Dear Deena,
It’s been a while since I last wrote you, a little less than
a month, and yet quite a bit has changed. Some for the better and some for the
worst. I guess I will start with the good as it will take the least amount of
time. So a week out of treatment I decided to apply at a clothing store that a
friend of mine owned. The owner was great with such wit and free spirit that I could
literally play on my phone and computer when the store was empty. That’s all
any girl wants right? But not me. I am a perfectionist. Being able to leave for
an overpriced Starbucks coffee might have been enough to keep some employee’s happy
but for me, not understanding what I was doing due to lack of training which of course I
misinterpreted as a lack of intelligence threw me into complete panic. Without
some sort of medication treatment this job also wasn’t going to work. So with
that I had my physician again put me on medical leave. During that time, I filled
out an application for the CNA training I have been anxiously excited to apply
for. There have been years I was too anxious to even inquire about an
application, but within a day of filling it out I got a call back for an
interview and with that I put on a cute pair of black dress Capri’s and a nice top
to cover the battle wounds I have acquired over the last few years. I got the
job. Deena I got the job. To me though it’s much more than that, it’s a
purpose, it’s people relying on me to not only help them eat, dress and wash
them up, but do what I do best which is to make them smile and know that
someone truly cares. This could be a potential career, a license in my name
stating that I am certified to help those in need. I will be doing something that
very few in this world can do, especially with grace. It reminds me of you
though when you were an EMT. I know how much you wanted to go back and do that.
I remember that was a goal and a topic of conversation that always brought a
smile to your face when nothing else would. But that high I experienced only
lasted so long. My first week home I lost 3lbs mainly due to anxiety. After my
appointment with my new psychiatrist I was put back on my anti -anxiety which
allowed me to be myself and not struggle so much making meals and eating them
which luckily meant I gained the weight back whoot whoot.
Then all the good things began happening and the guilt sunk
back again, old habits picked up and well if I didn’t know any better I began
to self -sabotage. (ex burning, drinking, isolating and restricting, oh and purging) I did try though Deena. I quit Wegmans after having worked
there 5 years. It’s somewhat bittersweet. As my schedule got busier I took on
more and planed more and started having fun. Without you. I tried to ignore the
pain in my stomach by discussing my new job and the plans for my future that
also didn’t include you. Friends and family began spewing all their concerns at
me about how I would handle the intense physical labor, the cliques of the
staff I would work with and the fact that I would basically be doing someone
else’s brunt work, not having any idea that the excitement I had moments before
had dissipated along with my appetite. I know it wasn’t intentional, they
probably had no idea I would take it so personally and truly reconsider my decision.
Still though I partied on with my new roommate and my sister whom I adopted 2
years before when she at one point was just a roommate. I drank, danced, sang,
colored and took walks like everything was normal. But that was just it, it was
normal; It was normal Kim before Deena passed away. I still can’t walk on your
street no matter how inconvenient. I am too tempted to look in the window and
ensure all your things are there where they belong which I know isn't the case so I avoid the block all together.
Thursday I thought it would be a good idea to call Brian
because to me until the case is solved, there’s still a chance of you making an
appearance. He mentioned to me that a letter was brought in stating that
someone in this town was bragging about lacing your cocaine with fentanyl. How
could anyone not only consider but follow through on such a heinous act of
violence? You have always been nothing but kind, even too kind. Fragile,
vulnerable, but with a heart of gold that I still believe lingers in each ray
of sunshine that is holding on as Fall quickly rolls around. The fact of the
matter is I want to stay involved whether it be learning new details of your
unfortunate turn of events, investigating myself or simply just living in
misery. My food intake has gone way down after that conversation because as
much as I want better for me, I like you can’t rest or self care until I know everyone else is
doing okay. You will never be okay. I don’t feel right celebrating my new job,
taking walks with friends or dressing up for dinner never mind actually eating
it. I had a meltdown the other day because no matter where I turn something reminds
me of you and although that’s partially what I want, it only gives me false
hope that you could come back. My doctor gave me a task to help keep me focused
and in a way honor you whichI did by coloring as she asked me to. But as I got closer to finishing I realized
it wasn’t as perfect as I would have wanted it to be, much like the way you and I parted ways and secondly, if I had finished the coloring it would have meant I did something you
loved and you weren’t there with me to revel in it. It would be the end of the picture. The end of the fun, just like there was an end to your life. I don't prefer ends. Anyway it’s time for me to
go eat dinner. I have a long day of training ahead of me. Today was only day 1
out of 4 long ones. My mom asked if I made any friends today, my reply “haha
no, I didn’t talk to anyone” so thanks love for listening. I love you and in
your voice I wish I knew what you were “finking”. Lol xoxo
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