Unfortunate effects...

If you by chance read my last post you would know that Erica, my now ex-girlfriend, did some hurtful things. I would say that I am almost over her now, but right after the break up was no fun at all.
The break up was on a Monday.

Tuesday:
Jack was absolutely no help what so ever. At this point he had me convinced the break up was my fault. His constant scrutiny caused me to literally be sick of myself. I took a look at myself in the mirror and immediately started gagging. I couldn't take it anymore, I was too disgusted, I threw up. Seeing the stomach acid going down the sink made me wonder how I was going to be able to cope with my failure. Then all I could do was miss and think of Erica.

The only way I could bare to see her at school without breaking down in tears was to find a way to make me not think about her. So I went to my medicine cabinet and pulled some old vicodin out of the back of the cabinet. It was that knock-off stuff they give you for getting teeth pulled.

On my way out the door I took the small pile of pills out of my pocket and swallowed them all. By the time I arrived at school I couldn't feel anything. My body was numb, as well as my mind, and that is what I needed. I was able to spend that morning surrounded by three of my great friends (Dustin, Isaiah, and Sarah) so I was able to avoid the sorrow of an awkward confrontation.
At lunch everything was going okay. I was sitting at a different table than Erica but still in the same general location. About half way through lunch, the guy she went to prom with showed up. "Coincidentally" him and his girlfriend broke up that day. He got more affection and happiness out of Erica in that 20 minutes than I did in a month and a half... I left the table and spent the rest of that lunch in a class room full of noisy students to attempt to drown out Jack and his relentless "You are a failure" speeches.
When I got home that day I was still feeling extremely depressed so I took some more vicodin and popped a palm full of Motrin. All this did was deepen my depression and I found comfort in my old friend, the razor blade. I went into the bathroom and just started doing little nicks and cuts on my legs but the Jack started to speak and tell me all of the horrible things that happened and started telling me reasons why. He had never been wrong so far so it just made me even more depressed. I put around 20 cuts on my left bicep and carved in the word failure. I got in the shower and just watched as the blood ran down my arm and felt the wounds sting under the river of steaming hot water, hoping that my emotional pain would drain away with it. It didn't...

Wednesday:

Yet another horrible day of the same situations, palming any pills I had in the cabinet, Throwing up at the sight of my reflection, and Erica's new guy, Joey, showing up at the table. I went home feeling just as worthless as before and yet again, found condolence in my razor. I put 30 more cuts in the same location as the previous day but this time I went deeper.

Thursday:

Again, same situation as Tuesday and Wednesday... But that night was different. I had found out that Erica was cheating on me behind my back with Joey and now they are planning a little "movie night" to get together, just them two... I had also found out that Jack was yet again, correct in his statements. Erica had been leading me to believe she cared for a month and a half when in reality she didn't care at all. I started texting Sarah trying to vent my anger about the situation. I basically said that I don't care about either of them (Erica or Joey) and both of them are dead to me because of their actions. It would be difficult not to kill one of them and write a note to the other in their blood. Erica found out I was angry about the situation and she started pointing fingers at me saying that I was the prick. All I had ever done was show her that I cared and tried to work out any obstacles in the relationship and she started calling me the insane, evil, crazy, psychotic one and telling her parents that I needed severe mental help, even though I already am. I was so angry I had no idea what to do other than to carve up my body to the point of dangerous blood loss. I had the razor in my hand, ready for anything but to my surprise, I was too angry to cut myself...So I just sat there... doing nothing. I couldn't do anything...


Today, about 2 weeks after the whole ordeal, I am mostly over Erica. I figured if she is going to do something so heartless to me she wouldn't be worth my pain. I think about her less and less everyday but when I do, Jack still pipes up with "You fucked up..." even though I know I was just a puppet in a story that wasn't meant to have a happy ending.

That was the only thing I ever put my whole heart into and trusted the other party to care...And she just trampled all over it and ripped it to shreds. You can bet I won't be making that mistake again...