But this post is about the boys. In no particular order: my uncle, my dad, my boss, my therapist, my roomate and my ex-boyfriend.
When I was home this summer, I talked to my uncle about how I had a hard time finding real meaning in life without my religious beliefs. He told me he found meaning in helping his family. If that's the case, I've provided him with enough meaning to get through a long time out from here. He has been my rock in a storm. He's not all that touchy-feely but he gave me a lot of hugs and he's taken really good care of me.
My dad and I have had our ups and downs like any crazy, messed up family would. But we always love each other and find our way back to being us. I think I'm the most like him out of my siblings and even though I think he tried to kill me this past summer by taking me on a huge hike through woods and lakes and sand dunes on the hottest day of the year without any water - it's still one of my favorite days I had this past year.
My boss/mentor/friend has believed in me so many times this past year when I didn't believe in myself. It's been almost a year since the incident with my sister's wedding. I haven't been on my game. I started a new job and to be honest, I haven't been great at it. Which is strange for me, I'm used to being good at things.
I wish y'all had known me as a JW (I also wish you didn't, because I probably would have annoyingly tried to convert you) but I was on top of things. I was the perfect little elders wife in a Vietnamese congregation. I was too young to be married and too young to take care of so many other people. I burnt out. And then my sister kicked me out of her wedding. And then Donia died. My boss sees past the circumstances and thinks I'm smart and I have potential. Every time he tells me that, I believe it a little more.
My therapist is not conventional. That's why I like him. He probably knows me better than anyone else. He'll do our sessions by phone if I can't leave the house. The second time I became suicidal, he just gave me a hug and said he'd miss me and let me go home. He didn't call anyone (which I know is not what he's supposed to do). It made me feel like he trusted me to make the right choice this time and I was in charge of my own life. He's offered to take me to the hospital after I tried to check myself in and they didn't think I seemed "sad enough" to get help. He's treated me for free when I ran out of money even though he charges $200 an hour. He cut his rates in half this year when I went back.
My roomate and my ex-boyfriend: spoiler alert - they hate each other. They put up with each other though, because they both love me. Both of them have been there to pick me up at the hospital after all of the surgeries I've had this past year. They both make sure I eat, hold my hand when I'm sad, sent me care packages when I was out east in the summer. They walk my dog.
It's true that men sometimes have a harder time getting in touch with and dealing with feelings. My struggle with depression and anxiety hasn't been easy. I've been diagnosed with PTSD and Religious Trauma Syndrome. These guys have all stepped out of their comfort zones to try to understand and be supportive.
Everyone knows I'm terrible at dating. Guys like me but they never stick around. I'm not sure I really need a life partner though. It's nice to be with someone. Maybe though, I'm too complicated to rely on just one guy. With the crew I have behind me now, I've managed to weather the worst of storms. I feel strong and motivated and happy. And I have a dog. :)
So I want to say thank you to all the awesome men in my life. And to their women who share them with me. I have Max for the next 10-12 years and he couldn't leave me if he wanted to. :)
Happy Holidays from us.
Sullivan out.
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