“Did you have a good workout?” Rachel asked in the locker room as i ducked into one of the stalls.
“Yeah,” I answered, trying to keep my voice from shaking, “It was good.”
“Good job! You did it!! Now go enjoy the nice sunny day–go to the pool or something.” I could hear the smile in her voice as it faded out of the locker room.
“Go to the pool”. Yeah right. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and never get out again. Truth is, it was not a good workout, I didn’t even finish it. In the middle of my last round of exercises a song came on that triggered me. It was by NF, that song “Let You Down”. It was blaring loudly throughout the whole gym,
“Feels like we’re on the edge right now, I wish that I could say I’m proud, I’m sorry that I let you down…All these voices in my head get loud, I wish that I could shut them out, I’m sorry that I let you down”
I let her down. She trusted me but I let her down. I let her down. I let her down. It’s too late. I let her down. The voice yelling at me in my head grew overwhelming loud as I sat on my mat in the middle of the gym. Without even thinking my thumbnail made its way to the back of my hand and dug in. It felt good, it took some of my attention off the song and the voices and I turned my focus to my hand. I dug deeper and deeper and harder and forgot about who all might even be watching me in the gym. Finally the song ended and my hand was bleeding and I felt exhausted. I could barely stand and carry my mat to hang it up and I made my way quickly to the locker room and collapsed on a bench, sobbing, thankful there was nobody in there at the time.
I missed her so much. She removed me entirely and completely from her life after I had tried to get help for her. I would do it again if it came to that, but it won’t. Not with her. She hates me. I wish I had done it differently though, not gotten dragged into the vortex of family drama, secrets, and chaos, but instead have had all my efforts go to the one thing she needed so badly–help. I had tried hard to get her help but got distracted when her sister started using me to get information about her and then she started using me to get information about her sister and I was stuck in the middle of something I wanted nothing to do with. Words were twisted and all of a sudden I was the bad guy in all of this. I was used up and spit out by the very person I loved with all my heart–my best and closest friend. I let her down. I broke her trust, I guess, by trying to do what was best for her even though I wish I had done better.
I am so sorry that I lost her, but I’m not sorry that I did my best to get her help. I’m sorry that mental illness and “substances” change a person into someone you can’t even recognize. I’m sorry that she probably doesn’t even realize how much I loved her and care for her. I’m sorry that I didn’t have a chance to explain. I’m sorry that she doesn’t understand and I don’t know if she ever will. I’m sorry that drugs and depression and anxiety and hurt took over her and control her. I’m sorry that she used me and I’m so sorry that she hates me.
To some degree I feel accountable, even though I know I shouldn’t be, because I couldn’t get her help. I let her down in that way. I should have been able to find some other way. I’m so sorry I couldn’t.
I’m sorry chica, I’m so incredibly sorry I let you down.