?

I was detained, I was restrained

And broke my knee

And broke my spleen

(and then he really laid into me)

Friday night in Out-patients

Who said I'd lied to her ?

Oh, who said I'd lied ? - because I never, I never

Who said I'd lied ? - because I never

Oh, so I drank one

It became four

And when I fell on the floor ...

...I drank more

Stop me, oh, stop me

Stop me if you think that you've

Heard this one before

Stop me, oh, stop me

Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before

Nothing's changed

I still love you, oh, I still love you

...Only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love

Set free me why don't you

get out my life why don't you

Cause you don't really love me, no

You just keep my hanging on

Set me free why don't you girl

get out my life why don't you babe

Cause you don't really love me, no, no

You just keep my hanging on

My Dirty Little Secret.

Many say that it is a disgusting habit, and I being an “off and on” smoker now for 8 years have my own opinions. But the truth of the matter is that different people smoke for different reasons. Most people are honestly addicted to nicotine while others simply cannot let go of the repetitious behavior that is the act of smoking. Some people smoke so infrequently that they still get that high with every cigarette while others do it for social reasons.

Tobacco companies know all the different reasons people smoke and are doing all they can to see to it that no matter how high the taxes get on a pack of smokes, people will want to feel the need to keep lighting up.

At birth I was thrust into a world where I would have a permanent memory of the havoc that cigarette abuse can cause to a person. My grandfather was already on a respirator and confined to bed with emphysema. My mother and grandmother explained as soon as they thought I would understand that pop pop was in his condition because he smoked cigarettes.

I fell in love with my grandfather, he was such a sweet and kind hearted man that to this day when you mention him people are quick to share a story of how awesome he was. I would sit in his room and we would talk for hours or watch TV. He loved the company and I just loved being around him. He would sometimes slip me candy before dinner and tell me not to tell my grandmother, she was often in the kitchen cooking at the time.

It was the loss of my grandfather that began my long road to understanding death. I remember the day he went into the hospital and how much I wanted to go visit. I remember the bowls of cereal he would send home with my mother so that I would know he was thinking of me. I also remember the night that I was taken with my sister to my paternal grandmother’s because my pop pop had passed away. I was barely four and lost my first best friend.

At his funeral my uncle lifted me up and told me to say, “Bye pop pop.” I did as instructed knowing that it was the last time I would be able to ever see him. I did not know what death was but I knew at that moment Pop Pop was gone. At the internment I remember nothing else but watching them lower his silver casket into the ground. The lesson my family all took from this was that we should never smoke.

I was 20 years old and living in my first apartment and the peer pressure was astounding. When I was 18 I had smoked a cigarette at a concert and hated it. Now I was told about the joys of pot and cigars. I took to trying cigars and then cigarillos which then lead to me trying Marlboro’s then Newport 100’s. My work mom smoked 100’s because on her smoke break it took less time to smoke a half a 100 than it did a full short and half a 100’s gave just the right amount of nicotine she needed.

For several years I smoked off and on. I would quit cold turkey and be fine for sometimes more than a year. Then I would start stress smoking which would be so sporadic that most people did not even know I smoked.  While living with MeTo I managed to quit for over two years only smoking when with friends in Philly on an extremely rare occasion.

Then I moved back to Philly and hit with the stress of JR and MeTo I began smoking again. The following January I found a reason to quit cold turkey and did with much success until I was walking from the Couch Tomato Café. I was having a bad day I had to move and so I stopped into CVS and instead of ordering my old friend Newport I got what started it all, Marlboro Red 100’s. Just goes to show you I like most things in my life to be red.

I labeled myself a stress smoker and people only got to see me smoke if I was in a stressful situation and then I learned to handle stress in a different way so I stopped smoking.  

It was this past June while in MCES that I started smoking again, every friend that I made was a smoker and so on smoke breaks I would join them in the smoke room and light one up. Once out I went right for the emergency stress pack I had stashed away and have been smoking ever since. Every time I get to the last cigarette I take my time about replacing the pack in hopes to quit but something happens and I run to the Rite Aid at work or the Korean near home and buy another pack.

One time I had decided I was done and then I went off my meds and I became so stressed and angry that I wanted just one which led to a new pack. Then there was the weekend MeTo and I started talking again and I was beginning to think he was not being honest and was seeing other people so I figured I would buy a pack to get me through the weekend, I did not want to buy them but every time a bad though would cross my mind about MeTo I would light up and feel a lot better.

For me I still get that high occasionally and the recent infrequency is making me consider quitting but this time is the hardest. I tried going cold turkey like all the times before but my will power is not there. I tried switching brands to something I hated but it beat NOT smoking. I don’t know if it is the meds or the fact that I honestly have trouble with dealing with stress but the motion of lighting and taking drag after drag is what has got me hooked, it is the entire art of smoking that soothes me and calms me down. I want to quit but I am finding it hard to align everything in my mind to do it.

I remember my Pop Pop and I don’t want anyone in my family to go through that and I don’t want to suffer the way he did. I have the motivation but I look at my other grandmother who has smoked all her life and at 74 is still going strong and that puts doubt in my mind as far as health reasons. I know G-d does not want me to smoke, it is polluting his temple, smoking also speeds the aging process and I am too vain to allow that to happen.

They say there is a right time for everything and that a sigh will come. Once it was so I could date anyone I wanted but it’s just me so I guess this is me asking G-d, “Help!”  

I Asked for a Blessing.

It was my day off from the job that pays the bills and I woke with a bad headache and groggy. I thought nothing of it as I took some ibuprofen and went back to bed to wait for it to kick in but it was the start to a not so good day.

I had a lot that needed to be taken care of. I had to make phone calls for my second job and I had to make some personal calls regarding my computer and medication. I was only able to make a few calls for my second job as the phone call with tech support and my medication took much more of my time than I had intended.

When all was said and done I would have to be without my laptop for a week and I would have to go a few more days without my medication. I then got a call saying that a warrant would be placed for my arrest due to an unpaid payday loan from 2009. I was pissed as the woman on the phone was nasty and unwilling to work with me to resolve the issue outside of court.

I went to the free clinic to see about having my prescription moved to them because I would not be able to see a psychologist until September.  I was told that on my day off I would have to come in for a walk in appointment and see what could be done then. Feeling defeated by the day I went home.

I made a Facebook status update about how the day was rough and that I was hoping G-d would send me something amazing. It was a few minutes before I decided to log into my computer but when I did there it was, a message from Wanita. I had been planning to send her a letter hopping that she lived in the same place. We had lost touch around the time I moved back to Philly and I really missed her.

Wanita, I used to call her work mom, and I used to work together. I met her when I was 19 at my first full time job and I soon began working side by side with her. We were as thick as thieves, she had a son older than me and we became so close that she became my mother when my birth mother was not around. She taught me so much about how to carry myself at work and cover my ass and then went on to teach me about how I should carry myself when I go out with friends and how a good friend should treat you.  The lessons went on and on and she was right there for me when I turned 21 and when I came out of the closet.

She protected me as if I was her own and around her I could not have felt any safer. I admired here to the point that when I needed advice it was either her, my aunt or my own mother that I asked for advice and there was no other word on the matter.

In the modern world of constant cell phone upgrades I lost her number and she lost mine. But the day came when I really needed a blessing from G-d and so I told him and he sent me her number. I wasted no time in calling her and the joy we shared in hearing one another’s voices brought tears of joy to my eyes. I wasted no time in planning a time for us to hang out and gave her my first available slot. We have so much to catch up on and we both are looking forward to Friday.

Words cannot express the joy I have that G-d has brought back to me one of the greatest people he has ever placed in my life and I will not let her get lost in the mess of life again. 

My Last Post . . . On Depression.

There is a lot about depression that many people do not seem to understand. The most major thing that people fail to realize is that it is different for different people. For many people they ignore the feeling because it feels so normal that they just adjust to it, or so they think they adjust to it. It is the moment that a person thinks they are adjusting that they are at the point where they really need help. For me I hid it so well and had withdrawn in such a manner that I felt I was just going to live the way I was without anyone ever noticing.

The thoughts in my head became so strong that trying to ignore them was normal; it was a part of my day to day. There was no feeling of worthlessness just the feeling of how do I keep others from noticing that I am not happy. It became so hard to pretend that work was double hard. I had to remember how the normal me acted in certain situations and then precede to fake emotions and pretend I was the person I was before things got bad.

This all went on until my brain just could not take the extra effort anymore and was looking for a way, anyway, to make it all stop. So I got the idea of suicide, had I not used writing to express my sadness and tell my friends, family and the man I hoped to be the last man I ever loved, that I wanted to end it all, it would have certainly all stopped for good. I needed to be sure that it was what I wanted to do and so I went to work and sure enough, as the day went on I was convinced it was the right thing.

If it had not been for my mother checking her email before I thought she would, I would not be around to write about the ordeal that I had to undergo to not only understand what I was dealing with but the severity and then how to manage it.

Medication and a strong support system is what I was missing in my life. It turned out I had it all backwards and to this day I have to live with the hurt of when I realized that some people just do not care as much as they say they do.

The thing about medications is that you cannot just stop; I know I tried it and learned the hard way. When my medication ran out withdrawal began almost immediately. First I suffered from insomnia and then a total loss of appetite even when I sat down to eat I couldn’t and when I laid down to sleep my mind would race and my body would ach to be doing something more active. One would think that I would have used the time to be more productive but I could not, no matter how hard I tried. The thoughts got worse and worse.

At my lowest point I remember a wide range of emotions happening in rapid succession. I would experience fear for no obvious reason, anger, rage, sadness, hurt, despair, loneliness, I would try to attribute some cause to how I was feeling, try to pinpoint a why other than something being wrong with me but none of it made since and all I could do was sit and think. I was strapped in and the rollercoaster had begun to move and no matter how loud I screamed the rid would not stop.

For several days I dealt with this terrifying experience, I wanted to talk to someone but when I tried I could not form the words to say “Help.” I tried to explain what I was dealing with to my aunt and mother but for fear of over worrying them I simply told them I was not sleeping. It was the truth but not the whole truth. I wanted to talk to someone who I could feel would simply listen without trying to, “Fix me.” But I felt there was no one. I could never get the right people on the phone at the right time or they would try to have the conversation with me via text and one of my other emotions would take over and would come across as moody, or mean, or simply distant.

A part of me was screaming and screaming loud, I knew I needed help and the rational part of me wanted help. But what do you say to someone after you ask for help, what do you tell them? I was just going through withdrawal and in a few days it would be over.

The saddest part is that I was fine so long as I had some kind of immediate obligation such as work or meeting friends but the moment I had a day off the worst thing happened to me. I was at a point where I thought I was fine. I was taking sleeping pills to help me sleep and I was eating again but the thoughts were all still there. I would get scared to call my family for fear that they had bad news or that because I had not talked to them they were angry with me. I chose not to call friends because I could not think of a way to express myself that did not make me sound crazy. I was home alone and not a soul knew what I was up to.

Sitting at my computer working on my blog I thought I was fine and then I got a text while I was in a rage and I snapped at the person. The person having no idea what I was going through gave a nasty retort and I tried to explain myself but it was coming out all wrong, I sounded like a crazy person. I tried to call but there was no answer I wanted to explain myself and no matter how many times I called it was confirmation of my thoughts.  I had thought about all kinds of ways to end the pain over the past few days but each time I went to do it the rational part of me gave a reason why not to and I stopped.

I was now arguing with myself in my head, “DO THIS. NO, Do that instead! Wait this is a better idea!” I finally had it and could think of only one thing to make it all stop. I had done the research and the bottle was right there. “If you don’t want to talk to me then fine you will never have to deal with me again!” that was the text I sent right before I used what was left of a gallon jug of water to swallow an almost full bottle of sleeping pills.

I was shocked that it was so easy and I was sure I did not have long because I used liquid gels. I took a minuet and then it dawned on me that I was being irrational and in a panic and fear of myself I called 911. My head went into another whirlwind and I was thinking about so much so fast that before I could take a single action, the paramedics were already in the house looking for me. I was defeated and so I walked down the stairs and into the ambulance.

Even once I was in the emergency room I thought about running out. Even though I was faking calm my heart rate was elevated and my blood pressure was dangerously high. I felt I had lost the battle and that thought made me hope that somehow the pills would rush into my system and I would die the slow painful death that I had read about.

However I knew that being where I was it was the start of another amusement park rid and I was strapped in and could not get off until the rid was over. So I sent a text and told the person who I sent my last text to that I was in the ER and to call my mother. After I sent the text it was clear that my stomach did not like how the overdose felt and so I vomited. I then was given a drink to induce me to vomit yet again.

When my mother arrived the feeling of defeat was so strong that I cried and cried hard. I never cry, since I was in middle school I had simply stopped crying I just get sad or depressed and when the feeling is gone I return to normal. But this time I cried I was exhausted and could not fight what was going on inside of me. I could not bottle my emotions and I could not voice how I was feeling so there was only one thing left to do and I did it.

If you have read all the post prior to this you know how this story ends. I do not share this story for sympathy or kudos or anything of that nature. I am simply sharing in hopes to help someone else, to let people know some of the things that can lead to suicide, and that depression is a lot harder to deal with than people think. Depression is also difficult because it effects and manifest it’s self in many different people in many different ways.

Sometimes I sit and think about all that I have lost to depression, in a way I lost some friends, I can no longer trust people the same way I used to and I lost MeTo. I tried hard to be honest but for the last few months I just could not tell anyone how I felt because I did not know how. My real friends made an honest effort to help me but how can they help a person who has learned how to fake being well, so well? My life has changed so drastically because of this; mostly for the good but there is a whole future that I was so sure I was going to have that is gone.  I mourn that loss as I should and I hope that the day soon comes when I can see a new future and be just as excited if not more. 

Simply put, this is my story.  

The Darkest Chapter of My Life Part 6, “The Final Blow”

I decided to send my friends a text telling them I just got out the hospital. The response was shocking it basically went like this. From Icon there was no response and from the other two, “Sorry but we are all going through stuff.” I was so taken back that these were my so called best friends and here they find out I attempted suicide and there is no sign of concern, I guess I should have known when they chose to never call or text to ask why I was not hanging out with them.

Set to just cut all the bad from my life I sent a text to MeTo and told him I needed to talk to him. When I got him on the phone he told me how he was worried and thought he was making things worse so he decided to keep his distance. At that I backed down from cutting off all contact. I tried to understand his logic and told him that if I had gotten a message it would have made things easier.

The day came when I was supposed to start outpatient therapy but there was a mix up so my intake appointment was rescheduled. Then a week later my meds ran out. I began experiencing really bad withdrawal. I could not eat, and I could not sleep and when I tried to call MeTo to talk there was no answer.

Things began to get really bad around day two, I could no longer control my mood and sleeping and eating was completely out of the question. MeTo would text me but not call and I would snap and he would then get distance. I tried to explain to him what was going on but it was hard via text message and he still refused to answer the phone or call. I figured it was a lost cause expecting him to be there for me and that I was reaching for the stars expecting him to help me.

By the time my refill was called in I was done with the withdrawal and decided to stay off of the meds. It had been two days since I talked to MeTo when on Tuesday he sent me a text that he was worried and that he missed me. I retorted back yeah right. He then told me he was done trying to convince me that he cared and said he gets the picture he would stay away. Once again I tried to explain things to him and then tried to call and he still would not answer. I became impulsive and angry and suicidal. I tried smoking and it was not helping and so I told him that if he did not want to talk to me that I would just end it and so I downed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

My body was shaking and the shock of how easy swallowing the pills was pulled me back just long enough to call 911. I gave my address and explained what happened. I was told to stay on the line for poison control but I hung up. I was once again confused as to what I should do. Do I leave the house, or do I go and lie and say it was a false alarm? I had only moments and before I could think I heard the paramedics in the house. I went down stairs and told them what happened.

Before I knew it I was at the hospital and told to lie down. I was angry and hurt and disappointed that I ended up back in this place. A part of me blamed MeTo, if he had just once picked up the phone to call me without me asking or begging him to I would feel that he cared and I would not want to hurt myself for being stupid. But I knew the blame was all mine because I allowed him in. I deserved what I got and I was unsure if I wanted to survive.

I was asked a thousand questions about hearing voices and why I did it. I was embarrassed so I lied as to why but everything else was the truth. MeTo began texting me asking why but I felt no real concern so I told him to call my mother and tell her I was sorry and let her know what happened. It was not long before she showed up with my step father and I began to cry. I finally did it I cried and everything came out. I felt stronger. All my life I just wanted to cry when I felt hurt but years of being hurt so often made it so that I could only bottle it all up.

I was told to drink activated carbon, charcoal mixed with sugar and water. It made me HURL, anything that was in my stomach and lower intestines, came up in huge burst. And when I was empty my stomach tried to push out more. It looked like someone tried to die their hair black using the toilet.

After several hours of observation I was sent to crises center where I retold the story of not what just happened that day but when I first had thoughts of suicide. I considered myself lucky because I could attribute this attempt medically to going off my meds and because I was already on outpatient I was ok to go home.  The last thing I wanted was to be stuck inside another crises center.

I went home and took my meds, it was official I had no choice but to take pills for my immediate future. But one thing was clear the pills helped and MeTo made my greatest fear come true, that when I really needed him and really wanted him, he was not there. 

The Darkest Chapter of My Life Part 5 “Welcome Home, Bon Voyage.”

I was excited to spend time with my mother but kind of happy that she had to go back to work, I was anxious to see my Roommate and talk to all the friends who showed extreme concern.  When I got home there was my roommate Marcy sitting on the porch with a few other people. I had a tone of stuff to bring in the house and once it was all in I hugged my mother and I sat to talk to my roommate.

I told her of a few stories and she told me what she had gone through. My mother had told her that I was coming home and Marcy planned accordingly. There was a card for me and as she was leaving the next day for a vacation. We had a few people come over that night. My straight boyfriend had bought me a cookie the day I was 302ed to cheer me up and of course I had to explain to all my roommates and friends what exactly happened that day.

I had to keep my drinking to a minimum as I was officially on an anti-depressant but I had a blast. Soon it was bed time and things took a turn for the worse. I had invited a friend over and we ended up sleeping together. This started a long chain of promiscuous behavior for me.   I remember calling Stacy and Bella and the first thing Stacy asked was if I got laid and I told her I did. We laughed and then talked about who was still there and was not.

I took the rest of the week off from work so I could get adjusted and take care of things. The next day I awoke to find Marcy gone as expected. I was home alone to do nothing but think. The amount of support shown for what I went through was astounding. I was so touched that I was still on cloud nine. There was just one major thing missing, my so called best friends. 

The Darkest Chapter of My Life Part 4 “Oh The People You Meet.”

Hello Mr. Abercrombie

So there is not much to look at in crises centers but Thursday during outside time there was my roommate who had the sexy eyes and the quiet guy who was built ford tough and you know would just be one good ride.   We watched as he threw the football back and forth. Stacy had a boyfriend of ten years and while she liked the view there were too many years of looking at the menu and eating at home, that and she preferred black guys. We kept our eye on him and made it our mission to get to know him.

By lunch time Friday after being told the doctors wanted to keep me up to 20 more days in this place I was determined to become some kind of head honcho. If I had to stay 20 days I was going to break some rules, that meant finding out which side of Abercrombie’s bread was buttered, Besides Anastasia liked him too. So we waited for him to sit down during lunch, he sat at a four top and we sat with him.  He was clearly nervous and so we waited for him to calm down and then I got the ball rolling. He would not talk too much when I was around but he did open up to Anastasia when I walked away to get something to drink. He then asked why I was there and when he asked why, his first guess ways guys then he added girls as if to make it seem he was open to all people but to us it just sounded a bit to second nature but I was not yet convinced.

At smoke break I was given a paper that I was only up to 6 more days which meant I could get laid regardless.

Hello Bella

This real sexy Italian woman was all quiet and sitting alone in the activities room and so I sat next to her with no intention of befriending but low and behold she was perfect. I could not imagine how she could be here but naturally it was an overdose. She had other issues to that made me just feel bad, it was all medical type shit, nothing that was her fault.

She arrived the day after I did and stayed in here room. It was not until Sunday that we became full-fledged friends.

When my roommate was discharged on Friday I was hoping it would be awhile before I would have another roommate and that if I did he would be just as if not more awesome than then the last. I went to my room to find a short black guy on the bed reading.  I introduced myself and quickly left to tell my new buddies that I now had another roommate. It was short lived because in the middle of the night they swapped him out for a guy who was 6’5 and did nothing but sleep. The next day at breakfast I told my friends what had happened at which they all laughed. The day was spent mostly just hanging around. There were some groups but it was mostly scheduled fun activities.

Bella, Stacy and I were thick as thieves. Because I had mentioned to my doctors about my occasional Marijuana use they put in my file that I should go to co-occurring groups which now meant I could go to all the groups if I wanted to. My hearing on Friday also said that I would only be staying up to six more days which I was ok with. I knew that going to all the groups and talking to every staff member I could, it would make that even less. Saturday around noon Rachel came in. she was intriguing and it turned out it was a botched impulsive attempt at suicide. She soon regretted it but her husband insisted she go get help.

Along with Rachael I met John. He was a diabetic with only one leg and a good amount of his fingers missing. His story was so said that I will not share it but let’s just say he needs a divorce.

Later that day I found out that the guy who was removed from my room was James and that he knew my friend Stacy, small world. I quickly enjoyed the fact that I did not go to Delco, at least I would not bump into anyone that I knew. James joined our group even though he was in for anger it was soon discovered that he was just in a bad situation at the wrong time.

The weekend for the most part was fun, there was Karaoke which made Rachael a star and then Tanya, a little Asian woman who not only enjoyed rap but was good at it. There was almost never a dull moment.

Bella was in because of her mother fabricated a story about here trying to kill herself on multiple occasions. When Bella read here 302 paper work to us it made her mother sound far worse than we had imagined.

Sunday during our time in the court yard the activities director came up to me and we began to have a very deep conversation and at the heart of it was MeTo. I poured out my heart to here and let here have all the gory details. I really liked this woman and felt safe around her, the whole time I was there I would chat and she would even open up about her own life to me.  It was then that after a week of not hearing from MeTo that I had to accept the fact that things were over and that he no longer cared for me the way I cared for him. She never advised but asked questions to help me come to the conclusion that I would just have to cut him out of my life. I knew I did not want to do it right away which she agreed was a good idea.

 Monday came and I had had enough, everyone was getting discharged or knew when they were getting discharged. I was taking meds and went to every group and now they were repeating. I clamed up and went to my room. While lying on my bed and watching the rain hit the glass block window my psychologist came in and asked how I was doing, he then told me he would try to get me out Tuesday. The news made my day.

Stacy was not getting discharged until Friday and Bella might have to stay the maximum 20 days. We exchanged numbers and prepared for the moment when we all would be separated. James was leaving that day and so we made sure that we had a way to keep in touch.

Tuesday came and I acted like a king, I did what I wanted and was so giddy and happy that they had no choice but to let me go. My mother came to pick me up right at lunch time and I realized how bitter sweet it all was.

Here I made several new friends and some of them I had to accept the fact that I just might not ever see or hear from them again. They served their purpose in my life and I had to move on.  A part of me wanted to cry but another part wanted to just scream and never look back. When all was said and done and I saw the sun on the other side I ran for it screaming, “I’m Free!” in honesty I was free of MCS but my battle with depression was still going on and about to get a little harder. 

The Darkest Chapter of My Life Part 3 “On The Inside.”

My first night I was nervous but I found people I could get along with. The next day I wanted to sleep late but I had to get blood drawn. I went back to bed only to be awakened by a loud woman telling my roommate and me it was time for breakfast. I grabbed want looked to be the fixings for a “Make your own” breakfast sandwich. I was not given any meat because it was pork and I have an allergy. It was so damn bad that I wanted to hurl. But there was yogurt and fruit.

As I munched on my apple, which would be my main source of sustenance, an odd woman came up and said she could not see me. Now this is time for a back story.  The night of my arrival and once semi-settled I had to ask the nurses’ station a question, I was directed there for some odd reason, it could have been for that MRI or EKG. All I remember is that it was a test it and it had letters and I was told to ask for it. A man walked out of the station and I said excuse me, he looked my way then went back in. I looked to the man next to me and asked, “Can you see me?” he replied, “Oh Yeah I can see you.” He was visiting a patient who would turn out to be the funniest story I have had the pleasure of hearing.  Later when I went to watch TV in the activities room the guy who I shall call Mike made a joke about wind coming in but not seeing the source. He then explained to me and everyone present that it was his father who I asked about my sudden invisibility.

So back to breakfast, this was about the third time I heard the joke and all I could do was smile and rush through the apple. Each time she would see me it was followed up with, “That’s just to funny.” She was quick to recognize my cool awesomeness, I assumed she was not all gone or all bad but I was going to get to know this person a lot better than I maybe would like to.  I began going to groups and but when the co-occurring recovery groups were taking place I had nothing to do. So I found a book at the nurses’ station and my roommate gave me a book. Both thick, both written for adults who ENJOY reading.  I tried to read but soon found that I wanted to sit and try to write. I sat for about an hour on Wednesday just getting to know my roommate and that’s when the question was asked, “So why are you here?” without hesitation I retorted, “Attempted Suicide.” We went back and forth until he got the whole story and I used gender neutrals when referring to my ex and he soon got the picture. He was still shocked that I would even think about it.

Many people asked the question of what lead to my 302 and they all gave the shocked look to my answer. I was determined to make the best of this situation. I hated depression and I did not want to deal with it any more. If I could not kill myself then I had to take advantage of government programs that make it so that such people as me would not want to do what I had planned.

I smiled at everyone and talked to all the nurses and staff and my case worker was the best. She found it easy to relate to me and listened. I found her to be the easiest person to talk to. She really seemed like she wanted to understand ME not the why’s or how’s but how I felt and what I thought and how she could help me, unlike my doctors on the other hand.

So there was my Therapist and there was my psychologist. My psychologist refused to make eye contact and spoke softly, this was such a shock to me that after he gave his sepal about who he was and blab bla bla I blurted out, “What?”  To prevent myself from laughing. He however was a good looking man, his demeanor was just a turnoff, so I could see why there was no ring. After maybe five minutes if not less I was sent on my way. I did not get much done in the way of groups on Wednesday because every time I got into something I was called into another short meeting where they either picked my brain, got a statement about why I was there or to poke me for some other physical reason.  One guy (a nurse practitioner) gave me a physical and asked if I had enough at breakfast, I wanted to say, “As much as I could stand,” but I simply said plenty. He then said it sounded like I didn’t eat enough, and he was right.

My therapist, I like to refer to as the Happy Lumberjack. He wore plaid, a tie and jeans, and it was all well-coordinated, eh hmm. He had a soft and pleasant speaking voice and all I could do to keep from laughing was smile and node. He would open with, “How are you feeling today?  What do you want to talk about, what would YOU like to discuss. “He was so fucking cute with his Mister Rogers voice I had to think about weather I wanted to huge him or deck him.

In my first meeting we discussed MeTo. I was devastated when I checked my voice mail and did not hear from him. I was so hurt I was doing everything in my power not to think or talk about it. I could not understand how you can tell someone you love them more than anything and that they will have your heart forever and when they tell you they are going to kill themselves you do nothing. I let it all go on my lumber jack therapist. He helped me to realize that surprising how I feel towards someone is not good. It is ok to want to punch someone in the face and relish in the thought. You have to keep it in thought, accept how you feel, deal with it in thought and then move one. I felt so much better that, that night I dreamt about kicking MeTo’s ass, I relished in the dream, woke up and let it go.

Night time was the worse; there was nothing to do so I took a shower. My Mother could not get clothes to me until Thursday and my sister was going to bring them. I checked my voice mail and still nothing from MeTo or my so called “Best” friends. Bombshell had called me and was clearly worried so I got her number from my mother and left her a voicemail telling her I was ok and getting help. I also got the number for a friend of mine from jersey, only to find out that you could not make out of state calls, so I could not reach out to MeTo even if I wanted to.

I woke up Thursday in full swing of things I had set a reputation and found out who the cool kids were; I survived high school once I could do it again. There were your cliques, there were the cool kids, suicides and drug over doses, the cheerleaders – attempted suicides who thought ALL people are fucked up so they try to be friends with everyone, the want to be cool kids – people with more than one issue but are in such denial they are hard to help, the loners the anger issues  and really mentally damaged, and the staff. I was always a cool kid and it was not long before the cool kids started talking to me and about me in positive ways.

There was mike, he was in because he mixed his medications up and started seeing aliens. Dirk my roommate who OD’d on heroin by accident. Troy who simply pissed off the wrong people with the right connections and Samantha a heavyset girl who was in for an OD but was so funny and strong you ONLY wanted to be her friend or you simply hopped she didn’t notice you. I kind of stunk with them most of Thursday until I met Anastasia. She was quiet and I went to sit next to her and we started talking and formed our own little twosome until later that day I met Stacy. She was only an inch shorter than me. I had noticed her before but she was quiet and had a distant look on her face. But she opened up to us and just like in high school I had my own little clique. We talked and giggled at the fact that while most people were way older than us everything you need to survive in a place like this you learned in high school. We all went to the same groups together; watched TV together and eventually started taking smoke breaks together.  ALL the original cool kids were discharged on Friday and so it was my group and the cheerleaders.

The night before the woman who kept the invisibility joke going pushed me to the limit and I had to curse her out. She stopped talking to me for two days; ah I wish it had lasted longer. 

The Darkest Chapter of My Life - Part 2

I would go to work and on my way home I would, get sleeping pills and a bottle of vodka. Once I got home I would tidy my room give myself a facial and get hammered on the vodka. I would eat a little then swallow the entire box of sleeping pills.

I went to work as I had planned and I was excited about my plan, I was looking forward to 5 o’clock when I got off and could home to end the pain forever. I was at work for all of two hours when I had to answer the phone, the person asked for Victor Bethea, it as a man then I heard the unmistakable voice of my mother. “Do you know what I went through this morning?” I knew it my plan was foiled. I told her not to come to my and she said ok, I knew that meant she was already on her way.

I had no idea how to handle this, do I run, where do I run to? I asked to go on a ten and I went to buy the sleeping pills. I came back still panicky. I decided that when I saw my mother I would run out the back and hide or take the bus home or something that I did not know, all I knew was that I would find a way to get away from her.

My plan was foiled yet again because my coworker told me she hated being on the register and so I jumped on and in the midst of taking orders and failed to know the passing of time or the fact that my mother had jumped in line. My heart sank as I saw the expression of, “I GOT YOU!” on her face. It was a look of relief and joy mixed with hurt.  I had never seen it before but I recognized it immediately and my heart screamed and cried.  I wanted to hit the floor and let my emotions poor out but I could not because something else within me cranked the spigot to the faucet tight and would not let any emotions of any kind out.

My mother demanded that I go and speak with her. I could see fear, the kind that she was afraid of what I might do, but I also saw the strength in her that she could handle whatever I could dish out and then some. So I reluctantly complied and I tried to rationalize my decision which still after all I just saw seemed like a good idea. When pleading and trying to get me to see the mistake I was making did not work, her friend came to speak with me and then the her pastor who made me want to do nothing more than get away and so I did.

Everyone else handled themselves well but the pastor caused a scene and I was embarrassed. I wanted him to go away and my boss was trying to understand what was going on and do here job of getting control of the situation and the pastor just clammed up and repeated, “I want to talk to the STORE manager.” And after the assistant manager was not enough I was asked if I wanted to take this to a more private location and as my mother chased me she called the police so that I could be 302’d. Once the police arrived, I was asked all kinds of questions as to my plan and why.

The pills were found and my fate was sealed. I was going to be taken to Norristown hospital. My mother wanted to take me to some place in DelCo but the pastor insisted that I be taken by the police. I was willing to go to DelCo, HELL I know DelCo I did not know Montgomery County.

Handcuffed, I was escorted out of the store and placed in a police vehicle where a motor brigade of my mother, another cop car and my mother’s pastor took me to a place for people like me. On the way I tried to snap myself out of it by talking to the cop. No lie this guy was hot. I asked him where he was from and I immediately knew why, he looked like the more butch version of J.R. he was nice a guy though and the conversation flowed naturally.

Once I arrived they took everything from me. My bag, cell phone, wallet, all I had on was the clothes on my back. After waiting for what seemed like hours we got to talk to the doctor. He was HUGE a big fat guy who sat down and I was stunned he could fit in the chair I did my best not to let what was going on in my head to show on my face. He decided that I needed to be “admitted” I heard “committed” but potato, tomato.   

We were offered juice as we waited further and it was undrinkable, I wanted to say something but mother advised agents it.  I began joking and felt better and took a shot of asking my mother if she would reconsider but she said this was something I needed, I felt for her I knew this was hard but she was making it look easy. This is a woman who I have no doubts would lay down here life for me if it meant I could just live minutes longer. Would circle the world to save me and stop at nothing to and sacrifice everything to ensure my welfare. Here she was allowing me to be locked up in a place where she could not come and see me every day, or talk to me every day, just so I could get the help I needed. She was logical and rational, but the love was POWERFUL to the point I could not argue with her.

She eventually had to leave and I felt like crying again. My mouth said I understand and I was well aware of here other obligations and the fact she had to tell my sister what happened but a huge part of me wanted, “My Mommy.”

With the strange guy in the lobby, the bad orange juice and the fact that I could not have my cell phone, I wondered how anyone was prevented from really going insane. I figured hey I have 10 bucks my mom will bring me more and there is a coke machine, can’t be that bad.

I had to go through triage and relinquish my belt and all jewelry except my watch, I told them the studs in my second holes were new and might close. I needed a little bling. I then had to talk to a nurse about what happened, I then ate turkey, yogurt, and carrots and washed it down with apple juice that came from one of those little cartons you get in grade school at lunch time. I wondered where the green was but considering this was hospital food and the turkey tasted like real turkey and needed no salt I could deal.

Then an MRI then I had to talk to the activities coordinator and sign paper work, then I met with my first contact person, then I made my room and then I was alone. I prayed that my roommate was someone cool, cute, and if possible gay AND a top. He however was only two out of three and that’s far from bad. He told me about how things worked and that it beats prison, Yup my roommate was an ex con with the sexiest eyes that you ever did see. He was in sales and with eyes like that it was no wonder he did well. He was in for a heroin overdose and he parents thought it was intentional. I would soon find out that in a place like this the only people who really get along with one another are Attempted Suicide cases and Drug over doses.  It was going to be a long however long they planned on keeping me.