This time five years ago I wasn't even alive, I was spending every minute of my existence trying to end myself. I had just been released from the hospital after nearly succeeding at overdosing, and was in no way intending to keep on going. Twenty three years old and I had nothing to live for.
It was the beginning of July when the man who is now my husband stumbled into my dark existence. Despite the copious amounts of drugs I was pushing into my tube everyday to not feel anything I remember the first day I met him. He came over to see my roommate and there I was sitting on the futon playing Metallica Guitar Hero, and believe me I didn't look hot or anything, just shorts, t-shirt, and ratty pony tail in my usual fashion. For some reason he immediately started talking to me, and managed to get me to go swimming, which is something I didn't do because of the usual cuts all over my arms and legs and the fact that my anorexia made me very uncomfortable in bathing suits. Little did I know that day would be the first of my long battle back to the living.
Josh and I become friends immediately, but I was still a long way from realizing what was going on. I still wanted to die, spent my days starved, bloodied, and drugged up on whatever death cocktail I could get the pill pushing psych doc to write. It was Fourth of July when things came to a head. Josh had gone to a party only to come home to find out I had locked myself in my room and wouldn't let anyone in. Needless to say he broke into the room to find me laying there needing stitches and looking high as a kite. He called the ambulance and when they wouldn't let him ride along he followed in a bike with no breaks, and he sat with me in the ER never leaving my side even when the urge for nicotine was taking over. That night was the night I realized that maybe there was still a part of me that wanted to live. And when I say live, I mean truly live...free of anorexia, razor blades, tons of pills. I consider that Fourth of July to be my official recovery date, it was the beginning of me actually fighting for my life instead of trying to throw it away.
To say that the days following that night were easy would be a lie, but for some reason Josh believed in me despite only knowing me a couple of weeks. He took over my medications as I slowly got off the death cocktail the doctor had me on, he sat with me while I tried to eat and run tube feeds, and he helped me through those horrible moments when he would find me hiding in a corner clutching whatever sharp object I could get my hands on trying to resist the tingle on my arms that had only ever been cured by spilling my own blood. He would tell me I was beautiful even when I was yelling and trying to push him away like I had a habit of doing, but no matter what venom I spewed towards him he never abandoned me. He was there when I was hospitalized for more surgery and given a grim prognosis, and it was in his arms as he held me in my hospital bed that I realized I loved him. It almost scared me how much I loved him because I had made it a common practice to not allow myself close to anyone because I always lost them, but there was no stopping the connection I had with him. He remains the first and only man I have ever loved.
Josh fell in love with me when I was a mess and stayed with me even when it became apparent that our road would not be easy. He has known from day one that I am sick and will only get sicker, and the fact that he could lose me at a young age, yet he has remained devoted. I don't know what it is but being with him makes me whole, in his arms I can't even imagine going back to my anorexia or picking up a blade. I have spent so many years so afraid, yet with him I know that he will protect me, and fight for me when I don't have the strength to fight for myself. He is not only my husband, but the father of my child, and full time home care nurse. He can hook up IVs and tube feeds without even waking me up, he has carried me to the bathroom when I was too weak to walk, held me while I threw up in a bucket, cleaned up my vomit, and does it all without complaining. I often find myself baffled why he loves me, how he can tell me I am beautiful when I am laying in a hospital bed with my hair all ratty venting stomach contents into a bag.
It isn't news to anyone that we have had our struggles, just like he stuck with me through my anorexia and self harm I stood by him when he slipped into a bottle. We have had so many hard times, but despite the best efforts of some to keep us apart we have survived. They all said that we would never last, our love wasn't strong enough to survive all that it has, but it has only grown stronger. Even now when people are trying to keep us apart we stand with each other because we are soul mates. I use to scoff when I heard people say that, but now that I have experienced it there is only one way to explain it...it is like Josh and I apart our demons find their way in and we are quickly pulled back down into the darkness, but together we are whole and our love balances everything out and gives us strength to face what life throws at us. Together we have the most beautiful little boy who we love more than life.
I made the choice to recover, but if it weren't for the support and love from Josh I never would have made that choice. I believe that God brought us together for a reason...to save each other. Those who have known me for years, and knew me before Josh can tell you how very different I am today. Most of those friends will tell you that five years ago they all waited to hear that I was dead, and now I fight everyday for my life, to be here for my son and my husband. Josh saw life in me when I thought I was already dead, he made me smile when I thought it was impossible, no matter how much I pushed him away he would never leave, and it is his love and devotion that gave me the courage to change, the hope that I could actually live rather than just exist. I am blessed to have a husband who made the choice to stay with me and love me even when I didn't have it in me to love myself.
They say that you can't recover for anyone but yourself, which is true, but you can't leave out the impact of having someone that truly loves and believes in you around while you fight to recover. I honestly can't remember who said this right now, but it is a quote that has reigned true in my life, "Human beings can overcome the most difficult of circumstances if we are not forced to stand alone". Having someone stand next to you even when you try to push them away and remind you that they love you and that no matter what they aren't going to abandon you, it sparks something inside of you that I can't even describe. If I were so worthless and doomed to die then why would he take the time to stand beside me and fight for my life? To Josh I was more than just anorexic or a cutter, he saw me as someone I thought was dead, he saw me as Andrea, just Andrea without adding anything else. It was like I was suddenly not defined by my demons, and slowly but surely my smiles became real, my laughter louder, and the dark cloud that was over me was suddenly broken up to allow the light in. My husband is the unsung hero in my story and continues to inspire me everyday to keep fighting.
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