Thinking about JD again this morning. How the timing between us was never right. Our first time dating, despite the fact that we’d been close friends for years by that point, I was so excited to be able to have a boyfriend who was already my friend. We didn’t have to build a friendship or get to know each other, we could just jump right into the deep end. It was great. Until Valentine’s Day.
I got him a very simple “I like you a lot” card, which wasn’t easy to find in the piles and piles of “I love you” cards.
He had grown up very poor, and while he had some income at the time, he worked a crappy job and I knew he was more or less still poor.
I, on the other hand, had always been spoiled. I never gave a second thought about money, I got whatever I asked for.
I always knew that he’d never really been in a healthy relationship, and I doubt he’d ever gotten much of anything for Valentine’s day. So when I saw that one of his all-time favorite bands, Crystal Castles was coming to town, I didn’t think twice about buying him tickets. The total for two of them was less than 50 dollars and I was so excited to be able to give them to him.
Long story short, when I finally gave him the tickets on Valentine’s day, he decided that my feelings for him were too strong compared to what he felt for me and a few days later, he broke up with me.
Over a pair of concert tickets.
I told him to keep the tickets and to take a friend with him to see the show.
He didn’t take a friend. He didn’t go to the concert at all. He let the tickets go to waste because for some reason, in his fucked up mind, accepting those tickets from me was akin to accepting my love for him.. and he wasn’t ready for me to love him, even though we’d been close friends for years.
A short time after that, he moved out of state. We stayed in touch and after a while, he decided he had feelings for me again and we decided to try a long distance relationship. It didn’t go well and we broke up yet again.
However, by this point, I was ready to tell him I loved him, and I did, even though we were once again broken up.
His response to my confession?..
Yep. For months and months after that as we continued to stay best friends, I continued to tell him I loved him, and he’d always respond the same way. We were like Han Solo and Princess Leia.
Some of you may be wondering why I continued to tell him I loved him, even though his response was always the same. See, by that point in my life, I had decided that I wasn’t going to ever keep my feelings inside. About anything. I never, ever want to regret the fact that I didn’t say what I needed to say before it was too late.
Anyway, some time in those months, my psychiatrist and I decided that my mental health was in a pretty good state. So he started to wean me off my antidepressants.
He told me to inform anyone that was close to me to look out for any changes, such as my depression worsening, or suicidal thoughts returning.
So naturally, I told the person closest to me, JD.
I told him exactly what the doctor had told me. That I was being weaned off my medicine and to let me know if I started to act strange.
Sure enough, within a week or so, my depression had come back worse than it had ever been. I was cutting myself daily, and my mind was caught up in deep dark canyons they had never explored before.
I didn’t notice that I was acting differently. My mind wasn’t in a state for common sense. I didn’t connect the dots and realize the reason I was acting so strange.
Guess what? He didn’t say a thing about my medication. He didn’t remind me that I was being weaned off. He didn’t even tell me I was acting different.
You know what he said?
“You’re crazy Andra. You need help. ”
The person I was closest to, the person I loved more than anyone, the person that had known me since I first started having troubles with depression. He called me crazy.
I read this line somewhere once, it said “I stopped loving you when you of all people called me crazy.” And it’s true. I think that’s when I first stopped seeing him through rose- colored glasses. That’s when I realized that maybe this guy wasn’t right for me after all, or maybe it was just me. First my friends in high school, then him?
He told me he wasn’t going to talk to me again until I got professional help.
I almost killed myself that night, all because my best friend and the man I was in love with, couldn’t care enough to remember and remind me that I was being weaned off my medicine.
I only realized why I was acting weird because I was scrolling through my camera roll, and I found where I had screenshotted the text where I told him about me going off my medicine, as a reminder.
I know it’s a lot of pressure to put on someone… Actually, is it? Is it so bad of me to ask someone who I had such a close relationship to me to keep an eye out and to warn me if I started acting erratic? Was that really too much to ask?
I don’t really remember exactly what happened after that, I know I got help.
Eventually we reconciled. Eventually he told me he loved back. Eventually we dated, and broke up again.
I guess I was doing the same thing to him as I did to Evan back in high school. Using him as a crutch. Relying on another person to help me keep my sanity.
I don’t do that anymore. I love my boyfriend, and I’m thankful for everything he’s done for me and all the emotional support he’s given me, but I will never rely on another person like that again. Now, whenever I’m depressed, I just curl up into a ball inside. I tape my mouth shut and let it all fester like an infection. I think it’s killing me inside, but I’d rather suffer alone than to bring someone else I love into my world of darkness.