What a Time to be Alive…

So…let me tell you a little bit about my life for the past month or so…

February-March-life was great. Mack and I were doing great (so I thought), school was alright…work was pretty stressful, as always, but I was turning in my resignation, so I wasn’t worried about it too much. Life was overall looking good and going pretty smoothly.

Until the end of March…the very last week…

I went to see Flogging Molly play (which was incredible!!) and after the show I got texts from Mack asking me to go to the bar (that we spent 2-4 nights a week at) once I got back in town after the show, so I did. While I was on my way, Mack starts texting me frantically stuff like “I need to punch something so hard right now.” “I got in a fight already and might get in another one.” “Hurry up and get here.” “If you don’t get here soon I’m going to uber home.” So I told him that I would be there as soon as I possibly could and that it should only be about 30 more minutes.

Now, I know Mack has a stupid temper, but I could tell this was a bit more serious for him than usual. I didn’t really know what to expect when I saw him though. So I get to the bar and he’s smashed. I mean…this Irish-Italian man can drink his ass off and not be completely out of control, so for him to be so obviously drunk, he had clearly drank way too much. He was all smiles and talking about wanting to cuddle and glad I was there and blah blah blah...the bartender was glad I was there to take his ass home…yet, she still poured him another shot…thanks…bitch.

So we get in the car and head to Waffle House because that’s what we always did…well, we went to the super ghetto one and there were a couple cops in there…I asked him if we could go somewhere else because he was so obviously drunk…he insisted we stay there, so I went ahead and stayed. We went inside and he was acting a fool…him, being his already-paranoid-now-jacked-up-on-serious-amounts-of-alcohol self, was sure that there was going to be some kind of fight in waffle house…so he whispered to me “go wait in the car…” he had made me promise before going inside that I would go wait in the car if he asked me to…I at first tried to say no, but he insisted and I wanted to avoid an argument, so I glared at him and said, “get.your.shit.together. I’m serious.” Then I stormed off to the car. Thankfully, his drunk ass made it out of there without the officers following him or getting into a fight or anything. He tried to get me to let him drive because “I’d rather it be me getting in trouble than you,” he said. I told him to get in the fucking car because he was not driving. Thankfully, he didn’t try to fight me on that one. That was a fight he would not have won. I was 0% drunk, btw. I had one drink at the show, several hours before going to waffle house.

The night continued to get weirder…he decided he also wanted to go to McDonalds…so we did…while ordering he had incredibly specific requests that he said he was going to be pissed if I didn’t say everything right and they got it wrong. He was clearly getting on my very last nerve and I was embarrassed to ask for his stupidly specific requests, and I refused to say them over and over again because his drunk ass couldn’t comprehend what was going on. So we were arguing, and I smiled at the lady working the drive thru and whispered, “sorry” to her and she gave me an understanding smile and nod. 

Mack and I argued off and on. Then he put his hand between my legs, which tickled, so I pushed his hand off of me. So…he grabbed me, bit my back as hard as he possible could and would not let go, even though I was screaming for him to let go. When he finally did, I yelled, “that fucking hurt!” To which he replied, “I know! It was supposed to! You denied me.” 

You. Denied. Me.

You denied me…

He fucking hurt me on purpose because I “denied” him.

I sat there shocked. I told him I pushed his hand away because it tickled. I said, “you seriously just hurt me on purpose…” We sat there in silence and he apologized over and over again and put his hand on my knee.

We drove home in silence.

When we got to his house, I sat on the couch with him while he ate. I told him I didn’t like him like this and he said he knew he was being a dick and apologized again. I told him if he knew he was being a dick then he needed to stop. He then tried to kiss me and I moved away, but then he persisted, so I fucking kissed him so that he would stop. He told me to go to his room and he was going to take the dog out. When he got in there he hugged me for the longest time and I told him I don’t trust him anymore and that he scared me. He said over and over again that he’s not the type of guy I should be fucking with. He said he wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, but there are things about him I don’t know and that he doesn’t know how to explain. I said “try me,” but he refused…because he was drunk. I asked him if he ever planned to tell me and he said “probably not.” When we were lying in bed, he continued to tell me that he wasn’t the type of guy I should be fucking around with. Then he fucked me… When he said that I mostly just didn’t respond because I didn’t know what to say or what to think. Then he told me that he was going to move soon…like in a couple of weeks. He repeatedly told me he has “nothing” keeping him here…

Got it. I mean “nothing” to you. You can stop saying that now, thanks.

He took my keys away from me because he didn’t want me to drive home, so I wasn’t sure where he put them. He finally fell asleep and I got up and laid on his bathroom floor and cried for most of the night.

It was over. This was probably the last night I would ever stay at his house. He didn’t want to be with me anymore. Obviously. Why else would he repeatedly tell me that he’s not the type of guy I should be with or imply that I mean “nothing” to him?

I woke up that morning and woke him up to tell me where my keys were. He was so drunk the night before that when he woke up I scared him because he didn’t even know I was there.

That night he invited me out with him and his friends and then to stay the night at his house again…so…I did…mostly out of curiosity. I wondered what he would say to me tonight…what would happen…what did he remember from the night before…would he care that he hurt me? Would he apologize?

No apology…he didn’t remember anything, or so he says anyways…I didn’t confront him about him biting me, though now I wish I had. I don’t really know why I didn’t…

We fucked. A lot. A whole lot.

Then I had one day before I would be leaving to go to my intensive at my university…that night I asked him to hang out because I would be leaving for a week…but apparently he was hanging out with old friends, including his ex…at 3am I got several texts from him saying his ex was staying the night and that they weren’t fucking and he told me where he was in his house and where she was and what he was doing.

Clearly, feeling guilty…

So I left on my trip and we barely talked at all…I got home and that same night he headed to NY for the week…again, we barely talked…

The night he got home we were both at the bar and we hung out the whole time and he told me how much he had missed me, which I said “whatever” to and rolled my eyes. Then he asked me a bunch of questions, trying to show that he was paying attention to me and was interested in the things going on in my life…then he asked me to go home with him and even though I told myself I was not going to go home with him…I said okay…

Because sex with this dude is like…unexplainably good…and I’m lonely…and I want him to be someone he is not…I want to see that guy he was before the last week of March.

This is the 2nd week of April by this point…

After staying the night with him and fucking our brains out that night and the next day…he pretty much started ignoring me…anytime I wanted to hang out he felt bad, or was just going to stay in tonight, or whatever else he could come up with…so I finally just said it…because he clearly was not going to…I texted him that I knew he didn’t want to be with me anymore. I told him I’m not stupid. I get it. He gave me some bullshit reason and that was that…

We talked some more the next day and I called him out on some stuff and he apologized some and he agreed to meet up and talk…which didn’t happen…of course…

He texted me randomly, invited me to hang out one night, etc…

A week later…we’re both at the bar…and he’s with another girl. 

Ouch.

Son of a bitch.

He kissed my head and held me tight and asked me to hang out with him later that week and said he’d even cook for me...I knew it was bullshit…and it was...didn’t hear from him again that week.

Meanwhile…I’ve been noticing some things going on…down there…that were unusual…

So…another night…while at the bar…while he’s with another girl…I pulled him aside and told him what was going on. He fessed up to sleeping with his ex that one night that he texted me that she was staying over there and that they weren’t fucking.

So now I’m dealing with the emotions of losing this dude…who is absolutely 100% abusive in many ways, even more than I’m writing about…having to see him with this new girl…dealing with the possibility of having an STD…Making an appt. to get checked for that…even though I don’t have insurance…work is terrible because I’m not sleeping and I’m mentally drained and I’m falling behind on my schoolwork, adding more stress…can’t sleep…can’t eat…constantly crying…

I made a Dr’s appt. for Tuesday…then found out I would have to work on Tuesday…so I rescheduled it for Wednesday morning…then I slept through my alarm…

And then I hear that my granddaddy has gone into the hospital…

Then for two more weeks he’s there…not eating…not drinking…kidneys are failing…

I thought he would make it through this again...he always does…he always pulls out of it and gets better…surely he’ll do it again, I thought.

Then I realized it was different this time, so I went to see him…definitely different this time…

So my brother and I went to visit him and we played and sang songs for him, which really seemed to lift his spirits. He kept saying he wanted to hear more music and when there was music being played/sung he was more responsive/awake than any other time I had seen.

I had rescheduled my appt. for the afternoon, but there was a bridge lift, which was going to make me too late…so I rescheduled again…and…I missed it again because of a car wreck that made me too late…

But as far as my Granddaddy went I still had hope…hope that my strong Granddaddy who was always strong enough to get better, would get better again…

I eventually realized that wasn’t going to be the case this time…now my hope was that he would not go out in pain and that we would all be filled with peace.

He was given the option to go on dialysis in hopes that he would have more time…but he refused…Granddaddy was ready to go…we all knew it.

All of his kids and grandkids came to see him and he got to say the words “I love you” and we got to say it in return. Essentially, every single one of us got to tell him “goodbye” (or…see ya later…)…and he told us stories, we cried together, laughed together, sang songs together…

He was discharged home and hospice was set up at the house…

This was really happening…

I still had this little part of me that thought, “he’ll come out of it…somehow…he’ll push through and be ok…”

But the realistic part of me knew he wouldn’t make it.

The doctor said he would have about a week left.

I frantically began searching for coverage for my shifts in the Emergency Department. I got one covered…Tuesday May 9th. 

My cat was sick and she looked pretty bad on Tuesday…so I had to take her to the vet…the earliest appt was at 2pm…so I get her there and $400 later I get sent home in hopes that the fluids and anti-nausea meds would help…so I dropped her off and headed to grandmama and granddaddy’s house…I got there at 5:45…went in and one of my uncles hugged me and said “his breathing has gotten really labored,” so I walked over and saw one of my aunts standing next to him with tears in her eyes. She motioned for me to come over to him…so I did…I held his hand and said, “Hi Granddaddy…” but I knew he was already gone…it was over…I didn’t expect to come to his house and see him like this…

I thought we had a week left…

One of my aunts and I left to go get some more drinks and about 5 minutes down the road my dad calls me to tell us to return to the house now…they were pretty sure he had passed…We cried and she held my hand on the ride back…our hearts were broken.

We got home and saw that he had…everyone was crying…

He was gone. Already. He was gone. My Granddaddy didn’t make it this time.

My family stood around, prayed and sang his favorite song, “Amazing Grace.”

The next day I finally went to my doctor’s appt. and found out I have HPV. 

Fantastic.

Went to the bar that night…saw Mack…and his new girl…they came and sat at my table, actually.

It was miserable. I left as soon as my dear friend Ryan sang some Johnny Cash songs and dedicated them to my Granddaddy. 

I got to spend the rest of the week surrounded by family and friends…it was so incredibly bittersweet. I wouldn’t have ever made it through this week without this family. 

The funeral felt unreal. It all seemed to happen so fast. It still feels like it didn’t actually happen. 

So…the day of the funeral I got a text from my boss saying I didn’t actually have coverage that day or the next day. I ignored the text because I was literally walking into the funeral when I saw it. Now…on top of being at the funeral, I have this added stress of possibly being in trouble with my boss…but I didn’t give a shit…fire me if you want…Like I had written at the beginning of this post I had turned in my resignation. My boss called me in to ask me to stay on as labor pool, which I agreed to…so honestly, I didn’t give a fuck because my family is more important, but of course it was added stress to have to deal with. I got it worked out though.

Also…because of dealing with all of this…I ended up failing a class…I’ve never done that…I’m even allowed to have two C’s in my entire program and I don’t even have one C. I didn’t have the energy to fight through it like I normally would…made an A in my intensive, so at least there’s that…but that’s just major added stress because that’s a class I have to take again.

The night of the funeral I found out my uncle had gone into the hospital…

He’s still there and he’s not doing well…not really sure what’s going on yet…

I don’t understand what is happening. How is this my life right now? How do I get through this? How AM I getting through this? Family and friends, I guess. That’s the only thing that’s keeping me moving.

I can’t take much more, though.

I’m going to need life to slow its roll now. Please and thank you.

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