Four years ago, I stopped talking to my entire social world for a 2 1/2 years and basically fell off the map of anyone that knew me.
As in, the school semester ended, I broke up with my girlfriend, left my job, and my friends (sans best friend) and family had no clue happened to me.
As in my parents* thought I was dead, which I feel horrible about, but can’t do anything to undo.
(*my family is really….not healthy, I could actually make “why I did this” make more sense…Honestly, I’ve had therapists tell me to stay away from them and refer to them as my “biological family”. This isn’t the point of the story, though, but it is probably relevant to mention that our relationship exists now, and boundaries are a thing that exists, which helps.)
At the time, I was addicted to klonopin and drinking heavily but my reaction to alcohol was getting extremely unpredictable…some nights I could outdrink most people, sometimes I’d have three drinks and be in a complete blackout. (“The Rape Joke” is from this part of my life.)
When I moved, I quit pills and klonopin, and switched to just marijuana, and kept mainly to myself, my best friend, and a couple other people. Things were really good for a while.
I was subletting from my friend, and the landlord found out, and basically the choice was me getting evicted or everyone, so I left. I didn’t really have preparation for being in this situation, so I ended up in a homeless shelter for a while.
I met other people, found places to sleep, had a guy friend that let me sleep in his car with him for a good long time, I pretty much got by for a while. Oh man…I am really drawing a blank on what happened before I went to rehab, but I started using meth around this time. Not super often, I was still mostly smoking weed, I think, with some other drugs..think I started really playing around with cheap highs for a while, found out it was super easy to get free drugs, and was somewhere between passively and actively suicidal for a while.
This is when I started to get involved with super messed up people, and started to really get into dealing, etc., just to get by basically. I’m a pretty easy-going and unintimidating person, but I have a life-long tendency to befriend people that uh, are skilled in areas that I suck at, so I had “weight” behind me.
I really, really, don’t remember what was going on right before I went to rehab, besides that immediately beforehand, I was pretty aggressively raped.
I was in with pretty bad people, like legitimately things were so bad that the fact that I’m like, alive and not being forcibly prostituted at the moment is completely based on me mentioning who I was hanging out with off-hand to a friend. The guy I was talking to had been on the street for a while, and the person I was around an older guy and women tend to get involved with him and just suddenly disappear…
So, in light of this whole situation, I ended up detoxing in the psych ward post-rape and my psychiatrist offered residential rehab as an option, which I did for four months, I moved into a transitional women’s shelter and was good for six months, until I thought that dating was a good idea.
Haha, the original point of this thing was “I removed myself from my family’s crazy, and found other insane people to fill the void without realizing that was what I was doing” but I got massively side-tracked here and don’t have the heart to delete this and start over.
Additional point: I think this is the first chance I’ve had to psychologically “breathe” in about seven years, aka I’m just beginning to process a bunch of things that happened to me.