Let's see, there was GuitarGuy #1 whose really only ambition in life was to eat, sleep and play guitar. Then there was GuitarGuy #2 whose really only ambition in life was to eat, sleep and play guitar. (You'd think I'd learn, right?) There was CanadaGuy who affectionately dumped me via email. (But hey, atleast he wasn't another GuitarGuy! Progress!) Then there was PianoGuy, a slight variation from GuitarGuys #1 and #2, for old time's sake. Throw in GunGuy - a guy I met in my concealed weapons class who informed me, on our first date, that he had 3 different kids with 3 different women and wanted to have more. (We never spoke again). And then I gave up looking.
It was somewhere between GuitarGuy #2 and CanadaGuy that I slipped in to a very deep depression. I was actually engaged to GuitarGuy for about 7 months. We broke up a few months before the wedding day. This was one of the most painful and humiliating experiences of my life. I had already bought the wedding dress. We had already booked the honeymoon. The invitations were printed and sitting on my counter. I had all of these reminders around me, not to mention the fact that the guy I had spent almost every waking moment with over the past year was gone and I felt very, very alone. This experience triggered a chemical imbalance in my brain that I struggled to keep under control for almost a year. I eventually lost that battle and one evening in November of 2001, I swallowed 28 sleeping pills and passed out in my apartment on the floor.
The next few days are foggy in my memory. I drifted in and out of consciousness in the hospital bed. The doctors opted not to pump my stomach because of the damage that it can do to a patient's vocal chords. Instead they had me drink a charcoal-type liquid that helped me pass the medication through my system, but the side effect was that I stayed pretty drugged for a few days. I remember friends coming to visit and the psychologist trying to interview me while I was still under the influence of the sedatives (totally not fair - of course I sounded crazy!) I remember waking up honestly thinking that I had sat on the sharp end of a pencil (that would be the catheter that I was feeling...good times). In the end, I was ok and I was able to leave the hospital after a few days, with scheduled counseling sessions and prescription "happy pills", of course.
It was this experience that really changed me and - oddly - brought about a lot of good things in my life. For one, going through something like this shows you who your true friends are. My roommate at the time (and the one who called 911 and saved my life), stuck with me through those hard times. She never made me feel like I was a burden. And to this day, almost 10 years later, she is still one of my closest friends in the world. The youth pastor's wife at the church I attended at the time never left my side while I was in the hospital, and she had two young kids of her own. True friendship. This also brought about a reconciliation and a much closer relationship with my Dad, something that brought tremendous healing and restored confidence to my heart and mind. Now - don't get me wrong - I do NOT recommend anyone trying this at home! There was another end to this story that could have easily been told.
So I was blessed to be given another chance, and after two or three more "frogs", I finally fell in love with my best friend, my prince! And after almost 6 years of marriage, I can honestly say that we are more in love than we have ever been.
True story.
And to think, I could've missed out on these guys...
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