Ten years ago, I posted about being in the mood to write something, but not knowing what. You suggested my testimony as it was something you wanted to read. I don’t recall if I ever obliged you as we were extremely close, and grew much closer after that post was created. We certainly learned a lot about each other and helped each other through some tough times. For your sake, or maybe for mine, I started typing it all out here — my life story. Everything that has brought to me where I am today, even those things I’ve kept locked away.
But I’m not quite there yet, A. Not for the amount of detail I planned to type and reveal. A lot of it you know from when we would talk about our childhoods. You know about my relationships, one of which is responsible for our friendship, in fact. You knew that although I often struggled with my identity and purpose in life, I was a Christian committed to helping others, often at the expense of myself. And I know you could identify with me, because we always had very similar personalities.
You also know that I struggled heavily with depression most my life, although I had always found a way to manage it. Unfortunately, there came a point when it became unmanageable and the suicidal thoughts started gaining traction. I started planning my end — not for attention, as that has always been the last thing I’ve ever wanted, but for results. But I got drunk one night and mistakenly texted my intentions to you. You talked me down and got me to seek help from my fiance and her father, who was my biggest role model at the time. My fiance ended our relationship on the spot and made some hurtful comments about my depression and being like my father, and her dad backed her up. I learned later that irrational jealousy played a part in our separation, as I had told you first instead of her. She misunderstood the nature of our relationship, even though you and I have never met in person and lived on opposite ends of the country. She just didn’t understand, like she didn’t understand that I never meant to tell you, but I was drunk and it slipped out. I lost my future wife and her dad, who was like a father to me in all ways that my own had failed, all because I was heavily misunderstood.
Perhaps it was doomed to fail anyways. That doesn’t stop the sting from it, though. It didn’t take long for me to try to strangle myself anyways just a couple months later. But, like most things, I failed at it, and turned back to you, this time with a gun in my hand. You talked me down while reaching out to my family, who called the police and protected me from myself. That was my lowest point so far, and you were there for me.
I couldn’t handle myself mentally after that and ended up losing my job. Eventually, after a few months, I met my actual future wife, and I believe you met your husband roughly around the same time. We each had a kid around the same time, so naturally the “our kids are going to marry each other” jokes started making rounds. It was cute. But then deja vu happened, and my wife started getting jealous of our relationship. She specifically stated that she didn’t understand it and said that it was “weird” to have friends you never met before. She just couldn’t fathom what we had, but also felt threatened by your role in my life, despite all that factors that pointed to the epitome of platonic relationships. Being female was your only crime, and having a close friend who was a female was mine.
I tried standing up to defend you, but I just couldn’t. I was weak, still mentally inept from my incident just a year or so before. My wife was basically threatening to leave me if you remained in my life, and it broke me more than you could know to ghost you. I just didn’t know how to handle the situation and I reacted so damn poorly. I hurt you; wounded you. Damaged you far more than you deserved, and it is my fault for being so weak. It is easy to fall back on my mental state as a crutch an excuse, but I take full responsibility.
Since then, I’ve harbored resentment towards her for it. I can’t forgive her for her irrationality that forced me to give up the only friend who truly understood me on a spiritual, emotional, and mental level, in ways that she never could.
Since then, I’ve all but lost my faith, wandering aimlessly around the dark realm of deism at best than the Christian light I used to know. I’ve contemplated suicide a dozen times a week, but been unable to act on it. I’ve lost all hope and direction I once had for a future, barely struggling to survive at this point for my kids. I lost my dad a few years ago, just as we were beginning to reconcile and grow close, making up for years of growing up distant. I’ve grown more closed off and fake than ever, having to lie my way through every moment of every day in this veritable hell I’ve created for myself. This is my testimony right now. This is my life, and you’re not missing much. I’ve always been a scared little boy, running away from his problems. On the rare occasion I try to face my fears, they beat the shit out of me. The few times I try to tackle a problem head on or fix something, I only make things worse because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I am seriously about as lost as they come. I’ve tried drinking, cutting, smoking just to feel something, but all have failed. I am truly a lifeless husk taking up space in a crowded world. All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to understand me and help guide me through my own thoughts. I had that with you, AG. Then I fucked it up because I am me and that is what I do. Just waiting to fuck up my current relationship, which will dump me on the streets and give me an excuse to do what I should have done over six years ago.
I guess I wrote more than I intended. I hope, if nothing else, this helps make things clearer, should you ever come across it.