This is my second blog post in two days. I don’t do that often. Not unless something is just super trying on my mind.
Today was a good day. I was able to sleep in, do some studying, sleep some more, go out with a friend, and see Maddy play in her 8th grade holiday band concert. I’m so thankful for all of that. I was at ease.
I almost forgot that someone I cared about is fighting for his life. It’s crazy, you know? I hadn’t heard anything all day. I figured no news was good news. I guess that’s not the case.
I feel so stupid. I’ve been crying since 10:20 when I got the phone call. He’s still alive, but barely. I can’t lose him. I can’t. I almost posted asking for someone to just come stay the night with me to calm me down. I’m on the edge of an anxiety attack and the only thing keeping me sane is an extra dose of my Klonopin. Even that isn’t strong enough.
I honestly don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before. I’ve never pleaded for someone’s life before. I’ve lost a few people in my lifetime.. Grandparents, acquaintances, and friends. One I lost in the same way I may lose this friend. I think that’s why I’m so afraid. I’ve seen the devastating effects of heroin. Now I’m seeing it again. The worst part is I feel like it’s my fault. Why? Because I knew.
It’s not super logical to think that, I know. But I was one of the few people who knew. I could have gotten him more help, I could have done something.. But I didn’t. I felt helpless. Now, I’m laying here even more helpless as a lifeless body lays in a hospital room on life support because I didn’t act when I had the chance.
I know it’s not my fault. I do. I’m just hoping he makes it out alive.