I really had withdrawn from the world. But what I learned about myself during this difficult time was, first food was life. It wasn’t really but all I did was eat and sleep; the world around me just held way too much stimuli. Second, I am very good at putting people at ease when I’m a mess. Even people who seemed to have an inkling that things weren’t right, my way with words won the day. I’m not bragging and can honestly admit I did myself a great disservice by doing it but again at that point I had not connected any of the dots and had no clue what the heck was going on with me.

There were some prophetic visions at the time and it seemed like something was trying to come through but I just wasn’t getting it. What I also wasn’t doing was watching my spending. I spent money on food and non-essentials like I was a millionaire (I am the check just hasn’t cleared my account yet). I also wasn’t admitting that I was depressed. I should know since I’m clinically trained to diagnose it myself. I was telling myself I just needed a break. I was being sensitive. I had a lot going on. None of it was true. I had picked myself up from worse places. The truth was I had detached from reality and the only thing that felt good was daydreaming. Writing about it is bringing it all back. I feel sad for that period of my life though I did come to some realisations.

First, I need to live alone until the day I get married. My need for quiet when I’m over stimulated is insane. Small noises were a nuisance. They would literally shake and annoy me out of my reverie and put me in a foul mood. Second, I need to listen to my intuition ALWAYS. This was another “friend”. What pissed me off about this situation was that I knew when I met the person that this wasn’t one of those “we can go deep with each other” kind of friendships. In truth, it was more an acquaintanceship than a friendship. Prior to living together (dumba$$ move on my part), we were activity buddies. We could have certain kinds of conversations but nothing I’d consider deep. I even wrote in a journal when I met her that she was an activity buddy.  This is why you need real people around to check you on your nonsense. But I moved in with her believing we knew each other well enough to make it work. And it was fine for quite some time. As a matter of fact it was fine for the time I was still trying to fit in. When that got old, so did this living situation. However, it would still be a year or so before I realised why and what was going on with me. Not to mention, it would take a prophetic dream of mine and someone else, a whisper from God, and what I considered to be a betrayal before I remembered we were never friends. (Don’t forget through all this I was still depressed and suicidal with a plan and the means. Oh and I had written the letter.)

The other realisation is that there are people who love me. I mean really love me, as in they see the times when I withdraw and don’t take it personally and will still check in. They want to know how I’m doing. They want to be with me even on the days when I don’t really want to be with myself. I wish I realised before I tried to fit in. I wish I never got to that dark place. But I did. I make sure to tell them I love them now. I make sure they know just how much they mean to me. I haven’t told them all everything I’m disclosing here. But I tell them now. I tell them how much they mean to me. I’m working on showing them as much as possible.

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