Many people want an update on my life. People keep asking me questions, wanting to know where I am, how I got there, why I haven’t finished my degree, and so on. So, I guess I’ll start at the beginning of what the past year has been like and see if you can keep up.
Last July I was dumped by the first man I ever loved, after taking him to New York. He was living in Pittsburgh during the summer, but I had gone out there to visit him, though I resided in Arizona. Last July, I was heart broken. Two weeks after being dumped I was admitted to the hospital with a brown recluse bite that had gotten infected with an anti-bacteria resistant staph infection. MRSA as they know it to be. During emergency surgery for the MRSA, my heart stopped beating, and I was medically revived.
In August of last year, my ex-boyfriend, and first love, moved back to Arizona, and needed a home. I gave him one. I was still in love, and for a little while our relationship started picking up where it left off. In late August, the day before the first day of school, he was arrested for strangling me, this came after a great deal of on-going abuse I withstood, and though I have never said this before now, it was by and large the most miserable time of my life. That same month I stopped working at the Chandler Public Library, after accepting a separation agreement. It was time for me to finish school, and get the fuck out of dodge. That didn’t happen until now.
In September I checked myself into a mental hospital, after dropping out of school due to extreme post-traumatic stress due to the abuse and bipolar disorder symptoms. After leaving the hospital, the abuse continued until mid-September when I put a stop to it. In October, my health took a turn for the worst, and during a routine blood exam for Lithium, which I was taking for my mental disorder, they discovered that the MRSA I had, had spread into my lungs, liver, bones, and heart valves. I had diagnosed with endocarditis, and given a 30% chance of living for the past year.
November my ex came back into my life, pleading for me to do something about the criminal charges he was facing.
In January I checked myself into another mental hospital, having been thrown against the wall and threatened.
I didn’t report this incident to the police, though it was in violation of my exes plea agreement. I could have put him in jail, at times I wonder if I should of. Instead, I took care of my disorder, because being diagnosed bipolar you often wonder how bad your own behavior is, and if quite possibly, others are not in wrong when they behave poorly.
In February, I finally stopped talking to my ex, severing all connections.
In March I met my now second ex. The same day I met him was my exes birthday. And though he beat me, his parents had sent me an email wanting information relating to the plea agreement he made, and told me was fired from his job for being drunk, and he was ready to go home. So for his birthday I put together a variety of birthday presents and a dear friend of mine accompanied when I brought them to his house. I knew no one else gave him presents, so I did. His response, that he sent me, because he wouldn’t come to the door to accept them, was to “Fuck off and die.” – He went back to Pittsburgh the next week, and we haven’t, and likely will never speak again. That’s sad. Once upon a time, he was the best man I had ever met. Drugs stole that man from the world. I still wonder if that man exists anywhere.
I dated my second boyfriend from March, until the end of May. In mid-April I overdosed on Tylenol and spent six days in intensive care, then moved into a mental hospital where I was evaluated for an additional eight days. I was released with a court order to receive mental health treatment for the following year. I remember nothing of the overdose. I certainly wish I did. I remember bits of the day, but mostly I remember a tube being stuck down my throat and waking up in the hospital unsure of where I was, how I got there, why I was there, and why the fuck I tried to kill myself.
In the end of May I left my boyfriend. One word of advice: monogamy. I am a fan. Others apparently aren’t.
In June I moved back into my parents house.
In July I moved to New York to work on me, to get away from the painful reminders that I have failed in Arizona. I say failed because I failed with my mission to a) get elected b) be in love c) get my degree d) enjoy the company of my friends.
That doesn’t mean I failed at life. It means that political I can’t be in that state. Emotionally, every man I have dated there has hit me. I am afraid of going back to Arizona State University because of the people I once called friends are now listed as enemies. People I would see, a lot of. I can’t take any more abuse.
So here I am, in New York, attempting to put together the pieces of my life. But for once, I am more motivated to do so. I have dreams still. I have hope still. I have love still. I have compassion still. In Arizona, too much of my old self still lingers.
I used to be on top of the world there, but the top is a lonely place.
Now, I am settling into being a part of the world. That’s okay with me. You don’t have to lead the gays, the teens, the libraries, the government, the community in order to contribute and to help. In fact, you help more when you don’t lead at all. I got tired of having to lead. I got tired and burned out of always having to maintain an image that was always professional.
I am twenty-four years old. I have had some very close encounters with death, at least two in the past year. I don’t need anymore. I need to enjoy my life, because I have been on the brink of loosing it – it really is precious to me.
Today, I live in New York. Probably will tomorrow too. Intend to live here and turn over not just a new leave, but a new me. Yes, I loved doing the things I did, but for once in my life, I need to live for me, not for those that want to follow. I am happier now than I have ever been. I am healthier now than I have ever been. I don’t know what I’m doing out here besides finding a job, finding a home, and making my life here. But that’s okay, I got a long way to go, and finally feel like I can and will be happy forever. I am proud of where I have been proud of who I am, ready for what I become.
Today, I live.