This picture was taken of Morgan and me on the night before everything stopped. We went to my Moms house that day - October 20, 2012. She helped me braid my hair that morning because I wanted double braids for fall time. We hung out, relatively uneventful yet relaxing day. We came home and went to sleep. I woke up around 4:30am and saw that my Dad was calling me. Assuming he was just awake and calling to ask me a nonsense question or tell me what he was watching on tv, I ignored it. I looked to see if he left a voice mail and noticed I had 30+ missed calls. My little brother, my older brothers room mates and friends, my Dad...a few texts. I called my Dad back thinking he would tell me Andrew (my older brother) was in the hospital. He wouldn't tell me what was wrong until I woke Morgan up and put him on speaker phone.
Me: "ok dad what's going on?"
Dad: "is Morgan awake?"
Morgan: "hey pops, I'm here"
Me: "ok Dad what's wrong?"
Dad: "Andrew's dead."
Stop.
Everything stopped. I didn't know what to say. I cried. Of course I cried. I couldn't sleep. I called my Mom...or maybe I called Ryan (my little brother) first....I don't remember. I remember saying to my Mom "Mom, Andrew's gone" and her flatly saying "I know baby." Ryan was sobbing. I stayed awake in to that day. While we were at Mom's the day before, Andrew called repeatedly trying to get my Mom to wire him money like she had been doing. She told him several times that she couldn't leave because we were there. When we left, she wired him money.
I got drunk that day and called everyone I knew. And everyone I knew called me. I drank several bottles of champagne because I wanted mimosas. Kylee brought over bagels. My new furniture was delivered and I was so wasted that Morgan had to tell them where to put it.
That is the day everything stopped. If I could rewind my life and go back to the moment in this picture, I would. My whole family was still alive. Morgan and I were still together. I wasn't doing the dumb shit I started doing afterwards. Fast forward a year and a half later...and here I am working very very hard to not be that person anymore. Hopefully so there can be some reconciliation with Morgan, but also because I can't live like that anymore. There's something to be said for getting drunk and having a good time. There's quite another to be said for getting wasted in an effort to just not feel. Or to feel normal. Or to be able to sleep. Or to be able to cry. As a result of never having dealt with the shit...the shit started to deal with me. 12 days I haven't gotten drunk or taken anything to alter my mentals. This is the hardest I've ever looked at myself. It is uncomfortable and I am sad a lot and I don't really like it....but it has to be done because I want to start living again. I don't want to just exist. I want to be the happy person I used to be. Not worn down from being drunk or sad because I don't feel good about myself or wanting to hide under my sweats all the time. I am trying so hard - so so hard....and so far it is working and although the pain is awful in my heart and I am realizing all the different layers on which I was unhappy, it's been an absolutely eye opening experience. I am more aware of my fucked up coping skills and my shitty behavior than I've ever been.
I want to press play.
