I plead guilty.

by Anna Magdalene January. 01, 2017 1020 views

A picture of my bronze, shining, clean, new, 2016 Volkswagon Beetle sitting in my driveway

Her name's Lola, she is a bronzed goddess, ain't she beautiful.

Ahh, new cars... they are an awesomely beautiful thing. The privilege of sitting inside such an immaculate, untouched, fresh vehicle... wow. Truly an experience. No dust on the dash, not a stain or scuff anywhere to be found on the seats... all the mirrors gleaming brand new, the glove compartment could actually fit a pair of gloves or two instead of a heap of junk considering the only thing in it is the owner’s manual and the how-to-change-a-tire off road assistance manual right now... (which by the way who would ever use that... if I ever lost a tire on the side of the road 1. my vehicle does not have a spare so I would have to call someone anyway... and 2. I would instinctively call the tire changing road help people anyway... um yeah I do not trust myself following a random manuals instructions to fix my 1000s of pound CAR that carries me close to 100 miles per hour down roads next to other 1000s of pound cars... yeah no I trust myself to put together Ikea furniture and such) So, um... wow that took a turn (hah low key car pun there... no? okay) but my point is new cars are amazing. I love them, and if you have had a chance to experience one in your life, I am sure you love them too! Everyone loves new things... maybe a bit too much sometimes. For instance, new friends, new clothes, new babies, new― pretty much anything.

        So, this is pretty sucky of humans but it's also really common of humans to be totally in love with something when it is new and then when that thing becomes a normal part of their life, that intense love begins to fade. Well, I plead guilty of this crime... in multiple cases. {eek} But don't you worry, Buttercup. I am hear to tell you what I have learned from going through this love lacking period, which means it has past and I am wiser now... this is not a confession of my sins, I save that for Sunday.

        My boyfriend. Oof. So we had been dating for about 5 or 6 months at this time, it was Spring time, my depression was worse than ever, I was anxious all the time, I hated going to class... I absolutely POSITIVELY dreaded it. My English teacher that year was one from hell... and I had the privilege of starting off my day with her... every single week day August-May. She made it her personal mission to humiliate me, drag down not only my self image, but also my grade, and personally target me every day in class. It didn't help that it was my first year at this new campus and I only had one real friend, my best friend of course, T... who is no longer in my life, for I pushed her out of it when I couldn't handle my own self anymore. But anyway, I think you get it, it was a tough year for me. So, Spring time rolled around and I was dragging my feet with 0% motivation, no self respect, a shattered heart, and I was having the hardest time faking a smile, like I usually did. I decided to stop trying all together and I fell into a hole. My ultimate low. I didn't talk to anyone at school. I didn't eat unless my parents told me to, and even then I would eat just enough to not pass out. I didn't smile. I would harm myself every single night until I finally cracked. I take medicine daily that you can overdose on if you take enough of it... of course, when I take it from day to day, I take it for a prescribed medical reason, and I take the correct dosage, but that night, I tried overdosing on my medicine. Obviously, I did not die. For some reason. Most of the time, I am glad I did not die. Right now, I am. That is such a drastic improvement. 

        Anyway, like I was saying, it was Springtime and my boyfriend, Jay, and I had been dating for about 5 months. I lied to Jay about a lot around this time when it came to the things I did to myself because I didn't want him to worry. However, I told him that I overdosed. He knew I wasn't getting help for anything and that I didn't want help for anything... but that didn't stop him from telling someone. I was infuriated. When I say infuriated, I mean that I was so consumed with anger that I did not talk to anyone for days. I trusted him. He betrayed me. That is all I was thinking. My parents forced me to go to psychiatrists, I would not say anything. I remember sitting there and staring with so much anger at them for the full half hour appointment. Jay reaching out to someone out of fear was a sign of love for me, but I only saw it as an idiotic, rude, horrible, thing. It did cause us to grow apart for a month or so. 

        This month was painful. I mean it. Here I was, trying to pick myself up emotionally, deal with my parents that didn't know about any of this prior to Jay's reveal, bring my grades up that were all low D's...  not to mention there was only 2 more months of school, and also trying to hide this from all of the people in my class... for I was suddenly absent and everyone was asking for the latest gossip. All of this and I still was mad at Jay... Well lets just say the months after that had a wwhhhhooolllleeee lot of "talking it out." We talked it out. every. single. night. pretty much... it was sort of exhausting but very needed. We figured a lot out about each other and I personally figured a lot out about myself. I was able to build on that and become a better person by saying, Okay Anna, you suck at that, but you are great at this, so work on that and keep doing this! And with that no-rush recovery time I would say we are now on a pretty steady road to love-you-lots-land. 

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