Feeling: Pummelled
Listening to: Coldplay - Daylight
Reading/Watching: Georgette Heyer, False Colours

Too fricking tired to re-type the story. All this stupid d�ja vu, after that time freshman year with Bri. Here is the e-mail I sent the Dorks.

My girls.

I pledged that I would go to bed early last night. I would watch Everwood, do my form & analysis homework, practice piano for about an hour, and go to bed at 11.

Bri called at 8:30 asking if we could meet at Denny's, so we met about an hour later and shared a sampler over hot tea, giggling with R.J. the fun gay waiter, and he teased me a bit about practically living there now that I was dating Harry, to which of course I replied that I'd been living there long before Harry happened, and it was fun. Got home a bit after 11, thinking I'd get up early and practice piano in the morning.

11:30, "Tania" called (this is a previously mentioned friend, but I am changing her name to give her some privacy). She was crying. I invited her to my room and she put her head in my lap and started just rambling, sobbing. Things were very, very wrong. As in, taking five antidepressants today when the dosage is once daily. And seven yesterday. And three the day before that.

She used my phone to call some guy (let's call him "Bob") and suddenly she was blurting out to him that she was madly in love with him and asking if he felt the same and if he'd be willing to have sex with her. The poor guy stammered that he wasn't sure what to say and she hung up on him and got frantic. She called him back, and was apologizing. He asked to speak to me, so I picked up and told him I was looking after her, gave him my extension, and promised I'd stay with her all night until I was sure she'd be okay. Calmed her down, convinced her to stay with me and get some rest.

We turned off the light and were trying to sleep when she suddenly said she needed to get her favorite doll. I asked if she wanted me to go with her, she said no, she'd be right back.

Ten minutes later, she's not back. One of my next door neighbors has slipped a note under my door that says "I don't know you very well, but I know you're hurting, etc, and just remember God loves you, yadda yadda." Very sweet. It made me want to go knock on her door and explain that I wasn't the nutcase.

Tania's also not answering her phone, and I go down and knock on her door loud enough to wake the two people on either side of her, but she doesn't answer. I go back to my room, a cold feeling in my stomach, and Bob calls five minutes later, saying "She's in my room. You probably want to come over here."

Tania was sitting on his bed, puffy eyed and scarily smiling, saying, "I was very clever." And apparently she gulped down some 409 while he was in the shower. He didn't know what to do, so he called me. That's when I got kind of angry, and I feel bad for being so mean, but she was so flippant. So uncaring, with her thin toothy grin. Rambling, saying she loved Bob and she thought this would be a perfect ending, pointing proudly to a suicide note she'd scribbled.

I dragged her to the bathroom (she weighs like 90 pounds, and I had to turn drill sergeant, saying, "Do you really want to test who's stronger?") and tried to make her throw up, but she wouldn't. I called 911 and the ambulance and police came wanting every detail, and I rode with her to the hospital, holding myself very straight, and people kept asking me questions. I hated it. What do they need my social security number for?

We got there right before 3 a.m. They wouldn't let me go in with her, because I'm not family, so I sat in the waiting room, and that's when I started crying, feeling wilted and bruised. Waiting rooms are nothing like on E.R. Very quiet. Not a Noah Wyle in sight.

At 5 a.m. they let me go see Tania, and she was quieter. Apologizing. Saying she should have gone for the bleach instead, which scares me. They're keeping her for psychoanalysis overnight. She went to sleep, and at 5:30 I needed to get out of there. Poor Drew- I woke him up, and as soon as I heard him groggily say, "Hello?" I burst into tears again.

He got there just before 6. I was curled up in my chair, poised to spring, and my head snapped around like a bullet every time someone came in the door. He came up to me, his hair all cowlick-y, in t-shirt and sweatpants and I just... broke. It is easy to be rigid and strong when you're the only one that can. When someone else takes the weight, down I go. Poor boy, he didn't even see it coming.

I kept apologizing for waking him up, and he was so sweet to me the whole drive home. We got back and the ROTC was already up doing drills and it seemed so insane. I hugged him just before we went into our separate wings of the dorm, and had the strongest urge to hang on and let him hold me up for a while. It would have been so easy. He is just the sweetest. So I made myself let go, and went to my room.

Called Harry, left him a half-delirious message saying, "Hey, my friend tried to kill herself, I just got back from the hospital and I wanted to hear your voice." Fell asleep around 6:30. He called me at ten, as soon as he woke up, and when I came back from my 9:45 class (I decided to skip music theory and choir, left the director a note), I called him back and he said all the right things. Just his voice made it right. I wasn't planning on seeing him before mid-semester break, but I need to be held for a while, so I'm going over to him tonight once he's off from work.

The counseling center keeps calling me, and I have to have an appointment with them so they can make sure I'm not about to crack. I'm really fine. Tired. Worn. But I just need a break, and I'm going to have one.

I'm driving home tomorrow afternoon. I'll sleep for years once I get there.

So sorry it's long... it's been a long night.

Love you ladies. ::hug::

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