He tells me how he goes to sleep wondering of he's going to wake up or not...which A) hurts like hell to hear and B) it doesn't have to be that way if he wasn't so fucking stubborn and would just go to the fucking hospital. But of course not. Because even now, it's still "fuck how I feel."
But how fucked up is that that you're going to mention that to me, knowing I'm scared to death of that happening?? I reminded him of how I felt trying to go to sleep wondering where he was and if he was even alive on a daily basis...and he tells me he's sorry. Yeah, because all the panic attacks, the crying and emotional breakdowns, the wanting to die and just disappear, all that is forgettable with a simple "I'm sorry", let me tell you. That was the absolute worst thing I've ever felt in my life...even just thinking back on it now makes me cry, FFS. I told him I can forgive him, but I'll never fucking forget that. And it was all due to HIS choices. He chose to wander around all night doing fuck knows what and constantly risking getting himself hurt or killed. It didn't have to be that way. But he chose it both for himself AND, unwillingly, me. So don't fucking talk to me about anxiety because I've felt more than enough of it...almost more than I could even handle.
