19. Guilt, Blame, and Grieving.

I did not attend Jared's funeral, I honestly felt like I was not allowed to. I could only imagine the uproar I would have caused when his family saw me there, I could just imagine them freaking out and kicking me out. Or even being so angry with me that they'd try something completely irrational. I could just feel the hatred and blame as if it were showering down on me.

But I longed to be there, I felt like I needed to see him at least one last time. This was the guy who I gave everything to, who I was real and vulnerable with, who took everything from me...and now he was lying in a casket. Not only that, but I could not even see him one final time for closure sake. As weird as it sounds, I felt like I just kept envisioning myself curling up in the casket with him, that's how desperately I wanted him to hold me one last time. I felt so messed up; after everything he had put me through, I still ached for him. As cheesy as it sounds, it felt like a huge chunk of me had died with him.

Everyone else was allowed to attend the funeral, all of his so-called friends who never actually gave a crap about him. People who claimed that they were "so close" to him, his family who never seemed to want to show they cared before he died. Yet I was not allowed to be there; I felt like I was literally the only person who actually knew him, who actually cared for him, who actually loved him. It hurt so bad, I'm not sure how to even explain it. The whole situation was messed up. Right after the funeral all of the people who supposedly cared so much, went right back on their merry way, his friends all went out to a party. Sure seemed like they all cared SO much...NOT...it was total bullshit. I guess it just hurt so bad that I could not be there with him, when the reality seemed like I was the only one who loved him, yet I was the only one shunned from being allowed the closure.

Anywhere I went I felt so judged by everyone around. Whether it was just my imagination, or reality I still don't know; but it felt like there were sheering glares of blame sent my way from people all around. I felt so out of place and alone; everything I did, everyone I saw, everywhere I went was just a painful reminder of the wounds that encompassed my heart. Like I mentioned, I'm not sure how much I was actually blamed, and how much was just me projecting my own feelings on myself- But I honestly felt like I could not even walk out my own front door without being judged and looked down on. It felt like pain and horrid memories were searing all around, and there was no escaping it.

Even though I made a promise that I would not take my own life, the desire to do so was nearly constant. I felt taken over, almost possessed at times with how consuming the thoughts were. I felt so dark, so full of pain, so far gone on the inside- It was a very scary place to be. I was not in a healthy spot whatsoever, but I also had no clue how to pull myself out of it, and help seemed nonexistent. 

There were a couple times I would go to Jared's grave site, taking him flowers and sitting there grieving at the loss. I would always be nervous making sure that no one else was around, I didn't dare let his family see me there. I would lay in the grass next to his grave and cry, saying out loud that I was so sorry, and that I still loved him. It was my way of trying to process the grief I felt inside.

...There in that grave laid the man who shattered everything I was, yet was also the man who still had every piece of my broken heart. Emotionally I felt completely intertwined with him.

18. Good-Bye's without Closure: Part 2

The rest of that semester seemed like one giant blur; emotionally and mentally I was long gone.

I felt so numb to the outside world, physically I went to my classes but I felt like a complete zombie. I had absolutely no desire to associate with others, learn, or be apart of society whatsoever. I just tried my best to make it through the rest of the semester, because I was so ready to be done with the setting. 

I failed to mention in the last post (Part 1) that just a few short days before Jared committed suicide, I had a huge trauma response when I finally started coming out of denial about just how messed up my sex life was with him. I was sitting in my Criminal Justice class listening to the lesson, my teacher was a highly-ranked guy well-known with the police force, and had been apart of that work force for many years. The topic of the lesson that day happened to be on Rape and Sexual Abuse, and just what that consisted of. Obviously I had heard of Rape lots of times before, and I thought I was pretty well-acquainted with what it meant; but I didn't realize until that class just how far in denial I still was about things between Jared and I. I don't remember the specific definition he gave, but after the teacher started explaining just what rape consisted of and what fell into the category of rape, my heart sunk. I kept asking myself, "Kelsie, why are you freaking out about this? This didn't happen to you!" But as much as I tried to talk myself out of those thoughts, or find reasons for why or how that couldn't be the case..all of the feelings proving otherwise were still swarming full-force within me. Eventually it got to the point where eventually I couldn't discredit them any longer, and I realized I had to face reality.

All of a sudden I was angry, sad, frightened, and emotional. It was at that moment when it hit me..."Was what Jared did to me Rape?" I always knew our sex life was messed up, I felt used, manipulated, hurt, scared, etc. But yet...since that was all I had ever known, I mistakenly thought that must be normal. For the first time it sunk in; I was used, abused, and what I now knew to be considered raped. I felt so disgusting and angry, I wanted so badly to scream at Jared; "How the Hell could you do this to me???!" "Who in their right mind would do this to a person??" 

For the next few days following I had so many emotions circulating through me, I was experiencing a lot of trauma and emotion and wasn't sure what to do with it. Then a few short days after that realization is when I received the news that Jared committed suicide. (I had no contact with Jared between the time frame of the two events) So adding on top of the fact that this man that I was so close to, the one person that I felt like I really let into my life, into my soul, was now dead- I was also dealing with a million emotions already in regards to the realization of what he had put me through sexually/emotionally. The combination of those two huge things sent me spiraling. 

I felt like I had no support, no one to turn to,  no one who understood what I was going through. I felt so alone, so rejected, and so forgotten. Nobody wanted to address what was going on with me, they just didn't want to deal with the pain and sorrow, they couldn't stand the discomfort. 

About a week after Jared's suicide, as I was making my way to class I got stopped by an old classmate (the same guy who called to inform me that Jared had killed himself) At first he asked how I was doing, I didn't have much of a response other than that I was hanging in there. First I was relieved that somebody was actually checking in on me, someone actually cared a little about what I was dealing with. Then his next response proved otherwise. He said, "You're not still upset about what happened, are you??" Basically telling me that I needed to forget about it and move on, that Jared was an ass, and I should not care that he killed himself. I was completely baffled, I had no words to say, I simply walked away. Here I was dealing with so much pain, shock and emotion from everything that had enfolded the past week, and the very person that broke the news to me, was now telling me I was a complete idiot for feeling anything. The pain and shock was immense, the toll it took on my mind and body were simply indescribable. 

I wanted so badly to run, to escape from what I was feeling. But at the same time, I felt like I was completely numb anyways. I'm still not even sure how to explain it, other than my mind and heart literally felt completely frozen in time. And that's the state it would continue to stay in for at least the next couple years to come.

The one good thing that did come from these events, is I made a pact with myself and with a friend that I would never take my own life. To be completely honest, I wanted to go the route of suicide very much, so much that it was completely all-encompassing. But for the sake of my friend's sanity, I made the promise. After seeing/feeling the immense pain that the suicide of a loved one had on me, I could not bear to put someone else through that same torture with my own actions. I made the decision right then and there that I would trudge on, and press forward through the pain. Even though I had no idea how to, I knew I could not give up. As badly as I wanted to escape, I could not fathom inflicting this same pain on someone I cared so dearly for. I could not bear inflicting this pain on my family, or friends. So with that; the long, painful journey of holding on by a thread began.