It’s my time, baby, and I’ve gotta go now
Losing people along the way
Self-destruction only pushes people away.
This is not a movie, people do not run towards bombs in an attempt to defuse them right before they go off.
Those who love you do not want to see you spiral, and those you love will not be there to watch you fall, it hurts them too much. They should not have been there, I shouldn’t have put them through that.
Some tried to reach out, to pull me back, but I was too far gone to listen. Their concern felt like judgment, their advice like an attack. I had convinced myself they didn’t understand me, they didn’t care, or they were manipulating me, and that they were the ones changing. I became cold, judgemental, and lonely.
When I left I saw a noticeable shift in people who I’d speak to from Cambridge. Some old friends who I hadn’t spoken to in years became close again and helped me with a lot of what was on my mind. I found refuge in talking to people about life. But the distance I had created with those closest to me during recent months wasn’t such an easy to bridge. The damage had been done, and I couldn’t expect to step back into their lives as if nothing had happened. Some relationships had frayed beyond repair, they were likely gone forever.
I had done a lot of damage to myself, but I’d done damage to those close to me as well. I’d maimed relationships and friendships in my own selfish and reckless pursuit of numb.
Yet reconnecting with old friends from a couple years or so ago, especially those from Cambridge, felt like a lifeline. These were people who knew me before everything had gone so awfully wrong, who remembered the version of myself I was trying to find again.
Talking to them was like re-discovering parts of myself that I had buried under layers of denial, apathy, and escapism. They didn’t judge me for where I had been, but they also didn’t let me wallow in it. Their honesty was refreshing, their support invaluable.
