I have a mess of topics to talk about but I'll try to be as concise as possible.
First I was right about the lab work. However I wasn't expecting another mri of my brain. Don't know when that will be just yet. I'm trying not to panic about it. Trying.
Wednesday, my birthday, was up and down. It was still one of my better birthdays, which is slightly depressing. The medical stuff didn't help with any of that and had me on edge the whole day. Still, I had a good day with Frank and spent the evening with friends.
Ever since I was a kid I've always kept journals. When I left, or go quiet for long periods of time, I returned to the pen and paper. It's the only way to escape feeling trapped in my mind.
I know I've talked quite a bit about Steve since that friendship ended. I have here. Not with my therapist. I will one day but I don't have all the right words for that as of now. Part of that is Steve was unique to my life in so many ways. Being the only person who could help me escape my own mind is one of them.
I miss not feeling so utterly alone. I miss the person who felt like a piece of me.
It took me a little bit to realize I'm going through the stages of grief. And I hate that. Can I skip right to acceptance?
I'm fairly certain he doesn't read here anymore. Why would he? I told him that I was leaving because he was toxic to me and I needed to get away with what was left of my sanity.
The constant daily agony is gone. So there is that. I do wish it hadn't gotten to that point. That there was a way of mending things between us.
Because at times I'm that foolish, optimistic little girl who believes the world can't really be as bad as it is and that nothing is irreversible. And I'd be lying if every time I get a text message, I don't open my phone wondering if it'll be him saying hello.