“Wow! Two blogs in one day?!” I know that’s what you’re thinking but I’m really trying to get finished with this depressing part of my life so here we go.
On February 3, 2016, I woke up late and watched TV while Nicole got ready for work. I would usually be getting ready myself but I wasn’t because it was moving day for me. So, Nicole left the house, her mom left, and my parents where quickly approaching. I got up, took a shower, got dressed and packed. By the time my parents got there I was ready to go. As soon as they walked through the door, I felt a sense of relief and shock simultaneously. I was going home.
My mom and dad got my stuff loaded up in less than 15 minutes. I was just in a daze. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was weak from not eating, I was nervous because I hadn’t told Nicole or her mom that I was leaving because I didn’t know how to tell them. I knew it would hurt Nicole and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. After all, she was my best friend. But, at the point I was at, I could do nothing but leave and hope that she would one day understand.
When I left, I told my dad to take me to my job so that I could see my boss and coworkers before my great flight. When we got there, I felt so peaceful, confused still, but peaceful. I said my goodbyes, we all prayed, and we left. I was on my way to Mississippi.
Upon my arrival, of course my dad laid down the house rules (all the ones I tried to get away from the year before) but I didn’t care about the rules. I was happy to comply as long as I had peace of mind. It took me about a month to come of out my depression. But my parents were great to me. They still don’t know 100% what I went through, but they helped me out greatly. My stress seemed to disappear instantly. I was on the road to recovery.