Recovery

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Honestly I’m not quite sure where to start. The hardest thing I think anyone has to do is talk about themselves when it has anything to do with admitting any kind of weak moment in their lives. I guess it all started when I stopped believing I deserved to be loved and in believing that, I stopped loving myself. It’s a curious thing about people’s perspectives on self love and what it’s supposed to be or how easy it’s perceived to be. They are wrong. It’s not that easy.

When you completely lose yourself in a situation or relationship you really go blind and numb to the things you know you should have seen all along. I was in a relationship with a narcissist. A selfish individual who did nothing but think of themselves and put their own best interests at heart. She didn’t start off that way. For the first year I truly believe she loved me. I think I have to in some way to keep the healing process going. After the second year started things really went south. Bills, stress, usual adult stuff, and life hit us hard. She started getting more mentally abusive and I started looking for attention whether positive or negative from her. Vicious cycle. Fights got physical. She kept creating distance when all I wanted was for her to care because I had stopped caring about me completely. I relied on her to keep loving me for the both of us. I started drinking. A lot.

Here I am a fitness professional and I started missing work, spending days recovering from the last binge. Turned to Adderall and other things to wake me up so I wasn’t taking as long to recover, all while telling other people how to live healthier lives and suggesting good habits. Lifestyle changes. I was living a complete lie. I completely stopped working in the industry and started bartending to supplement my way of living a little better. Hanging out with the wrong people and looking for any kind of validation I could get from people that really could care less, but ignoring the very people that gave a shit. I can honestly say I’ve never been so depressed in my life.

I’ve always been known as the person that walks into the room and the whole place lights up just from my energy alone and here I was looking in the mirror daily wondering who would really miss me? Why would anyone come to my funeral? What would my parents think of my toxicology report was done and they found the alcohol and Adderall or whatever in my system? Is that the way I wanted my life to be remembered? I woke up one morning and looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself. I stood there and cried for about 15 mins before I slumped onto the floor and continued for a couple of hours. I called my dad. He’s always been my best friend but never sugar coats anything. That day hearing the disappointment in his voice and the sadness behind it, I knew I had to do something about it. I picked myself up off the floor and started making a plan.

I packed up everything I owned and left everything I knew. I can honestly say it was the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’ve moved away before but not like this. I’ve moved away and restarted my career and I am the happiest I’ve ever been. They were right about one thing. There always is a light at the end of the tunnel. I may not have been suicidal, but with the path I was on there’s no telling where I would be today. There’s always a reason to be present in the moment. There’s always someone who wants to be a part of your story. Wants to know you. There’s always a reason for the sun to keep shining. There’s a reason to stay and to be better than you were yesterday and to keep moving forward even at your weakest and darkest of times.

 

Story submitted by Jess