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Troubles…Continued

So let’s continue the story where we left off…

Nicole, her mother, and I were finally settled in our apartment with decent jobs. Everyone seemed to be happy, including me. But, deep down inside, I was nowhere near happy. I wouldn’t let it show though. Everyone else was happy so I was trying to force myself to be happy too. In all honesty, I had never in my life been so depressed. November passed…December came and went. Now, it was January 2016. My life just seemed to be getting worse. But I still wasn’t letting on to anyone that I was actually very, very unhappy and still very depressed.

To backtrack a little bit, I didn’t have a key to our apartment. The reason for that was because I was the last to put my application in for the apartment and I never found out if I was approved or not. So, the first weekend in January, Nicole and I made our way to the leasing office to pick up my key. When we got into the office, they looked up all my information. Turns out my application was never approved so I wasn’t going to get my key. Now that the leasing office knew I was in the apartment without having approval to live there, I could only stay there for 14 days at a time with a 2 day break in between. That was sort of out of the question for me because there was nowhere for me to go in Georgia. Luckily, I was out of town every other weekend anyway. So I guess that kind of worked itself out.

During the third week of January was when my life took a spin. I randomly started bleeding. I thought it was my period at first because I was just spotting here and there. Then the flow started to become heavier…and heavier…and heavier. It became so heavy that I was bleeding through a tampon and 2 pads every 30 minutes or so. And, did I mention how painful it was? It was seriously the worst pain ever. But, since I had no insurance and I didn’t want any hospital bills, I just decided to wait it out and see if the bleeding and pain would go away. That whole week, I lost a lot of blood. And I noticed that there were gigantic, clot-looking clumps of blood coming out of my body. I finally said something to Nicole about it and she told her mom. Her mom came to me and told me that I was having a miscarriage and that I should probably go to the hospital. I didn’t want to go to the hospital. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. (In the end of October, my boyfriend at the time and I had taken a pregnancy test because we knew it was a possibility that I could be pregnant but both tests we took came out negative.) This was definitely a shock to me. After looking back on a few things, the signs of pregnancy were definitely there. But, since both of the pregnancy tests I took were negative, the thought never entered my mind that I could be pregnant. But I was. During the whole time I was pregnant, I was stressed and drinking. These were the key causes of my miscarriage. Having a miscarriage hit me hard. Really hard. It really hurt me. Thinking about that beautiful little angel that I could have had…My baby was gone and I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I felt terrible. I was more stressed and depressed now than I was before. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, my troubles continued…

I’ll pick up the story from here in my next blog.

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Troubles…

So, I told you guys that so much has happened within the past year or so that I would have to catch you guys up. Well, this is the beginning.

I guess you could say my life started a downward spiral during the summer of 2014. That’s the summer I became friends with Nicole. When I first became acquainted with her, we were enemies. But, once we settled our differences, we actually ended up being best friends. We literally did everything together. I would spend weekends at her house and she would spend weekends at my house. And, eventually, at the beginning of summer 2015, I ended up moving in with her, her mom, her grandmother, and her two little sisters. And I am not going to lie; I felt like the big sister and friend that no one ever had.

After moving in with Nicole, everything seemed to be fine…or so I thought. At the time, I didn’t know that I was actually hurting myself and not helping myself. But, I didn’t want to leave my best friend and the life of freedom that I had while living with her and her family. So I stayed, which was probably the worse possible thing that I could do for myself at that time. But, back then, I didn’t realize it. Anyway, I went on with my new life, carelessly. My days were filled with working, smoking, and drinking. I seemed to be always high, and sometimes tipsy or drunk on the weekends. Soon enough, all I was doing was smoking and drinking. I ended up not having a job which made me depressed and the more depressed I got, the more I drank and got high. But, it was okay, you know…because I still had Nicole as my best friend and we were both in the same boat.

Later on in the summer, Nicole and I ended up getting jobs which made life a little bit easier…we had more money to do the things we wanted to do. For me, I had more money for weed and alcohol and to keep gas in my car. But even though I was sort of solving my money issues, I was still very depressed. Then one day, a plan was devised to leave. We were all going to leave our lives there, pack up, and move to Georgia. Seemed like a great idea, so that’s what we did. In October 2015, Nicole and I moved to Georgia and in November her mother came along with us. We all landed great jobs and had a very nice apartment. Things seemed to be looking up for all of us. We seemed to be happy, all of us. But deep down inside, I was still depressed. I couldn’t let it show though. I was determined to make myself happy.

I know my story is starting to get juicy but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave it here. Don’t worry though, part II is coming. This is just the beginning of troubles…