3 years from my lowest low- day 5

July 2018 my ex unblocked me for the first time in weeks and texted me. He asked if he could come over to my apartment and talk. I was floored. I had spent a year being yanked around by him. He filed and unfiled for divorce...twice... would pull me back in, only to shut me back out. So when he texted me, he knew I was still in love with him, and still desperate to be with him. 

I said yes, come over. 

We sat on my bed in my studio apartment and talked for an hour. Then we slept together.

I woke up in the morning with a text from him saying how special the night before had been, how he wanted to see me again that night. 

I thought I was in a dream. I thought every prayer I had begged God for had been answered.

I went about my day lighter than air, full of hope and joy.

I texted him that evening to see when he wanted to come over.

Blocked. 

I was stunned. How could he do this, AGAIN? How could he stand to harm me like this, again? Had he not dug the knife deep enough the last year? He had to get in one, final twist?

I tried calling him. Straight to voicemail. I got on Instagram, blocked. Opened Facebook, blocked. I couldn't believe it. I starting screaming and howling and just absolute guttural, horrible sobbing. 

If I had to rank which day was worse: the first day he left me, or this one, it was hands down this one.

The next few months are ones I hardly remember. I drank more than I ever had in my life. Alone. I took more Adderall than any doctor would ever prescribe. I smoked constantly. I became a total recluse. I stumbled my way into work most days, but would call in "sick" as often as I could. I became the piece of shit my ex had claimed I was for over a year. I became vile and hideous and hateful. I remember looking at myself in the mirror one morning and just saying, "Monster." Then leaving for work. 

At one point in that sucking, dark depression, Andrew called me. He asked me to cover over and order sushi with him. It was such a normal thing to do, order sushi with someone who likes you. But... didn't he know what a monster I had become? Didn't he know that all I had to offer was filth and anger and sadness? Somehow, I got ready, making my sick self look as decent as possible, and went over to see him. 

Today, I asked him now about that day, 3 years ago. 

"Didn't I disgust you when I walked through your front door?" 

"What? No. I just remembered thinking you were as gorgeous as always...."

That October afternoon with Andrew was the first time I had felt human in months. But when I went home, I shut myself back into my hell, and the magic of his company and love vanished. (Oh, I wish I could have known on that day, what miracle awaited us.)

As fate would have it, Erik texted me again that same week. He was reminding me that the lease on my car, which was in his name, was up soon. We texted back and forth, and even made plans to meet up and talk. Again, I foolishly thought, maybe he'll see me as someone he can love again. I went to Katy Ice House, where we said we would meet, and I waited. And waited...and waited. I tried to text him, blocked. Facebook, blocked. Instagram, blocked.

So I made new Instagram account. I opened his public profile, and I saw that he is out to dinner with his girlfriend. A girlfriend he had apparently had, even on that night in July when he stayed with me. No wonder he had to keep blocking and unblocking me, he was hiding me from her. 

I couldn't take it anymore. The anguish, the constant heartbreak, the dehumanization. 

I decided to kill myself.

No real plan, but a real, desperate desire. 

And I decided to burn every bridge possible on my way out. So I started drinking heavily and texting.

I texted his mom. 

I texted bridesmaids from our wedding.

I messaged his new girlfriend. 
I messaged his friends. 

He has blocked me everywhere but Venmo, so I messaged him there. 

I let them all know they could fuck off and die and I'd see them in hell.... in more or less colorful and disgusting language. I was so snot slinging drunk, I'm sure most of the messages were erratic and unintelligible. All I wanted to do was die. I just wanted the pain to end. I hated this life and it hated me back.

Thank God, truly, truly, thank God Almighty, my brother came to my rescue. I can't remember is hardly at all, I remember laying on the cold floor in my own drool with my phone pressed on my face for him to come be with me. And he saved my life.

That next day, my sister came over and changed all my social media passwords, deleted apps, numbers, and accounts from my phone. She helped me call my therapist and work out coming in that day to discuss rehab options. All I could see was a monster, all she saw was her sister. 

That morning, I flushed my Adderall and never touched it again. I stopped drinking. I began an out patient rehab. Two weeks into it, I took a positive pregnancy test. I wished so desperately for death, and God gave me life beyond measure.