[bluerskies]

My ex-boyfriend overdosed on September 11th of last year. I don't come here much, but I am thankful for these forums because they are really the only outlet and connection I have left to him.

I sometimes wonder how I have been able to accept this. I always felt like he was going to die. I was one of those girls who thought she could stop it until I had almost killed myself in the process and had to make a choice between the continuation of my own obsession with saving him or becoming healthy and leaving him. I became healthy...not quite sure if I ever got to 100% though. I seemed to have adopted this attitude that life is tough and you just have to deal with things. I don't leave a lot of room for being soft or opening up anymore. I truly feel like I gave away a huge part of my soul even before he had died, but when he died, it just felt like there just were no happy endings.

At that point in time the happy ending was for him to get better. Without me. I know none of this is my fault. It doesn't take away the guilt though. This disease doesn't just hurt the person who is performing the act of abusing himself, it puts all their loved ones in unbelievably tough moral predicaments. No one is an angel and this disease amplifies this.

At his funeral they kept trying to say that he was just about to get clean for good, that this was some last big night before he gave it up for good. I don't think so. I think he was sick and his sickness had grown beyond his control. I'm haunted by one of the last phone calls he made. He was in the drive through and it was the tone of his voice as he spoke to the lady that was checking him out. He was like a child. It was as if he had destroyed all his self esteem and the act of talking to this stranger made him feel small and worthless. I want to take the boy who was there at that moment and put my arms around him and comfort him - make him feel how much of an amazing person I thought he was.

I guess that is what kills me the most. I don't know if he understood why I walked away. I don't know if he could really understand it. There was more love in that action then he could ever know.

My best friend died the year before him - of lupus.

I've kind of pulled it together. But at the same time I haven't. I don't know how to get my peace back. I feel like I am failing at life. I feel like I am disrespected in my job, like I show some of the same codependent tendencies in my job that I used to show in the relationship. I have a good relationship now, but sometimes I have a hard time really letting my boyfriend in on how I am feeling. I moved back in with my parents around the time my ex and I broke up because I just had no strength left and I can't seem to move out. It's like I'm stuck. I have enough money, but I just feel so unsure about my ability to take care of myself or something. I've gained 25 pounds since all this happened. All in all, I pretty much feel like a big loser. I know I have to make some changes, but don't know how to go about it. I miss my ex. and I miss my best friend.