Breakdown, and Build Back Up

Saturday I had to go home for my grandma's birthday.  My oldest brother and parents and I went to Ruth's Chris and ate a delicious dinner.  The whole time, my grandmother was complaining about the enormous amounts of food we were ordering.  That's what my family does: judges each other for eating too much and being piggly wigglies, and then secretely stuffs down all the delicious food in enormous quantities when no one is looking.  It's not really a secret, though, because people notice when half the leftovers are missing the next morning; plus, we are all fat.  Anywho, we dropped grandma off at the assisted living facility after dinner and went home to watch a movie.  We didn't really do much, and the next morning I left pretty early.  For some reason, it just seemed like a really nice time to me though.  So Sunday morning when I ran off with barely a goodbye, I started feeling really guilty about it.  I had to leave early because Andrew's work had a Christmas party that afternoon, and he kept telling me not to be late.  Once I got on the road, he informed me that the party was at 2:00, not 1:00 like we thought.  I was really upset because I had run off in such a hurry and I felt like he had sort of tricked me into getting back early because he didn't trust me to be there on time.  He later explained that he really thought the party was at 1:00, but by then I had already gotten myself worked up.

When I was driving back that morning, I was listening to DMB's "Dreaming Tree" and started balling.  I kept thinking about how much my family has done for me.  They have always given me everything I could ever want or need.  They sent me to good schools, bought me great presents, raised me with morals and values, and loved me unconditionally.  Even when I was at my worst, when no one could figure out what was wrong with me and I just wanted to die everyday, they stuck with me.  They dragged me out of the darkness by making me go to therapy and eventually even going to the inpatient facility.  I can't imagine how hard it must have been for my parents seeing me like that.  And, on top of that, they would drive 2 hours down to the facility to visit me at least once a week while I was there (and I was there for almost 4 months!).  I am extremely lucky to have the support of my family, and was blessed by the fact they could afford the best treatment for me because my dad worked hard and they managed their money well.  Most people in my shoes would not have the support I did, I'm sure.  My parents never abused me.  They weren't alcoholics or druggies.  They did everything they knew to do.  I sometimes regret the fact that they didn't realize how bad the problem was until it was too late, but now we all know.  It won't ever have to get that bad again.

By the time I got back and Andrew came over, I was a mess.  He walked in and I said I didn't want to go to his party and just started crying again.  I don't know where this came from.  He just held me for a little while and tried to figure out what was wrong.  It was weird, there was no reason for it really, but it didn't take much for me to relax back to normal.  Just having him hold me and love me and care meant so much.  Then, he did what he knew would make me feel better.  There's something about knowing someone loves every part of you.  It can solve all your problems at once.   Later, he told me about some difficulties he had in the past to explain that I'm not alone.  It meant the world to me.

I ended up going to the party.  I knew I was going to be nervous and shy and quiet, and my face always turns so fucking red when I talk to people I don't know.  I hate that.  My therapist said it's because I am assuming other people are thinking bad things about me, but it happens so fast I don't even realize these are just my thoughts.  In just fractions of a second, those thoughts fire and I feel my face burn.  Now I just have to learn how to stop it.  Well, anyway, all that happened at the party: I was shy and quiet and my face turned red.  Luckily, I had plenty to drink and followed Andrew around like a puppy.  It actually ended up being really fun.  I took part in the White Elephant gift exchange, and got some Jimmy Johns gift cards, which is great because we love J.J.'s and we have no money!  Andrew's boss looks just like the blonde version of my therapist - and acts like her and sounds like her too.  Of course, I love my therapist because she saved my life and is basically my idol.  She has her good job and cute little family.  She shops at Banana Republic (I used to work there because I loved it so much).  She just has a really good grasp of life and what's important.  Plus, she's self-confident and fun.  That's what I want in life.  I feel like I am heading that way.  I found a future that really interests me, something I could do forever.  I am usually confident and happy.  I have some qualms about myself, but everyone does I think.  I can't wait to keep my life moving.