Hello, I just made this thread to vent. (LONG story, sorry)
Apr 18, 2024 1:08:34 GMT -5
Amy Mcphetridge, thejusticecode, and 2 more like this
Post by FredHerbert on Apr 18, 2024 1:08:34 GMT -5
Sorry if this doesn't belong here but I can't keep my thoughts swirling around in my head all night. It is driving me insane.
So four years ago, I started dating a girl that I had known since about 2015. When I first met, I was at the end of my rope. I was very sick and virtually housebound at the time, and ready to cash in my chips with health problems that seemed endless. And then one night, I met her. I was trolling some random guy in a Kongregate chat room, as one typical does on these... social chat sites, and she came to the guy's defense. She thought I was a pedophile because I had a profile picture of the Springfield Pervert, and I thought that she was the guy's mom or something and I had pissed off the wrong person. But I quickly defused the situation, and we became friends that very same night. It turned out we lived a mere hour away from each other. Beautiful! S and I became fast friends, and we usually chatted every night, well into the early morning hours. She helped me through my sickness, and gave me something to look forward to, something to keep me going. We really grew to like each other, even though she was 12 years older than me. We began meeting each other in person. Her family liked me, and she enjoyed having me around, as we both found each other to be very like-minded in a lot of ways. Around 2019, we started flirting more and more and in 2020, we became romantically involved. A year and some time in, she admitted that she wanted another chance at being a mom (she has a son, but mind you he was practically grown by that point) and so we decided that once I established enough money, we would try for a baby, and if it was meant to be, she'd get pregnant and then we'd get married.
She started disappearing more and more, which began to make me worry immensely. I didn't want to just drive up to Chicago to kick her door in and interrogate her, and I wasn't about to start stalking her or anything. So instead I sat down, and penned her a letter imploring her to admit to me just what the hell was going on. If there was anything happening, I wanted to know. And if I could do so, I would help her through whatever was causing her to hide herself away, just as she helped me all those years ago. I mailed it out, and awaited a reply. I was worried. I suppose I had every right to worry, because she actually got back to me fairly quickly and my worst fears were realized: She had developed an addiction to heroin, and had been hiding it so that I would not worry about her. I come from a family of addicts, so I had my suspicions for a while. I was still shocked, and spent the whole night awake with my heart pounding harder than it ever had, almost unable to breathe and unable to calm myself down until exhaustion carried me off to sleep. The next time I went up to visit her, I spoke at great lengths with her about her addiction, and we came to an agreement that I would ditch my 7AM-6PM carpentry job and take a more manageable part-time Preload job (2AM-9:30AM) at FedEx Ground, so that I could be around for her if she needed anything while she made a (supposedly) earnest attempt to get sober. I agreed, since the facility I applied at was handing out money hand over fist during the COVID shit. $26 dollars an hour and insurance to load trucks? Sure! I agreed, and I took the job, placing my full trust and support in her in the hopes that this could lead to something still.
So I went through absolute Hell at FedEx. I got hurt badly multiple times, worked in 100+ degree weather and bitter cold, (no AC or heating in the building), but I really grew as a person and made friends, and learned what kind of person I am and what I am truly made of. In the meantime, my girlfriend seemed to be making decent headway. I had a lot of money and offered to fund her rehabilitation, and then the disappearing act started once more. 2021 passed into 2022, and my grandpa was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and so my priorities shifted to taking care of him. I was still deeply disturbed by the heroin thing, and even asked a coworker what my odds would be if I just went up there sometime and outright killed her dealer. It's Chicago, that shit would never be solved. Thankfully, he calmed me down and talked me out it. I became Godfather to a co-worker and friend's baby girl around this time also, allowing me to LARP out my dreams of fatherhood, sort of. 2023 rolls in, and my girl makes a partial return. She admits that while she was gone, she had been using almost every day but because of me constantly reminding her and motivating her, she had cut down drastically. Excellent! Took you long enough, but hey, I can't complain, progress. But she's terrified to see me. I know she is hiding something from me, but I keep quiet. She tells me a few weeks ago that she wants me to come on up and see her. By all means. I get dressed up, and I head out. Because she gives good directions, I don't get lost and get there in under an hour.
She admits to me that, as of late 2023, she has been sober for months. She saw the effects that the drugs were having on her body and how it was destroying her, and so she decided to quit. It was a slow burn, and took a while, but she did it. I was immensely proud, and very, very happy. Now we could achieve what we had initially set out to do, perhaps it was destined to be after all. A few speed bumps along the way, but surely they were all behind us now. She sits me down, and tells me that things can't proceed the way we had hoped for. The drugs had a profound effect on her health, and she told me that she'd be lucky to have 2 or 3 years left before she falls into even worse health. The heroin had taken its toll and really destroyed her physical health. So all those plans and dreams, everything that I had hoped for, the happy ending that we both hoped we would get in the end turned out to be just that... dreams... we had a shot to start a whole new life, with an entirely new exciting set of hopes and dreams, and she was serious about this, mind you. She was excited. We even picked out boy/girl names if the whole thing had ended up working out, and for once in my garbage disaster of a life, I would actually have something to take pride in and truly care about, and she would have another shot at being a mother, like she wanted. But she had ruined her health with her addiction, and those plans were all dashed upon the rocks.
No baby unless we wanted to endure a high-risk pregnancy with a strong chance that I'd end up a widower before the child even turns five. No marriage to someone that I was immensely close with and considered my best friend, nothing. It's like everything that happened, everything I went through with my brutal suck-ass job, and worrying about her every day, and the toll it took on my mental health and all the times I considered doing something bad to put a stop to her problem... all of it was for nothing. I just feel so broken up about it. My friends tried to calm me down with various copes like "oh, but you have a lot of money now", man, fuck the money, I don't care about that shit. It was never about the money, not entirely, anyway. I wish I had been more forceful in my attempts to stop things. I wish I had dragged her out by her arm to rehab the moment I put two and two together. I wish that I had the balls to start the relationship sooner before things went bad, and maybe then none of this would have happened. I wish this and I wish that, but wishes don't mean anything... It hurts to see someone you love slowly kill themselves with drugs. It hurts to see the amazing things and life that you had planned be burned before your very eyes. Let me tell you, I've been through some things in my life, but never have I felt such pain and emptiness and hopelessness as I do right now. I wish I could turn back time. But there's nothing I can do to change anything now, and those regrets are regrets that I will have to live with forever. What a shame. What an absolute tragedy and just a shame. Don't get involved with drugs.
Anyway, that's what it is... thank you if you read the entire thing, although my rambling has probably driven most of you to distraction. I know, I know, it's dramatic and long, but I just couldn't hold all these thoughts in my head all night. I spent most of my day crying on and off, and it was driving me insane. It... it just sucks. The whole thing just sucks.
So four years ago, I started dating a girl that I had known since about 2015. When I first met, I was at the end of my rope. I was very sick and virtually housebound at the time, and ready to cash in my chips with health problems that seemed endless. And then one night, I met her. I was trolling some random guy in a Kongregate chat room, as one typical does on these... social chat sites, and she came to the guy's defense. She thought I was a pedophile because I had a profile picture of the Springfield Pervert, and I thought that she was the guy's mom or something and I had pissed off the wrong person. But I quickly defused the situation, and we became friends that very same night. It turned out we lived a mere hour away from each other. Beautiful! S and I became fast friends, and we usually chatted every night, well into the early morning hours. She helped me through my sickness, and gave me something to look forward to, something to keep me going. We really grew to like each other, even though she was 12 years older than me. We began meeting each other in person. Her family liked me, and she enjoyed having me around, as we both found each other to be very like-minded in a lot of ways. Around 2019, we started flirting more and more and in 2020, we became romantically involved. A year and some time in, she admitted that she wanted another chance at being a mom (she has a son, but mind you he was practically grown by that point) and so we decided that once I established enough money, we would try for a baby, and if it was meant to be, she'd get pregnant and then we'd get married.
She started disappearing more and more, which began to make me worry immensely. I didn't want to just drive up to Chicago to kick her door in and interrogate her, and I wasn't about to start stalking her or anything. So instead I sat down, and penned her a letter imploring her to admit to me just what the hell was going on. If there was anything happening, I wanted to know. And if I could do so, I would help her through whatever was causing her to hide herself away, just as she helped me all those years ago. I mailed it out, and awaited a reply. I was worried. I suppose I had every right to worry, because she actually got back to me fairly quickly and my worst fears were realized: She had developed an addiction to heroin, and had been hiding it so that I would not worry about her. I come from a family of addicts, so I had my suspicions for a while. I was still shocked, and spent the whole night awake with my heart pounding harder than it ever had, almost unable to breathe and unable to calm myself down until exhaustion carried me off to sleep. The next time I went up to visit her, I spoke at great lengths with her about her addiction, and we came to an agreement that I would ditch my 7AM-6PM carpentry job and take a more manageable part-time Preload job (2AM-9:30AM) at FedEx Ground, so that I could be around for her if she needed anything while she made a (supposedly) earnest attempt to get sober. I agreed, since the facility I applied at was handing out money hand over fist during the COVID shit. $26 dollars an hour and insurance to load trucks? Sure! I agreed, and I took the job, placing my full trust and support in her in the hopes that this could lead to something still.
So I went through absolute Hell at FedEx. I got hurt badly multiple times, worked in 100+ degree weather and bitter cold, (no AC or heating in the building), but I really grew as a person and made friends, and learned what kind of person I am and what I am truly made of. In the meantime, my girlfriend seemed to be making decent headway. I had a lot of money and offered to fund her rehabilitation, and then the disappearing act started once more. 2021 passed into 2022, and my grandpa was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and so my priorities shifted to taking care of him. I was still deeply disturbed by the heroin thing, and even asked a coworker what my odds would be if I just went up there sometime and outright killed her dealer. It's Chicago, that shit would never be solved. Thankfully, he calmed me down and talked me out it. I became Godfather to a co-worker and friend's baby girl around this time also, allowing me to LARP out my dreams of fatherhood, sort of. 2023 rolls in, and my girl makes a partial return. She admits that while she was gone, she had been using almost every day but because of me constantly reminding her and motivating her, she had cut down drastically. Excellent! Took you long enough, but hey, I can't complain, progress. But she's terrified to see me. I know she is hiding something from me, but I keep quiet. She tells me a few weeks ago that she wants me to come on up and see her. By all means. I get dressed up, and I head out. Because she gives good directions, I don't get lost and get there in under an hour.
She admits to me that, as of late 2023, she has been sober for months. She saw the effects that the drugs were having on her body and how it was destroying her, and so she decided to quit. It was a slow burn, and took a while, but she did it. I was immensely proud, and very, very happy. Now we could achieve what we had initially set out to do, perhaps it was destined to be after all. A few speed bumps along the way, but surely they were all behind us now. She sits me down, and tells me that things can't proceed the way we had hoped for. The drugs had a profound effect on her health, and she told me that she'd be lucky to have 2 or 3 years left before she falls into even worse health. The heroin had taken its toll and really destroyed her physical health. So all those plans and dreams, everything that I had hoped for, the happy ending that we both hoped we would get in the end turned out to be just that... dreams... we had a shot to start a whole new life, with an entirely new exciting set of hopes and dreams, and she was serious about this, mind you. She was excited. We even picked out boy/girl names if the whole thing had ended up working out, and for once in my garbage disaster of a life, I would actually have something to take pride in and truly care about, and she would have another shot at being a mother, like she wanted. But she had ruined her health with her addiction, and those plans were all dashed upon the rocks.
No baby unless we wanted to endure a high-risk pregnancy with a strong chance that I'd end up a widower before the child even turns five. No marriage to someone that I was immensely close with and considered my best friend, nothing. It's like everything that happened, everything I went through with my brutal suck-ass job, and worrying about her every day, and the toll it took on my mental health and all the times I considered doing something bad to put a stop to her problem... all of it was for nothing. I just feel so broken up about it. My friends tried to calm me down with various copes like "oh, but you have a lot of money now", man, fuck the money, I don't care about that shit. It was never about the money, not entirely, anyway. I wish I had been more forceful in my attempts to stop things. I wish I had dragged her out by her arm to rehab the moment I put two and two together. I wish that I had the balls to start the relationship sooner before things went bad, and maybe then none of this would have happened. I wish this and I wish that, but wishes don't mean anything... It hurts to see someone you love slowly kill themselves with drugs. It hurts to see the amazing things and life that you had planned be burned before your very eyes. Let me tell you, I've been through some things in my life, but never have I felt such pain and emptiness and hopelessness as I do right now. I wish I could turn back time. But there's nothing I can do to change anything now, and those regrets are regrets that I will have to live with forever. What a shame. What an absolute tragedy and just a shame. Don't get involved with drugs.
Anyway, that's what it is... thank you if you read the entire thing, although my rambling has probably driven most of you to distraction. I know, I know, it's dramatic and long, but I just couldn't hold all these thoughts in my head all night. I spent most of my day crying on and off, and it was driving me insane. It... it just sucks. The whole thing just sucks.