How to have an okay day.

"We always want the people we love to stay. We don't want them to leave us. It's not so much that we don't want them to grow and change; it's more that we don't want the time together to end. But, I realized as I listened to the song, there is Only One who can always stay. So I prayed to Him: Stay With Me. Stay With Me."

-Being Sixteen, Allyson Braithwaite Condie.

I woke up at 7 and couldn't get out of bed. Everything hurt. My stomach. My heart. My head. And I really just wanted to lay there forever. So I didn't go to class, despite knowing I really should have. At about 9 I decided I couldn't stay pathetic and that I was GOING to go to school and I was GOING to have a good day. First, I had to park way the eff out there. But I decided to not complain about it. It wasn't a big deal. Then I went to class and we talked about childbirth and abortions and such. This was when I first started thinking about the gospel. My teacher admitted to having had an abortion. And I immediately started thinking about how I felt about that. At first I was a little angry at her. How could you take away a life of something so pure? Then she began to explain the medical reasons that she absolutely had to. Now, I still don't agree with it. But I could see on her face what a hard time that had been for her. And I wondered how I would handle that. I decided I wouldn't handle it well at all. And I wouldn't be able to make the decision to take away the life of something that's part of me like that. And I wondered how she did it. And how she got over it. You know, maybe she didn't get over it. Maybe there will always be a hole in her heart for that sweet child she never got to meet. But she is happy now. If her happiness doesn't prove the existence of The Atonement, or even just of there being a God, then what does? There are things in this life that may seem so incredibly hard to bear, and sometimes we just don't know how we get through them. But we do. And not on our own. 

So after that class, I went to walk to palates and realized I didn't have any of my stuff for it. So I skipped that too. I went and sat and read. 

The constant buzz of sound in the background started closing in on me. 

I closed my book and proceeded to check facebook, hoping for a distraction from all the noise. 

There was a status about "silent diseases." You know, things we can't see but effect so many. Depression being one of the main ones. 

Then I started thinking about all the people I know and love in my life that suffer from some form of depression. As I looked around the crowded room I was sitting in, I wondered how many people sitting so near me suffer from it. Because you'd never know until you know them. I watched people for the rest of the hour. Analyzing facial expressions and movements, wondering what makes them who they are, what we can't see. 

And I don't understand why it exists. 

We are all each given our different trials, yes. I get that. But why do some people have to deal with their trial every single day? 

I do consider losing him one of my biggest trials thus far in my life. It's effing hard. But I expect it to pass. And I know it will, although I can't feel it right now. And, maybe I'm wrong, but I imagine the feeling I'm feeling right now is the feeling many people feel every single day. 

It's this awful feeling of thinking that nothing is ever going to get better. The sun doesn't shine nearly as bright anymore. The wind is a little more cold that usual. Waking up is a lot harder. Things I have always enjoyed have lost their appeal. My laugh feels empty. And I feel like I'm never going to feel happy again. 

See, I know this will pass.

But what about the people that I never passes for? What about the people who can't fight it?

I'll have many trials throughout my life. Maybe I'll lose a child. Maybe I'll be poor. Maybe my husband will lose his job. Maybe my house will burn down. And they will be hard. Life isn't easy. But these things always pass. 

And this is why depression doesn't make sense to me. Why would some people have to deal with all of those normal trials that I just listed, on top of dealing with that internal battle of hopelessness? 

I don't know if or when I'll understand it. But I guess God has a reason. 

I'm trying so hard to focus on that. God has a reason. He has to have a reason.

I saw him today. After Institute. I walked out and BAM. There he was. I had planned to go straight to work from there. But once I got out to my car, I couldn't make myself go. I waited till I felt alright. 

He looked happy. I'm glad. 

I know I sound pathetic and very teenage girl in these posts. He was just one boy in my life. I should accept this as a life experience and move on. I know. 

I just... I don't feel like I lost a boyfriend. I lost my best friend. I lost the person who would listen to me without judging me. I lost the person who taught me so much about the real world. I lost the person who made me want to be better. There was a lot about him that I'm going to miss. 

It'll slowly go away. 

For now, I'm just waiting.

How to lie to yourself all day.

Today I woke up, went to school, and walked by his truck. Everything was still in there. It gave me hope. I went throughout the day thinking of ways to get him back. By the time I started talking to him, I was convinced it would work. I had prayed since the moment he left. I had talked and thought it through. It only made sense.

But he didn't come back.

See, I felt as if I showed him how bad it was hurting me, he'd feel the need to come back.

And i tried that for a little while. Until the moment he told me he was worried about me. Suddenly I had to tell him I was fine. We talked a little more and i  had to insist that yes, I will be okay.

So I sit here and wonder how exactly I actually feel. Do I hurt? yes. Will I be okay? probably. Do I feel like I will? no. So why did I tell  him I'll be okay? Heres the answer. Because I need him to be okay.

This whole relationship has never been about me.

sounds sad. Right? Actually it was really nice. I had someone to take care of. Someone to love. Someone who took such good care of me. Granted, he never knew he was taking such good care of me and I didn't really need him to. It was all about him. I just needed him to be okay. And I still do.

Can he see through my little lie about me being okay? I don't know. But he seemed so relieved to  hear it, that I'd fake it any day to make him okay.

Part of me accepts that he is not coming back. And yes, it hurts like hell.

I still can't eat without getting horribly sick. I still wake up at 3 every morning crying. I still shake all the time.

But I'm not dying any time soon so I might as well get used to it.

You know what hurts the worst though? Well, besides lunch time without him. Its looking at the clock at night and thinking that I should be with him right now. Like I was every night for basically the last 5 months. I should be in his arms.

But hey. Maybe one day someone else will come along.

Maybe.

How to get through yet another day.

If you had any idea how much better I feel being 8 pounds (3 from yesterday. dropping fast.) less than what I have been for the past few months, you'd tell me to continue not eating too.

Too bad I just got back from dinner. I never can last very long. Not by my choice, however. It's just difficult to explain to someone "No I'm on my 3rd day of no eating. But you can go to dinner by yourself." Yeah. That wasn't about to happen.

You know, I never quite understood self inflicted harm quite like I do now.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not one to go about causing myself pain. I'm too weak. But the way it felt to have my stomach ache like that... I almost felt normal.  It was as if the pain in my chest and the pain in my stomach just equaled each other out. Canceling one another.

I have so much I want to tell him now.

As the day went on and little things happened, I made mental notes to tell him later at lunch. Then Institute rolled around and he didn't walk in. I had almost completely forgotten. It was then that I felt everything. I could feel how pissed off my stomach was at me. And how completely shattered the rest of me was. At lunch, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't eat. I think part of me thinks that maybe if the next time he sees me, I'm 20 pounds lighter, he will love  me again. Ridiculous, right? But I just couldn't eat. And I had no where to go. I couldn't stand the thought of going to work early, sitting there for an extra 2 hours than usual, and then not having the relief of his arms around me after. So I sat in my car.

People passed. Some holding hands. Some alone.  And I watched as I realized how alone I really am.

Day 1 of being back to school: Heartbreaking.

So I went to work. Explained to the girls what happened. Watched as everyone's faces turned from happy to completely sad for me. They all knew how much I loved him.

It passed fast enough. Then when I walked out to my car, his truck wasn't there.

And I felt it all once again.

6 months ago. Exactly. He started talking to me. We haven't missed a day since. We even talked for a very short amount of time yesterday. But today, nothing. 6 months. Now nothing.

My mind is all sorts of mixed up.

Gosh I loved him.

How to stop eating.

"How can I be pleased when I'm handed the keys to a town they call misery?"- The Format.

I can't figure out  how to stop writing now. Obviously, since this is my second post of the day. And I'm sure there will be another one when I get home tonight.

5 pounds down. It's only been like 3 days since I stopped eating.

You know, I don't exactly mean to just not eat. The first few days were because it made me sick. I've eaten here and there. Nothing big at all. And I like it. It feels like, for once, this is something in my life that I can control. When I've had so little control of my life since August. I'm  not saying it was a bad thing. But so much just became decided for me. I HAD to go to school and HAD to get a job and eventually got in to a pattern where I felt as if I HAD to go to his house every night or be with him every night. And because I loved him and didn't want to upset him by not eating, I HAD to eat. Well, now, I still HAVE to go to school and to work and then home to do homework. But I can decide when I eat, or if I do. Because I'm not in this to please him anymore. Our little deal is off. If I don't eat, he's still going to eat, he's not gonna stop eating with me. So I'm not putting him in any harm by doing this. He will still be healthy, and I won't have to eat.

You know whats sad though? If he asked me to eat, I probably would. At least once.

I understand my life is not ruled by him. It never has been. But man it felt nice for someone to care about me like that.

My family has been really good to me since it happened. My brother got up in church and bore his testimony, directing part of it to me. My sister did all the dishes for me and didn't ask for anything in return. And my little brother told me I looked like a hooker today (means I'll find another guy fast, right?).

I guess I just have to remember to breathe. I'm tired, this emotional pain is causing incredible physical pain like I never knew it could, I can barely talk above a whisper, and I'm not eating. But as long as I'm still breathing... I guess its bound to get better eventually. Maybe. Right?

How to handle the 24 hours after.

I don't know how long its going to take for me to be able to return to the "how to" format. But for now, I guess I'll just continue to write like this for a couple of reasons. 1) When I'm writing I'm putting the emotion in words so its not so unbearable. 2) It's a lot harder now to just sit on facebook, especially when he's online. 3) I don't know who else to tell all of this to. And 4) I keep thinking maybe he will read this and decide to come back. (Stupid. I know. I doubt he well still read these.)

I don't know if people even read this. Maybe that's another reason I find it easier to express it all here. 

I couldn't sleep last night. Well, mostly. I went to bed at 10:30. Fell asleep at about 11. Woke up at 3. And haven't been able to sleep since. I also haven't eaten since taco bell on Friday night. And before that I hadn't eaten since cake the night before. Well, give or take a few french fries. I think it takes my mind off the pain inside my chest. My heart is constantly beating fast and sometimes I forget to breathe. 

Who's gonna love me now?

Who's going to change my break pads? Or teach me to change my oil? Or fix my computer when its broken? Or force me to eat more than one meal a day? Or rub my back when it hurts? Or rub my feet just because? Or tell me I'm beautiful? Or hold my hand? Or wait for me outside of work? Or hold me when I'm crying? 

Who's gonna love me now? 

It's an empty feeling, really. For once, I can't even find the words to write it in to a poem.

Every time my phone rings, I expect it to be him. Or when he gets online, I always open a chat box and start to type before I remember that he won't reply.  I didn't think it would hurt this bad. 

I got a blessing last night. It was a blessing of "if this relationship mends..." and it made me angry. Why would God send me messages that only say "if this mends, you need to do this and that..." ? I guess I just don't understand.

I don't understand alot of things. 

I woke up, the nightmare was still going. I want to go back to sleep.

How to be broken.

So here I sit. Completely broken.

You know, I knew it would be hard. I knew it would be the hardest thing thrown at me thus far in my life. And I knew it was coming. I could feel it in every bone in my body when he would look at me. I guess, I just had this undying hope that it wouldn't happen. And that hope consumed me.

So here I am to write it out. And the "how to" format seems to escape me as I look at the keyboard. How do I talk about this pain eating me up as if I'm telling someone else to do it? I can't wish the way this feels on anyone. I also don't even know how to describe it. Where do I start? Do I begin with explaining what its like to be sitting on a couch with the person you love, holding his hand, knowing its the last time it will happen? Or do I begin by explaining the love that took place there first? Or maybe I could just start explaining the way it feels to sit with friends in complete silence because no one understands you now. Or how it feels when his lips touch your forehead for the last time. Or how it feels for him to look at you like he doesn't even love you anymore. See what I mean? I have no idea where to start.

I've cried harder than I've ever cried before. The pain is too real.

And I just don't think I'll ever get over him.

Now, don't get me wrong. Yes, I will probably love again. That's usually how it goes. Although, I don't want to anymore. Not unless I'm loving him. But, I understand that at some point, there will probably be someone else. For both me and him. But there's something about the way this feels that nothing else has ever felt like before. Like part of me is missing. My left leg maybe? No, maybe just the left lung. It makes it hard to breath now but at some point, I'll get used to it and figure out a rhythm that works for me. But I'll always be missing it.

Oh how I would take it back if I could.

I suppose I'm supposed to learn something from this now. Maybe that I'm my own person and I should rely on myself and no one else. Or maybe that life moves on. Or something along those lines.

But no. I don't feel like I'm learning anything except for that I'll never be good enough. Even when I try to fix myself, I'm rejected for trying. Because I'll never reach that level of goodness that people want in their lives.

So yeah. Maybe I'll move on. But I don't want to. I want to miss him. I want to feel this. I just want him here. This is my time to be sad. So heartbreakingly sad. (My computer thinks heartbreakingly isn't a word. I'm fairly sure it is.) And then maybe it will mend. Probably it won't. I guess life moves on.

But for now, I'm gonna go crawl in bed and cry. Maybe I'll wake up from this horrible dream. If I do, I promise to appreciate every moment with him a thousand times more. But if I don't, if this turns out to be real... I'll repeat this process again tomorrow night. Maybe one day I'll wake up from it.

How to feel hopeless.

Sit in a dark room with only the computer's light shining on you. Yawn. Think about going to sleep but decide it would be better for you to write than to rest. Stare at the computer.

Stare and Stare and Stare.

Start thinking about how much you hate this. Hate the way you feel in every aspect. Hate how its so hard to get comfortable. Hate how you can never seem to get enough sleep. Hate how you can never burn enough calories. Hate how you don't even know who you are anymore.

Remember a time when you knew exactly what you wanted to do with your life. Think about being that happy 3 year old that was convinced she was going to be a singer. Remember singing everywhere about everything. Remember being told to stop. Remember the empty feeling that came along with stopping. Remember the empty feeling that still comes when you watch other people sing beautifully.

Remember the moment you decided you wanted to write for the rest of your life. How it felt to be told that you're good at something. Having all those big ideas for stories. Spending hours folding paper to look like a book, but never filling those books with words.

Reflect on everything you have written thus far in life. Hate every word. Realize that there is not enough training in the world to make you good enough.

Feel your head pounding and wonder what to do now. If you can't write, what can you do? You can't do math. You can't do science. You can't remember facts. You can't act, draw, or photograph. You won't sing. You have no skills. And you have no motivation to create them.

Think back to a few days before. Sitting there in class. Listening to a stress management tape. Remember how you felt when it told you to remember the last time you had felt extremely happy and to return back to that time. Think as hard as you can. Search your memory. Find nothing. Wonder when you last felt extremely happy. Know that you have been happy on numerous occasions, but you just can't seem to remember when you were last extremely happy.

Lay in bed.

Wonder what there even is to look forward to.

Without any plans, any dreams, what is there to wake up for?