Nope

Last night of the year. Thank God.

What a week.

M2 is in rehab.

A week ago on Saturday, it was the anniversary of the rape (is that how you say it? Sounds ridiculously festive). I noticed some sadness and that mildly surprised me.

Perhaps I had walled it off too quickly after all. 

Anyway, that was alright.

The next day, Sunday evening/night M2 and I got in a heated app-gument and before I knew it, he wrote me a loving goodbye note (in whatsapp) and said he was going to kill himself. Then, nothing.

No response to my apps, phone calls, nothing. 

After my last message I started screaming.

I was sitting up in bed. 

Didn't even know where he was, only approximately, in what city the clinic is based. 

Googled, found several places. Called one. 

"No, he isn't here." 

(He didn't provide me with much information when he left because he was so completely out of it.)

Freaked the f*ck out, sent his mother a message - at midnight, telling her that her son was killing himself and where to send help, did she have information... She didn't answer right away so then I called the Dutch version of 911, talked to an officer who promised me he was going to find out for me and would call me back after.

Then his mother called me, trembling voice, naturally, and I nearly choked on my tears, still panicking.

Then the officer's call came in and I took it. He *was* at the place I had called, and he was talking to someone now, calming down. 

I shook so hard. Was cold to the bone. 

The officer told me to have a drink to the positive outcome, he was very friendly, a kind man, and I said "I think I will" even though drinking doesn't do much for me. 

Immediately sent M2's mother an app and we agreed to both drink on it. I apologized (because damn), but she was cool about it and later sent messages to her son (as he told me when he was answering again). 

Jesus f*cking Christ. 

He had tried to strangle himself with his phone wire and when he saw my last message "your life is so valuable, you have no idea" it shocked him to his senses (or so I understood from what he told me afterwards) and ran off to find someone - he was sitting right next to the man who told me M2 wasn't there, at the moment the man took my call.

I think I peed about seven times that night, couldn't stop shivering well into the next day. 

Then Christmas day. He started to say the same things. "I am a zero, a loser, life isn't worth it anymore." Then disappeared again.

Right. It was day, not night, and I figured they would keep an eye on him, so I decided not to call (can you imagine making that decision with the possible consequences?). But again, he stopped answering my increasingly panicked messages. No response.

For three hours. Three. 

I had so much trouble breathing. Was shaking again, crying like a banshee. 

That was Christmas for me. He was "okay" that time. I definitely wasn't. During the days after Sunday panic would overtake me, shortness of breath, all that. Reminded me of PTSD. 

Last night he told me he felt nothing anymore, no emotions. 

I was going to get a call.

I would get his cats.

Would I like to help him and put a bullet in his head?

The only image he saw was that of a train. There's train tracks close to the clinic. The only thing he could think about was going there and ending it.

I haven't slept without pills this week. Hardly five hours on average. 

It's the first time in his life that he's dealing with memories without drugs. He's remembering things. 

That Sunday has wrecked something in me. 

Tuesday was a nightmare as well, but more of a "part II" experience. Last night was horrific because he said that today he'd quit the clinic and give up and all that stuff about death et cetera.

I need some sleep.

Now I am alone on New Year's Eve, and writing this. 

Don't know a better way to spend the last hours of this motherf*cking month. 

After midnight I'm going to his house to spend the night there with his cats (they can't go outside because of the fireworks), to be with them as all hell breaks loose. It sounds like a goddamn warzone out there and it's not even midnight yet.

Tomorrow I 'm taking it easy and I'll make an effort to focus on my own stuff again. Things have shaken loose. There is still so much tension in this body and mind. A week on adrenaline, heart in overdrive. 

So much adrenaline and shock that I drank a whole glass of wine that night and didn't feel a thing. 

I'd be halfway drunk on a regular day.

I stopped smoking this year.

Started going to the gym.

Intensified the reprogramming.

Stopped eating dairy, grains, processed food and refined sugar and all that crap. Don't even miss it.

Having a hard time with the cooking but I'll get there. 

My heart is still beating fast and loud. Well at least it's beating.