From my eyes…

I have this fantastic part of my past that I miss dearly all the time. I’ve dreamt about reuniting with the Rubin family several times in the last 4 years since they’ve been out of my life, but last night was the second dream in two weeks.

Last night’s dream was different than other’s though. I know that, in real life, if I were to see my little Boo again he would not remember me. He is autistic, and even if he did remember me, I’m not sure he’d be able to communicate it right away. Last night, he remembered me! I had driven slowly by their house and he was outside playing with his older by ten months sister, Ariel. He recognized my car before she did and ran into the street to follow it. When I realize I’d been spotted, I stopped and got out of the car. I grabbed them both and hugged as tight as I possibly could. In my dream, like in real life, I was very nervous about how they would accept me, but in that moment of being able to hug those two kids I forgot all else. In my dream, we went inside and I apologized to their parents and hugged some more and cried, because I was so happy to know I wasn’t hated and to be able to be with them. I’m crying now just thinking about how wonderful it would be. I spent time talking with Aura, while Ari interrupted when she felt her mom’s updates were insufficient, and the whole time I had my arms wrapped around Andy. It was fantastic.

I just laid in bed for a bit this morning, not wanting to let go of my dream.

If I could live my dream, I would never let go. I would apologize to the Rubin family for letting the break of me and Aaron (the oldest son) ruin my relationship with the rest of them. For letting my first teaching job become an excuse to not visit them. And most of all for leaving their life in what I still feel was just a bad way. I miss them often and think of my little Andy nearly everyday. I don’t think I’ve ever loved a kid more. And there is most certainly not one who has ever changed and touched me in the way he did.

Over the weekend, while cleaning out boxes of old letters and journals and listening to my Ryan Cabrera CD, I was taken back to a point in time that I can look back and smile on now because I know I will never be there again.

I was depressed. Severely depressed. I had no job, school was overwhelming, my friends were annoyed with my bad attitude and lazy habits and I pushed my parents away so they wouldn’t know what was going on with me.
I knew I was in trouble. I knew that my thoughts were overdramatic and I knew I was slipping further everyday. At first I knew what to do but everytime I would muster up the courage to leave my little bedroom only to have the first encounter - no matter what it was, even if it was just a thought I had - ruin my day and force me back to my safe zone - my bed, my journal, tears on my pillow. I would lay for hours and just pray to not have to live anymore. I would think of all the ways I could get away and actually be who I wanted to be- until of course I was so depressed that I had convinced myself that who I had been was pathetic and that what I wanted to be was out of my grasp. I wanted to shake this and several times I tried, but my destructive thoughts made it too much for me to handle. I forgot to think of the options I had. I forgot to think in small steps to accomplish my goals - in fact, I nearly forgot my goals and the ones I didn’t forget were meaningless. I beat myself up more than anyone else in the world could. I was so low and getting worse and soon became sacred to even be alone, because I thought for sure I would give up and cease to exist at all. I thought that my friends and family could get over it and that it actually might have been a relief for them because then they wouldn’t have to deal with the stink that was my life. I was sad. I was scared. Every time I picked up the phone to call a therapist, I would hang up telling myself that they were only going to tell me this or that and it wouldn’t help anyway. After all, I had (nearly had) a sociology degree, that’s the same right? I thought about opening up to my friends, but then made myself believe that it was not their problem and they were stressed enough with their own concerns, too much for them to handle and I was not about to burden the ones I love.

Rebecca, most likely completely disgusted with my life and what I was turning into, and probably a little worried, too, dragged me out repeatedly. Sometimes she wasn’t even too nice about it. She would bust in my room and say something like “Get dressed. We’re leaving in an hour” and leave before I could argue - because don’t think I just willingly went along with this everytime.

Most of the time when I was tagging along with Rebecca and Matt, we would end up out with Matt’s friends. Eventually, I started to date Sam. I was unexplainably happy and so sure that he was “the one”. Even when he irritated me I didn’t stop feeling happy when I thought about him in my life. I went from bottom to top in a very short period of time. Sam and I aren’t together - in fact we haven’t been for years. Regardless, when I think back about my life at that time, I always find a connection between falling in love with Sam and not feeling helpless in life anymore. Somehow, in the time I spent with him, he was able to remind me of who I am, who I’ve always been, and instill in me something that says I am worth it and I can do it. Now, obviously these are things I’ve always known and my best friends and family have always told me, but it wasn’t that he said any of this, it was more how he made me feel and the way he would repsond to things and made me want to be, well, more like him - more confident I guess.  Overall, Sam reminded me with his actions that I deserve the most life has to offer and that I should settle for nothing less in any facet of life and that I was too good to even fathom having the thoughts I’d had in the past.

I learned a lot in that time of my life. I give Rebecca credit for putting me in the situation to meet Sam and I thank her for not taking no for an answer when I whined that I wanted to stay home. I give Sam thanks for teaching me what I am worth and instilling it in me in the strongest sense. I’m pretty sure I’ll never tell him any of this, but when I came across a short letter I’d written him this weekend that said ”thanks for all you’ve done for me you’ll never know how it has changed my life”, I thought I should write it down somewhere. Then, while listening to my Ryan Cabrera CD (I’m sure Sam would be thrilled to know Ryan Cabrera made me think of him. Hahaha) a song came on that said how I feel about that whole time in my life.

Just needed to get that out, for me.

Sick and tired of this world
There’s no more air
Tripping over myself, going nowhere
Waiting, suffocating, no direction
I took a dive and
On the way down
I saw you, and you saved me from myself
And I won’t forget the way you loved me (Sam never actually said this, I’m just going assume, because it makes me feel good, and what’s not to love, right? ;) )
And on the way down
I almost fell right through
But I held on to you
Been wondering why it’s only me
Have you always been inside waiting to breathe
It’s alright, sunlight on my face
I wake up and yet, I’m alive ‘cuz
On the way down
I almost fell right through
But I held on to you
I was so afraid of going under
But now, the weight of the world
Feels like nothing, no nothing