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Back for a moment.
I wanted to stay hidden from the world until I figured things out. It doesn't look like that's going to happen soon, so I'm not quite out of hiding yet.
I was a mess, you guys. I cried myself to sleep (and sometimes just cried) most of that first week, and when I had the chance to, I would sleep sixteen hours. I didn't eat, and nearly fainted once for it. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I broke down at work every day: I'd just sit in the back of the frame shop and cry. Sometimes, I couldn't make it to the frame shop, and I couldn't always hide my eyes.
Last week, I thought I was going to start feeling better. I started to e-mail a few people, and leave my phone on for the odd text message. I've received quite a few responses, but the response to one of the e-mails was not what -- or delivered in the way that -- I was expecting.
There were implications before, and there are implications again. And now, who knows what's next? I certainly don't. I'm not sure how well I can handle being in suspense again, especially when this time, I don't know if what's coming is bad or good. If I thought I was nervous before, I had no idea what nervous could be like. I feel as though I'm relapsing, as if the past few days of what I could call happiness (even though I'm not) didn't even happen.
And I still don't know what to do.
Despite finals, Decemberish nonsense that I know you're all dealing with, and other miscellaneous crap, I hope your days have been a thousand times better than mine. With luck, I'll speak again soon, and I'll have good news.
I was a mess, you guys. I cried myself to sleep (and sometimes just cried) most of that first week, and when I had the chance to, I would sleep sixteen hours. I didn't eat, and nearly fainted once for it. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I broke down at work every day: I'd just sit in the back of the frame shop and cry. Sometimes, I couldn't make it to the frame shop, and I couldn't always hide my eyes.
Last week, I thought I was going to start feeling better. I started to e-mail a few people, and leave my phone on for the odd text message. I've received quite a few responses, but the response to one of the e-mails was not what -- or delivered in the way that -- I was expecting.
There were implications before, and there are implications again. And now, who knows what's next? I certainly don't. I'm not sure how well I can handle being in suspense again, especially when this time, I don't know if what's coming is bad or good. If I thought I was nervous before, I had no idea what nervous could be like. I feel as though I'm relapsing, as if the past few days of what I could call happiness (even though I'm not) didn't even happen.
And I still don't know what to do.
Despite finals, Decemberish nonsense that I know you're all dealing with, and other miscellaneous crap, I hope your days have been a thousand times better than mine. With luck, I'll speak again soon, and I'll have good news.
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And I appreciate it, hun, really, I do, but trust me when I say that no one can help me with this. This really is something I have to do (or figure out) alone.